#there are some things you realise about yourself and you look at it and just sigh in disappointment | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mustyrosewater · 22 hours ago

Text

𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐒𝐊𝐘 - 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖗𝖊𝖊

𝐫𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐭 𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐭 𝐱 𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐛!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6,068

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: returning to the small wyoming town you were raised after a sharp fall from grace, your music career having turned into mindless pop you were forced to churn out by your manager and now ex, a return to home is just what you need, the perfect place to take a break from the life of a pop star, and also to meet some old faces.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: rhett is jealous again, tense eye contact, niki being a walking green flag, swearing and slight arguing.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: the niki fangirls are gonna love this one, the niki haters maybe not so much, sorry not sorry. the reposts and comments are so greatly appreciated my loves, your feedback means the world and keeps me motivated! please enjoy chapter three!

Aside from the slight talking to from your father when he had come home about an hour later, with a soft reminder to just let him know next time, the night trailed off to be particularly uneventful after the video call with Amanda had ended.

The next morning, you’d hopped into the shower first thing, suddenly feeling all the more grateful for the list of shower supplies you had no doubt Amanda had gone to the trouble of ordering and sending out to you, as they’d been waiting for you ready to go in the shower caddy on the first day.

Soaps that smelled like honey and facial exfloiator had seemed to be exactly what was needed to make you feel recharged and invigorated, washing away the sour emotions of last night.

Reminding yourself of the meditation tracks your therapist had sent to your phone as you stepped back out of the shower, you took the extra time to blow dry your wet hair, putting it up into a claw clip before changing into a comfortable set of grey lounge wear.

Today was a day that was whole heartedly for you, you knew your father was out today, so the entire house was solely your own for a few sweet hours.

Having initially began the day with a coffee and a quick fifteen minute guided meditation out on the porch, just as was recommended, a womans soft breathy voice guiding you through breathing exercises and wellness techniques that you were only half paying attention to.

Your reflex was to grab your phone and post your regularly scheduled promotions for whatever sponsor you were set up with for the day, but here you were, no pressure to post anything, no schedule to follow.

In short, you felt like you had too much free time to do anything with.

Standing on the porch looking out into the driveway in the distance, you could only huff and walk back inside, looking for something that you could fill your day with.

There was only so much old coffee to wash off of the mugs on the sink, polishing them to perfection was enough to waste away a whopping seventeen minutes, you’re only other option to sit on the plush couch and flick on the tv on the wall.

Sitting cross legged, you flicked through a few channels, nothing but older sitcoms played out on the tv stations out this way, maybe a local ad here and there.

As you flicked once more to another channel, the sound of the halfway point of a song began, realising you’d flicked onto the MTV of all things, surprised they even aired it out this far.

Within seconds, you recognised the song to be one of your own, the music video playing along with it, the skintight outfit you were wearing glistening while you danced, two other backup dancers imitating the movements behind you.

You could remember filming this one so clearly, the green screen you’d been made to dance in front of a clear memory, now superimposing you against a backdrop of what you guessed was meant to be the top of a building.

Inbetween the shots of you dancing and singing, they were followed by snippets of you splayed out onto a silk sheet on a bed, the little black nightie they’d put you in leaving little to the imagination as you made bedroom eyes into the camera, just as you were directed to.

It was hard not to cringe, you didn’t even hate the song entirely, the lyrics were just empty against what could have been a half decent hook.

Words of desire towards nobody in particular, singing about how much you loved some imaginary person and how badly you needed them.

The next shot seemed to be you in some sort of leather leotard with gold details, walking through a crowd of people in just as odd outfits dancing along to the song you were lip syncing against.

Unable to watch anymore, you flicked over to the next channel not even caring much for what was on there anymore, even if it was just so that you could have some background noise.

The feeling of your phone vibrating next to you was a welcome distraction, even if it was just a notification from the weather app.

Oh. This was much better than the weather.

A text message, from an unknown number, that didn’t remain unknown for long as you actually opened the message, reading keenly as you found yourself sitting up straighter.

‘hey, its niki. i hope you dont mind, your dad gave me your number before he left last night.’

Even thought you ached to check whether or not he’d actually asked for your number, or if your dad had simply offered it, which did actually sound like something he’d do to be polite to one of your old highschool friends, you resisted, some part of you trying her hardest to remain composed and play it cool.

Is it weird if you respond back too quickly? Would he know you’ve done nothing all day except stare at your phone and cringe at old music videos.

Tapping the back of your phone against your hand impatiently, you allowed at least a minute or two before you even looked at the message again, feeling the slightest bit giddy.

Finally allowing yourself the privilege of typing back a message, you’re teeth sunk into your bottom lip just a little bit as your nails tapped lightly against the screen.

‘oh hey! that’s ok, we probably should have exchanged numbers anyway, considering, haha.’

Unable to help yourself, you screenshotted the message, along with your response, sending it straight to Amanda, already knowing that she would want to be the first of all people to know.

Watching the text you had sent her turn green, as well as the small ‘read’ icon coming up from the bottom almost immediately, it shouldn’t have been a surprise that the facetime request all ready popped up onto your screen, the photo you took of Amanda when you were out to dinner spanning across the screen.

Opening the call with a soft hum sound, Amanda’s face came into view, a grin on her face rivalling that of the cheshire cat.

From what you could see, she was in her gym clothes, her hair in a low bun and a fresh sheen of sweat on her face as she walked to the locker room.

“What did i tell you.” she spoke as soon as she was alone in the locker room, shaking her head at you in the way she always did when she was proven right.

“Ok but like, this doesn’t mean anything solid yet.”

Your response only made her smirk more, her head turning as she opened up the locker containing her bag.

“Clearly he wants to give you something solid.”

Letting out a cackle, your head flying back slightly as you stood yourself, walking to the kitchen and placing the phone on the window sill so that you could make another coffee as you talked.

Before you could continue, you heard your phone vibrate, looking straight at the screen and squinting as you read the message that popped up.

Hearing the vibration through the face time call, Amanda’s wide eyed looked only made you grin more, putting a hand over your mouth to laugh as she placed her airpod in her ear to get ready to exit the gym.

“What’d he say!” she begged, waiting impatiently as you opened the message and read it silently. “I want you, baby, come round to my house so I can bend you over my kitchen table.” Amanda’s poor impression of some kind of latin accent and her comically deepened voice only made you roll your eyes.

“Shut up, thats not what it says.”

Finally reading the message, you couldn’t help but hop in place a tiny bit and let out a small little giggle.

“He’s asking if i’m gonna be at the rodeo on Wednesday, his dad and him are gonna be running his food truck there.”

As Amanda let out a sound of glee, she held a finger to signal to you to wait a second as she opened her car door and got inside, positioning the phone up on her dashboard as she gripped the steering wheel of the parked car.

“So, first of all, you’re going” she began, already taking charge as if she was planning every little detail out in her head to the upmost significance. “And second of all, you will be calling me the night of to pick a pair of jeans that makes your ass look irresistable.”

Rolling your eyes, you pulled up a mocking salute, unable to say no to any of Amanda’s orders; To be completely fair, she knew better thank you about most of these things, having always been the one you came to for advice.

She felt untouchable to you sometimes, like she just had everything figured out, even if you knew in your heart of hearts it wasn’t true.

There had been more than enough times where she’d been vulnerable to you in the same way you had to her, the time’s she’d taken care of her niece when her sister had to go through some treatment at the hospital, the flowers you’d helped her pick out.

It was so often that she was looking after you, so coming around to her place to help her with some dinner and a helping hand with the fussy little seven year old girl had been something she’d barely even had to ask.

“Ok girl, i love you, but i have to get ready to head back home, i’m having Kaycey over again.”

Nodding understandably, you gave her a smile as picked up the phone, using your free hand to run your fingers across your scalp, a small yawn coming out of your mouth.

“Tell her i said hi.”

Kaycey was adorable, but full of stubbornness, the pair of you slowly worked out what made her tick, how she preferred to watch old Bratz movies you’d watched when you were younger, as opposed to Bluey. As the facetime finally ended, the small chirp from your phone signalling the disconnect, you finally spared a look out the window, noticing the beginnings of rain falling from a now darkened sky, the first time it’s rained since the first time you arrived back in Wyoming.

Leaning against the wall as you held your phone back up, you continued typing out your response to Niki, assuring him you wouldn’t miss it, that you’d come up and say hi, even requesting the promise of some free food as a lighthearted joke.

Putting your phone down on the counter, you allowed yourself a moment to step outside, the pittering of rain already starting to sound out against the tin patio roof;

Just as you’d used to do all the time as a child, you took a deep inhale into your lungs, the unplaceable smell of the rain making your mind come flooding with nostalgia.

You’d had no idea just how good the smell of Wyoming rain smelled until it had been so long since you’d even been around it, finding yourself at a weird sense of peace that you hadn’t experienced for a long while.

When the night before the rodeo finally came, there’d been a steady stream of messaging occurring with Niki, messages exchanged reminiscing over highschool memories, asking about how his mother was doing and him gushing about how happy she was about the photo.

Graduating from texting to snapchat should have definitely been the first sign, or at least Amanda thought it was.

Soon enough you were receiving stupid little selfies of him grinning while stood behind the bar, captioned with things such as ‘it’s so dead here, don’t how know many more glasses i can polish’.

It was hard to pretend like you weren’t kicking your legs like a little girl whenever you received one of his absolutely adorable selfies, sometimes at home, sometimes at work.

It was on the off chance that when he’d asked how you were doing, you had a photo of a towel on the door, mentioning needing to take a shower in a bit.

The following snap you’d received from him only about a minute or two later had you with your jaw slack.

A cheeky grin on his face, obviously aware of the nature of the photo, there he stood in all his glory, his arm reached above his head to rest his hand on the doorway above him, his shirt riding up just enough so that you could see the beginning of a line going along his pelvis, a sneaky little hint of olive skin poking out.

For a moment you felt like you’d died and gone to heaven, the way you had to put a hand over your mouth to hide the small laugh of disbelief at his sudden boldness.

The caption didn’t help by any means, only agreeing that he himself also had to shower, the mirror in the bathroom providing just enough of a shadow so that he was slightly less in view.

At first, it was hard not to feel at least a little bit of panic, debating what exactly you could send back, whether or not you wanted to match his energy, return the bone he had thrown your way.

Brief consultation with Amanda has proved more than helpful, advising that an innocent enough little selfie in your pajamas laying on the bed was more than enough of a response, while still hinting at something more.

By no means were you about to jump into sending a nude to your old science partner, but there was certainly some little kick out of being subtly flirty, you definitely missed the feeling of being desired, to be chased, it was invigorating.

It was in all honesty refreshing.

As you placed your phone back face down on the side table, there was a level on anticipation to be found, even if it was late; knowing you were gonna see him tomorrow and that you’d had a pair of jeans hanging on your door along with the stetson your father had just let you keep.

Everything coming together made it hard to sleep at all.

With your father’s agreeance to drop you off at the rodeo, even if he wasn’t attending himself this time, he’d seemed please you were taking the initiative to go somewhere by yourself, musing about how he’d been invited to a poker night with some friends anyway.

Assuring that he’d have his phone on the entire time if you needed anything, he’d waved goodbye to you from the window of his truck, a pleased smile on his face.

The task of actually weaving through the crowds was daunting at first, but slowly you became used to the feeling of turning your body from side to side as you progressed forward, allowing yourself to move in the same rhythm as everyone around you.

There was definitely so much to see that had changed since when you used to go to the rodeo as a kid, more games for the kids set up, so many more different food options available, it was a weird, but not unwelcome change in the slightest.

Watching a group of kids throwing darts at the balloons set up on the wall in front of them, it was hard not to smile, your arms crossing over your chest and watching one of the smallest ones lining up their shot, concentration clearly ethched on his chubby little face, before he threw, a pop sounding out as he cheered with his friends.

Well that was just a little bit adorable huh.

Pulling your purse tighter to your shoulder, you’d hoped your choice of outfit was plain enough so as to not stand out hugely, the denim flare’s on your legs paired with a slightly cropped tee, simple enough, you’d hoped.

The smell of all the fried food only became more tempting the closer you got, being reminded of one of the reasons you’d even come out to the rodeo by yourself in the first place.

You kept your eyes peeled, trying to remember Niki’s description of the food truck that he’d shared over text, as well as a rough idea of where it’d be parked.

It was the bright yellow that initially caught your eye, followed by the small line following to the window lit up by fluorescent white light, only to finally land on Niki, there, in all his glory, a short sleeved grey shirt and apron around his neck.

He seemed so swept up by orders, handing food out of the window and yelling out orders with each docket printing out seemingly at an unforgiving pace.

You recognised his father, along with one other stranger, likely just another cook that worked at the restaurant, grilling away, working at a pace that made you nervous on their behalf.

Smiling to yourself, you approached patiently, waiting for the line to go down until you eventually got to the front, the anticipation killing you each time you’d step forward.

Just as professional as always, you heard Niki yell out a quick “Just one second!” as he hadn’t turned his head to look at you yet, punching an order into an ipad with the concentration of a nuerosurgeon.

When he’d finally looked down at you, you’re smile greeting him, it was quickly reciprocated, his eyes widening as he leaned forward slightly out of the window.

“Hey you! You made it!” he started, turning to look at the dockets printed and hanging above the grill, seemingly checking to see how it was all travelling before he turned back to you.

“If you give me like, five minutes, ill come out and hang, just gotta wait for the rush to finish.”

He was so sweet about it, seeming apologetic as if you weren’t the one he was preparing to halt his work for. Nodding, you gave him a thumbs up, going to turn before you heard his voice once more.

“Pendeja!” he yelled with a laugh, shaking his head when you turned back around “what do you want?” he enquired, gesturing to the chalk board on the side of the truck “on the house.”

“Niki, no, i can’t-”

Your protest was interrupted by a wave of his hand.

“Shut up and tell me what you want.”

God his smile was so gorgeous, even when he was telling you to shut up.

Letting out a sigh as you tilted your head, it was hard to concentrate on anything written on the chalkboard next to his head.

“Just surprise me.”

Finding a spot to the side was easy enough, settling yourself down on one of the many tables that had been set up as a place to eat, you could only wait in silence, finding yourself unable to do much else aside from checking your phone occasionally, pretending to be interested in the time.

Just as promised, after about five or so minutes, you could Niki arriving from the distance, two plastic plates in his hands, apron now discarded you didn’t know where.

Your arm extended out to wave at him, smiling brightly as he came to sit across from you, sliding the plate of food in front of you.

Only now that he was across from you did you realise that he was also holding two glass bottles under his arm, grabbing them and setting them on the table between the two of you, a satisfied sigh leaving his throat as he gestured to what you now realised was a corona.

“For you.” he spoke, nodding to himself, seemingly not noticing the way your face fell only slightly, still trying your hardest to maintain a smile.

You had absolutely no clue how to actually explain everything, the reason you couldn’t touch anything even slightly alcoholing, on top of how you might explain it to him without making him feel petrified at having offered you a beer of all things.

Opening your mouth to speak, you could only let out a small sound, seemingly having no clue as to how you would phrase it.

Noticing the look on your face, his eyebrows rose, concern seeming to cross over his features as he looked down at the spread he’d brought for you.

It felt rude to decline the drink he’d brought for you, no doubt from the fridge of the food truck himself, even worse if he’d actually bought it for you.

“Everything ok? Is it the food? I didn’t make it if thats what you’re wondering.”

His attempt at brushing it off with humour made you feel better in all honestly, a soft exhale of laughter leaving your lips as you leaned forward and hung your head slightly.

Looking back up, you gave him an apologetic look.

“No, the food looks amazing, it’s just..” part of you felt petrified to even touch the bottle, images of you drunk in the street in heels and a sparkly outfit while paparazzi hounded you coming to mind.

Keeping your voice low, you kept it to a simple “I don’t drink.”

Niki’s eye’s widened, his arm immediately coming out to grip the bottle, pulling it to his end.

“Shit, im so sorry.”

The fact he felt bad for something he didn’t even realise killed you a little, yet he seemed to shift the mood back over pretty quickly, sending you that same grin he’d sported in the bathroom photo.

“More for me.”

As you sat and ate, your discussion seemed to range from an array of different topics, old school memories that you were able to laugh about all the way to him explaining all the different times he’d had to kick people out of the bar.

All good things must come to an end evidently, your stomach sinking a little bit as the topic of yourself was brought back into discussion.

“So how long do you think you’re gonna be back in town for?”

The question was obviously innocent, but it only made that ever present anxiety in the back of your mind grow ten fold. The long answer was that you had no idea, would you just hide out here till you had no career to come back to?

Live off of the royalties of your songs for the rest of your life? Not likely.

As much as you wanted to pretend the rest of the world didn’t exist past this small town, you knew there was still record studio executives waiting on you, of course the timeline of your recovery was in your hands, the scandal could still keep your name in headlines for at least a little while longer.

But eventually you knew in your soul they were going to start pulling out when you started dropping off the charts, fading into obscurity.

In the god’s honest truth you hadn’t even thought about it that deeply yourself.

“Absolutely no clue.” you laughed out, holding your hands up and shrugging your shoulders; you didn’t want to go into the details with Niki, you didn’t really wanna burden anyone with the details really.

“I guess this could be a good place for some inspiration, maybe write some new music while im here.”

You didn’t even know yourself if that was true, the inspiration in you had been long sucked dry, when your team started bringing on ghost writers and producers, assuring you that the money was worth the creative integrity.

Deciding that this conversation was doing probably more harm than good to your inner dialogue, you rose from your seat, gathering up the plastic plates and swinging your purse over your shoulder.

“I think i’m gonna go watch the bull riding.”

It definitely was a little bit rude, but the food had been long finished and you knew that there was only so long Niki’s father was going to tolerate him being away from the truck for so long.

“And you.” pointing a finger at him as he stood, placing his hands in his pockets

“Need to get back and keep helping your father out.”

Holding his hands up in a surrendering manner, he only nodded in agreeance with you, the smirk on his face carrying just as much mischief as it always seemed to.

“Okay, okay. I’ll do what i’m told, but only this time.”

Niki returned the gesture of a finger pointed at you as he began to walk backwards, shaking his head as he looked at you.

“I’ll see you round, Pendeja.”

Watching him turn to jog back around the corner to where the food truck was, you could only let out a small huff.

There was definitely an inner turmoil at play within you, that was for certain.

Niki was such a sweetheart, and clearly there was a mutual attraction shared between the two of you, but the petrifying fear of intimacy within you, much less whatever it was exactly that eas starting to bubble between the two of you, seemed to be taking precedence each time a little bit of progress was made.

Even now as you continued your walk towards the bull riding stands, finding a place to sit inbetween all of the other people that lined up to see some cowboys get flung, you were unable to stop the slight frown from cementing itself on your face.

The idea that you could get in the way of yourself that badly was infuriating, but then the idea of jumping straight into another man’s arms so soon after such a messy breakup was just the same.

Hell, the wound was only about four months healed, you still occasionally saw your ex’s face coming up on old mutual friend’s social media, it was nowhere near enough time to just brush something like that aside, right?

When do you know when it’s because you actually want something like that, and not just yourself desperately seeking out the comfort of trading one man out for another?

As the event began, that same familiar rock music blaring out of the speakers just the same as last time, you occupied yourself with watching men getting flung off of thrashing bull’s backs.

Even then, it’s hard to be distracted by self pity when you’ve got something so absolutely entertaining in front of you.

The stupid rodeo clown was even enough to have a laugh leaving your throat.

As fun as it all was to watch, the universe decided that it was particularly enjoying fucking with you tonight, considering that you’d forgotten one big fundamental detail at the bull riding that was currently on.

That detail, that important little smidgen you’d conveniently forgotten?

Rhett Abbott was coming on next.

It was the first time you’d even heard his name since the restaurant, much less seen him in person, having been so distracted by the prospect of meeting up with Niki, you’d completely forgotten about his existence all together. You tried to force yourself not be invested, truly, wanted to continue the air of not caring if he lived or died, considering that was obviously how he felt about you.

Yet when the horn rang out and you immediately heard the sharp clanging of hooves on metal as the gate was swung open, for some reason you just could not look away.

The bull was relentless, seeming to thrash itself in a change of direction as much as possible, determined to get what i considered to be nothing but an annoying flea off of its rump.

As much as you cursed the ground he walked on, hated the way he looked at you with an air of superiority. God, as much as you hated him for starting the nickname tweety bird in highschool.

It would be a lie to say he wasn’t doing a damn good job. You didn’t have to like him or even particularly enjoy his company to see that.

You could literally hear the cheers of the crowd growing wilder the longer he stayed on the bull for, that anticipation of waiting to see whether or not he’d get flung off before his eight seconds were up.

In some weird way, time seemed to be moving in slow motion, yet ultra fast all at the same time, with every millisecond that you didn’t hear the buzzer making your heart rate increase.

As soon as it rang out, like a choir of angels sent from heaven itself, you let out a breath you didn’t even realise you were holding, letting go of your purse handle which was now sporting little moon shaped indents from how hard you were gripping it.

The roar of the crowd around you was palpable, your silence pertaining more to your absolute shock, your mouth hanging open slightly.

As he finally allowed the bull to shake him off, being helped to his feet hastily by a handler as the rest worked at getting the bull back through the gate, you could see his chest rising and falling even from the distance you were at.

Adrenaline was a powerful thing, you knew that better than anybody, as you watched Rhett Abbott begin to bang on his chest like some sort of primal warrior, it was palpable.

His eye’s scanning the crowd hadn’t initially had you off guard, obviously he was enjoying the resounding response to his victory, continuing to bash his fist against his chest.

Even when his eyes landed on you.

As if set off, seeing you in the crowd, knowing you’d witnessed what just occurred, you weren’t sure if it was ego or something else entirely.

But you could have sworn he was smirking.

With a final bang to his chest, your vision might have been tricking you, but had he just nodded at you, a single, sturt nod before he’d turned to jog back to the gate, jumping it as if it was nothing.

You’re head tilted, eyes widening and brows furrowing.

Exactly what the fuck did he mean by that one?

Whether you were meant to be insulted by that, you had absolutely zero clue, the only thing you were certain of is that whatever it was, it was most certainly meant for you.

Left thoroughly confused by whatever it was that had just been shared between the two of you, you dispersed with the rest of the crowd when the rodeo was swiftly coming to an end.

Now noting the lights from games that were no longer on, as well as the now dwindling number of people around, the show grounds were suddenly seeming a lot quieter.

You were definitely tired, no doubt about that, hell, it was nearing almost midnight.

As much fun as it had been to go out by yourself for the first time in ages, the task you were now faced with of getting home was already proving itself to be a daunting one.

Exiting into the now nearly empty parking lot, you stood by the entrance and pulled out your phone, tapping the name ‘dad’ in your contact list and putting the phone to your ear.

Soft ringing was all that you could hear, feeling your heart drop a little bit as it continued, all the way up until his voice mail began to play.

Sucking in a sharp and nervous breath, you hung up and dialed his number again, waiting with a nervous breath, reassuring yourself that he’d probably just put his phone down somewhere and that any minute now he’d pick up.

Yet as his voicemail continued once more, you already felt a lump in your throat as panic began to set in.

Trying two more times evidently wasn’t a big help, doing absolutely nothing to remedy yourself.

Pacing back and fourth by the entrance was doing little for you, running your free hand along the seamline of your jeans not helping in the slightest as your heart beat hammered in your own head. As your own thoughts began to get to you more and more, you subsided in your attempts to call your father, nothing the fifteen percent battery life left on your phone, if he tried to call you back, a flat phone would do absolutely no good.

Yet as about ten more minutes passed, no buzzing from your phone, you were now cursing softly to yourself, feeling tears prick in the corner of your eyes as you rummaged around in your purse for some sort of miracle, anything to feel like you were doing something other than just standing there about to cry.

“What the hell are you still doin’ here?”

Initially, you jumped at the sound of a voice behind you, turning to see who it was however, only made you want to sink further and further into your little pity party.

“Fuck off, Rhett. I really don’t need this right now.”

Any attempt to hide the way your voice wobbled was futile, turning your head up to the sky to try and blink your tears out of existence as you let out a shaky exhale.

“Hey, fuck you. I was just checkin’ to see if you were okay. Christ, don’t worry about it.”

His response only made your lip wobble more, your head hanging as you heard him walk past you, the gravel crunching under his boots, growing softer as he walked towards his truck.

Desperation was a powerful thing, top it off with you on the verge of a panic attack wondering how the hell you’re going to get home that doesn’t involve walking and becoming coyote food.

“Rhett, i’m sorry.” you wobbled out, the sound seeming to stop the cowboy in his tracks, duffel bag hanging off his shoulder as he turned to watch you walk towards him.

“Please, I know you fuckin’ hate me and god knows I don’t know why. But I can’t get home, my dad was supposed to pick me up and he’s not answering me.”

Almost as if you could quite literally see him deliberating, he looked across at you, your puffy eyes and wobbling lip seeming to be enough to appeal to his better nature, whatever the beef seemingly shared between the two of you.

“Fuck sake..” he whispered to himself, letting out a huff as he unlocked his truck and opened the driver side door. “Get in.”

Letting out a sigh of relief, you scurried around to the passenger side of his truck, opening the door and moving a few things off of the passenger seat before sitting down and closing the door.

Trying to compose yourself as he got in next to you and shut his own door, you could hardly even focus on how you were now sitting in the truck of a man you apparently hated.

“I can’t take you to your pa’s place.” he started, his tone already laced with annoyance at the predicament he had found himself in and somehow agreed to.

As he spoke, you waited him to finish, already not loving the idea of not being in your own bed tonight, but anything was better than being stranded out here at night.

“It’s the exact opposite of where I live and I’m fucking exhausted.”

You couldn’t blame him in that regard, you were just as tired if not more, feeling as if you could even fall asleep on these seats, as uncomfortable as they were.

“But, I have a pullout couch you can crash on, just don’t make too much fuckin’ noise and i’ll take you home in the morning, gotta head out that way anyway.”

Nodding, you were in no position to say otherwise, and you knew you were already on thin ice anyway, arguing against him could result in him rescinding his offer of transport all together.

“Ok.” you spoke, trying to calm yourself down and relax knowing you were gonna be safe for the night “I’ll be quiet as a mouse, you won’t even know i’m there i promise-”

As you spoke, he sent you what could only be described as a warning look, tired and exhausted eye’s telling you all that you needed to know.

“Starting now.” you finished, buckling you seat belt and keeping your gaze out the window as his truck pulled out of the parking lot.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 : @foreverchangingmind . @tsukikyo . @marsupialnoises . @iknowrocknroll . @astromilku .

#bob thunderbolts #lewis pullman #lewis pullman fic #lewis pullman x reader #rhett abbott fanfiction #rhett abbott fic #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott #robert reynolds #bob reynolds x reader #outer range fanfic #rhett abbott x you #outer range #rhett abbot

84 notes · View notes

edwardhartenjoyer · 1 day ago

Text

I Should Have Been There

You were out on a mission when you got attacked. You didn't see the anomaly coming and got pretty badly hurt. You get rushed back to Darkwick where rumors quickly spread about your injury, leading to your boyfriend soon finding out. He hurries to be by your side, so sorry he wasn't there to protect you.

Featuring: Sho | Edward | Yuri | Taiga | Zenji

Shohei Haizono - The moment Sho heard that you were rushed to Darkwick General after your latest mission had gone bad he threw the keys to his food truck at Subaru, asking him to shut everything down for him, before he rushed off to go see you.

When he got to your room and saw you unconscious and wrapped up in bandages all over, he felt so angry at the ghouls of the house you'd been with. How could they fail to protect you! Before he could go lay one into them, he needed to know you were okay, he needed to hear your voice again.

He sat down into the chair next to your bed and gently took your hand in his. "Hey senpai, I'm here for you. Just make sure you wake up for me, okay?"

When you finally do wake up it's the next day. You feel sore all over, and it takes a moment for you to notice that Sho is still there, holding your hand while he sleeps in the chair next to your bed.

"S-Sho.." you croaked out, voice barely coming out, but that's all it takes to snap him awake.

"MC, senpai, you're awake!" He sighed in relief before removing his hand from yours, only to hand you a glass of water. You take it eagerly, downing the entire thing. "How you feeling?" He asked when you were done, gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face.

"Like I got hit by a truck." You replied honestly. He chuckled softly, though you could tell it was forced.

"I'm glad you're okay."

When you get released to go back to the cathedral, Sho helps you get home. He stays with you for the next few days, so expect lots of home cooking.

And, when you're finally able to go on missions again, you find that you keep getting assigned to Vagastrom, not that you mind.

Yuir Isami - The second Yuri heard you were injured on the mission, he demanded you be placed into his care, not sent to Darkwick General.

He gets his wish and is the one who cares for all your wounds. If they're especially bad and his hands are shaking too much from worry and fear, then Jiro takes over with Yuri closely supervising.

Yuri sat with you as often as possible while waiting for you to wake up, and if he had other matters to attend to, then Jiro was watching over you, waiting to tell Yuri if you woke up.

When you finally did wake up, Yuri was there at your side, reading over something.

"Yuri.." You gasped, and his attention immediately snapped to you. He handed you a glass of water with a "drink!" Barked at you before he started to check you over. Once he was done checking you over and you'd finished off your glass, he started to talk.

"You idiot! I thought you were smarter than this! How could you let yourself get hurt?! This is why you shouldn't trust those Frostheim idiots! They can't be trusted to keep you safe! They -" Yuri paused as he realised tears were starting to fall down his face. "They nearly made me lose you." He finished slumping back into his spot next to you.

You reached out your hand and wiped some of the tears off his face. "But you didn't lose me because I'm here, because you, my amazing doctor, healed me."

He sniffled and tried to look smug, "Well, of course, the great Dr. Yuri Isami doesn't let his patients die on him. Apparently, it's up to me to keep you alive now, too."

Yuri keeps you in Mortkraken for as long as possible, letting you stay in his room and having either himself or Jiro bring you anything you need. When you do start going on missions again, Jiro accompanies you on them, especially if you end up sent to Frostheim again, if Yuri barely trusted them before, he does so even less now and won't risk you getting hurt again.

Taiga Hoshibami- Taiga's reaction is a mixed bag. When he first heard you got injured, he struggled with remdmbering why he should care that you got hurt. When he does finally piece it together, all hell breaks loose.

You woke up and groaned at the pounding pain in your head and the aches you felt all over. You slowly opened your eyes and blinked in surprise at what you saw.

"Romeo..why are you here?" You croaked out, the Sinostra Vice captain looking starkly out of place sitting next to your hospital bed. He looked up from his phone when he heard you speak

"Tch, about time you woke up BB. That BTH has been FOTR ever since he found out you were here."

"FOTR..?" You asked slowly, too sore to try and piece together whatever the hell Romeo was going on about.

"Ugh, Flying Off The Rails BB!" Romeo snapped, "We had to lock him up in his room so he wouldn't go on a spree. Be more careful next time!!"

When you get released from Darkwick General, you get taken straight to Sinostra and Taiga's room where Ritsu and a bunch of nervous looking lackeys guard the door. Romeo lead you past all of them and into the room beyond.

The room was a mess, furniture thrown about, bullet holes in things, and Taiga, laying in the middle of all the mess. He looked up when you came in and suddenly he's clinging to you.

"KITTY CAT!! There you are!" He grinned at you."Lulu told me he'd be bringing you. You're staying here from now on, fucking idiots trying to hurt my Kitty Cat." He grumbles, mumbling that last part, though you still hear him. You bite back a comment about him trying to hurt you multiple times, too, and instead follow him to where he leads you.

You live here now. Taiga's not letting you go back to be anywhere without him. He gets your things brought to his room. You never really find out what his 'flying off the rails' was, but Ritsu tells you later that even he would have had a hard time defending Taiga in court if he'd done half the things he'd been threatening to do when he'd been locked in.

You're best just to do missions for Sinostra from now on or to just stay where Taiga can keep an eye on you.

Zenji Kotodama - When Zenji heard from Haku that you had been taken to Mortkraken for serious injuries, he was overcome with worry for you, though he also knew you were in good hands with his baby brother in charge of your care.

He came over as soon as he could, hovering by your side and telling you poems and epics until you woke up.

When you finally woke up, you saw the worried form of Zenji next to your side. You would have talked to him right then, but Jiro came in to start checking up on you.

"Oh my doll, I'm so glad you're okay. I knew my sweet baby brother would keep you safe, but I still needed to be here for you. I knew you'd feel better waking up if you heard my voice so I told you my latest creations, which not to worry, I'll happily repeat for you now that you're awake."

You smiled softly as you listened to Zenji. Once Jiro left, giving you the all clear to go home, you were able to speak freely with him.

"Thank you for coming Zenji, I feel better just from knowing you were here."

"I'm only sorry I wasn't there to protect you my Doll." He fretted. "Please, let me make it up to you. You should come stay in Hotarubi while you recover, this way you'll be well taken care of."

You agree and follow him back to Hotarubi, where over your recovery, you spend your days listening to Zenji's masterpieces while Haku and Subaru help check up on your health.

Once you start going on missions again, Zenji and his brother doll accompany you around on all of them. He's not taking the risk of letting you get hurt again without him being there to protect you.

Edward Hart - Edward heard of your injury from Rui, the blonde letting him know the moment he heard. Despite all his grumblings about never wanting to leave Obscuary and moving around hurting him, when night falls he appeared at your bedside to wait for you to wake up.

When you do wake up in the dead of night, you feel a comforting weight on the bed next to you. You turned your head and saw Edward there, napping as he laid over the covers on the bed next to you. You smiled and rested your head on him as you fell back asleep.

When you got released from the hospital, Edward brought you back to Obscuary to stay in his room with you so he could keep an eye on your health.

If you need anything, then Rui is the one to get it for you. Edward does spend the entire time clinging to you, though. It's clear to you that your near death experience rattled him. He's used to the fragility of human lives, often commenting about how short they seem to him, but this seemed to serve as a stark reminder to him that he could lose you at any moment.

When you go back to doing missions, you usually end up coming home to find Edward hanging out in the cathedral waiting for you. He also might ask more often if you'll let him turn you now, he just doesn't want to risk losing you.

#tokyo debunker #zenji kotodama x reader #zenji kotodama #sho haizono #shohei haizono x reader #taiga hoshibami #taiga hoshibami x reader #edward hart x reader #edward hart #yuri isami x reader #yuri isami #my fic

79 notes · View notes

militarywifesvt · 2 days ago

Text

Love next door (last part)

Pairing : idolneighbour!cheol x neighbour!reader

Genre : fluff

Trope : neighbours to lovers

Warnings : none.

Summary : how could he not find you cute when all you do is pout and cause trouble ?

A/n : I just realised that I might have not made this story like how anon requested . Anon , if you're reading this , I sincerely apologise if you didn't like it or this wasn't how you wanted it .

The next few days felt like hell . You couldn't get a decent amount of sleep and you easily get distracted at work . After what happened with seungcheol , you promised yourself you would make things right . But then , you realized that this promise might be a little hard . The problem is , you don't know how to approach a man , or in other words , you don't know how to approach him especially .

The second seungcheol sees you anywhere , he turns the other way . He even changed his schedule to not see you in the morning . It was hard to even make eye contact , let alone talk to him . So now , you need some advice , right ? And who do you have except from aunt younghee ? Nobody .

" So aunty , if someone you like confessed to you and you were too nervous to form a proper sentence and you ended up saying something that sounded like a rejection . And that someone ran off and is embarrassed to talk to you . What would you do ? Just asking for a friend. "

You asked her , with the most awkward giggle ever , trying not to sound too obvious .

" is this about that celebrity guy on the second floor ? " She looks at you with the corner of her eye , sipping her coffee while smiling cheekily .

You almost choke on your drink . Were you that obvious ? Oh god , what a bad liar .

" What ? Pfft , of course not ! I told you , I'm asking for a friend ."

You manage to answer , avoiding her eyes , trying to be as nonchalant as possible . Aunt younghee puts down her cup of coffee before answering calmly , like she believed you .

" Well , if your friend knows she isn't brave enough to go talk to the boy she likes , then she should just let him go . "

" What ? No ! But I like- I mean she likes him so much ! How could she let him go ? "

You stood from shock , eyebrows frowned like she just told you to jump off a cliff .

" Then go talk to him , you dummy . " She answered , dragging you to sit back down , gently hitting you in the head .

" You were dumb enough to let him walk away like that . Don't let him go without telling him how you feel . Go get your man back before I smack you again . "

You smiled widely before standing up , kissing her on the cheek and running out the door .

" Thank you aunty ! Love you ! " You said in a rush , shutting the door behind you .

You sprinted through the stairs , being as fast as possible . You got into your apartment and got straight to work . You accepted the fact that you can't approach him . But there's nothing a tasty cookie can't fix , right ? So , you baked a fresh batch of cookies , decorated them with bright icing and little smiley faces to deliver them to Mr.Vanish this evening .

After waiting for hours that felt like a decade , the evening arrived . You wore the best outfit in your closet , actually put some effort in doing your hair , not the usual messy bun , and sprayed some perfume .

Everything was ready . So you grabbed the little surprise and walked to seungcheol's apartment . You placed the box of decorated cookies on the floor , knocked and ran away . After a couple of seconds , he opened the door , looked around and saw nothing but the little surprise . He crouched to read the note on top of the box

ATTENTION ‼️‼️ : A GIRL WHO DOESN'T KNOW HOW TO APPROACH HER CRUSH OF 2 MONTHS AFTER SHE ACCIDENTALLY REJECTED HIM WAS SPOTTED AT THE RED BENCH NEAR THE CONVENIENCE STORE . WE KINDLY ASK (BEG) YOU TO GO TALK TO HER BECAUSE SHE HAS NO RIZZ AND CAN ONLY MAKE COOKIES .

To not sound like a liar , you cringed really hard while writing that note ( me too 😭 ) . But if that was the only way to get him back , you will gladly do it without hesitation .

After reading your little message , seungcheol's ears turned red . He smiled so widely while covering his mouth , rereading your note to make sure he isn't dreaming . He sprinted to the convenience store , not even bothering to change his flip-flops . He got there after a five minute run , and saw you . Eyes worried , looking around waiting for the sight of him . As soon as you spotted him , your face lit up and tears started forming in your eyes .

" I thought you wouldn't show up . " You managed to say , smiling through your tears . " Last time , you walked away before letting me continue . Don't do it this time . "

He looked at you with admiration , like he's been waiting for this moment since forever .

" I like you too , dummy " you finally confessed , gently hitting him on the chest .

" I've always liked you . Since you looked at me with those damn eyes for the first time . Since you took care of me like nobody did . I love you , seungcheol . "

You smile at him brightly , the same smile he fell for right when he met you . He opened his arms and wrapped you in the warmest hug .

" Now you won't be able to get rid of me . " He says sarcastically , burying his face in the crook of your neck .

" Wasn't planning on it in the first place . " You answered instantly , hands wrapped around his neck .

" I love you , y/n "

" I love you too , cheol "

And just like that , they were able to fix what they once accidentally broke . So , what are you still doing girl ? Go get your man back with a box of cookies ! Maybe he'll fall for your smile , maybe he already did !

Taglist : @alien0n3arth @cscstrap @syluslittlecrows @cheolliesvt

#svt carat #seventeen #svt fanfic #artists on tumblr #seventeen fluff #choi seungcheol #seventeen imagines #svt fluff #seventeen x you #written by ivy

56 notes · View notes

77gigabytes · 2 days ago

Text

Bittersweet {Barista!Sylus x Reader}

I'M ALIVE FRENS, I SWEAR ╭( ๐_๐)╮

Soooo, this one (and a bunch of others) have been in my notes for ages, and I guess my writing juice only comes once a year and finishes them off...

Right, now I'm trying to flesh out my Model!Sylus x Photographer!Reader - I'm planning for it to be a series so please look forward to it! Hopefully I have enough writing juice to finish it ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ )

|| Masterlist ||

Amidst the clinking of teacups and the occasional whir of the coffee machine, your pen scritches against the endless amount of HA papers you have to fill. For every mission, every single move, is another report, another piece of paper to fill out.

You sigh, bracing your chin against your hand and gaze out the window. Your finger taps against your cheek in time with the clock.

7:39 PM

Tara’s late.

Just as the thought crosses your mind, Tara whips the door open and slides herself into the chair across from you.

“My goodness, MC, I don’t know why you choose here of all places to do your work.” She carelessly tosses her bag in the chair beside her and slumps into her own chair, “I swear I had to cross three rivers and climb two mountain on the way here.”

You chuckle, “Don’t forget the about the zip-line and the protofield at the start.”

She kicks your foot under the table and fans herself with the menu, “What’s so good about this place anyway?”

You smirk a little, “The barista’s cute.” You joke and nod your head in the direction of the kitchen behind her.

Tara subtly turns her head and pretends to look at the overhead menu in the kitchen before dropping her gaze to where Sylus was tending to other customers.

Her head whips back to you and she begins to fan herself with her hand, “Hooo, please, I’d cross another swamp to get here if that’s the face I’ll see at the end.”

You smile but turn back to your work, “Jokes aside,” you say without looking at Tara, “The coffee’s just the perfect blend of bittersweet. And… I like the atmosphere.” You shrug.

...

Not long after, as Tara finally picks a drink to order, Sylus approaches your table.

“One house special.” Sylus says as he places your cup on the table followed by a plate of cookies.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t order the-”

“It’s on the house, sweetie.” He gives you a wink and a boyish smile before walking back behind the counter to make the other customers’ drinks.

As if holding her breath Tara sighs out, “Gee, killer looks and a smooth voice to boot, no wonder you’re crossing all of Linkon just to do some documents.”

You give her a kick on the shin, “It’s the atmosphere and the coffee.” You argue.

“Sure, sure.”

❖· ────── ·

A few weeks have gone by, and now visiting this little coffee shop on the outskirts of Bloomshore has very much become a part of your daily routine. You can no longer use your work as an excuse to visit the café because you’ve come to visit it even on your days off.

You’ve learnt a few things throughout the weeks:

This is the only cafe in Bloomshore open until 1:30 in the morning. Or maybe even later than that, you’ve never stayed past 1:30.

Sylus must be making a whole lot of money for him to be giving you desserts on the house with every drink you order (You’ve also learnt that it’s futile to protest)

#2 can’t be possible since his coffee shop isn’t exactly overflowing with customers. There must be something else.

There’s two boys - Luke and Kieran, you overheard - who visit every Friday to collect some packages from Sylus. You’ve convinced yourself that it’s just coffee beans, or 'something else'.

But on top of that there was another instance where you realised that there was more to Sylus than what meets the eye.

As usual, you were doing some paperwork and Sylus brought your drink and a choc chip muffin this time.

The sun has long since dipped below the horizon, you wouldn’t be surprised if it was already time for it to return to the sky.

At this point, only you and a few other customers are left in the café. Some, students glued to their laptops, and others, dozing off on the tables. Either way, it’s quite peaceful tonight and you’ve gotten through two thirds of the report for your last mission. Yehey!

But alas, all good things come to an end.

Your watch beeps just as the tv, previously playing music in the background, switches to an emergency broadcast.

“Attention all. Attention all.” The newscaster frowns a little, “This is an emergency message from the Hunter’s Association - Wanderers have been sighted in the Bloomshore district.” A map pops up on the screen right where the coffee shop is located. The newscaster points to it, “If you are in this area, seek shelter immediately.”

Just as the message repeats, your watch vibrates against your wrist. A similar map is displayed - a live update of where the wanderer is headed - right in your direction.

Overhead, you hear the whir of helicopter blades and the other customers begin scrambling towards the entrance.

You stand at the entrance stopping one customer from leaving, “Stop! Stay calm everyone.” You show your badge to the customers, “I’m from the HA. At the moment, it’s best if we stay in the cafe. Stay under the tables.”

“Screw that!” one of the customers yells and pushes past you.

“Sir! The wanderer is-” You turn to grasp at his arm but not long after he bumps into Sylus, who had come to your side from behind the counter.

He towers over the customer with a stance imposing and unfamiliar as compared to the sweet barista you know.

“I suggest, sir, that you listen to miss hunter over here before you lose your life.” He narrows his eyes at the customer who gulps but still has the audacity to reply.

“If.. If I’m going to die, it sure as hell won’t be here in a coffee shop.” He insists.

Sylus simply gestures to the door, “Be my guest.” He says with a taunting smirk.

You look at him incredulously, “Ugh, why would you-”

“What? I have to honour a man’s dying wish. I would also prefer not to have a death in my coffee shop.”

Just as he finishes the sentence, the small coffee shop rumbles with the roar of the wanderer. The customers scream and scramble in all directions.

You click your tongue and push past him to follow after the customers who ran out in fear.

He just smiles and turns on his heel to follow after you.

Too engrossed in protecting the civilians, you don’t realise that Sylus is trailing behind you taking care of any straggling wanderers coming from behind.

When you hear the shrieks of the wanderers from behind, you see Sylus throwing blow after blow to its body.

Much too smooth and calculated to simply be a barista.

❖· ────── ·

As if that day had never happened, you’re back in your usual spot at the café. At the time of the incident, you were the closest hunter to the scene so naturally, you were tasked with writing up the report.

With your laptop propped on your thighs, your fingers are gliding over your keyboard as you type up the report - noting the time of the incident, to the nature of the incident, to those involved.

Your fingers tap lightly at the keyboard, not enough to input any letters, but to rid yourself of your anxiety. Write too much and the HA will investigate this place, and unfortunately, the packages that you’ve convinced yourself were coffee beans are in fact not coffee beans, but bombs.

Writing as vaguely as possible, you work you lip between your teeth as you eye Sylus from the edge of you laptop. How much can you say without really saying anything at all?

Time flies by with every word you type and every sip of coffee you take. It’s bitter today, but that’s exactly what you need to stay up and finish this report.

Speaking of which… What time is it anyway?

You spare a glance at the clock at the bottom of your screen.

2:32 AM!

You jolt awake and look around the café. Every other table is void of its usual occupant and their belongings.

Sylus lifts his eyes to your figure, noticing your unease, but continues to clean the teacup in his hands, “Do you need something, sweetie? Another cup, maybe?”

You stand up to gather your things, “No. I’m sorry.” You stuff your laptop in your bag, “I didn’t realise how late it was, I-”

He only flashes you a smile, “I don’t mind.” He averts his gaze for a moment, “I have nothing scheduled for tonight, and… and I don’t mind the company.”

You’re frozen in place unsure if he was being courteous or if you were imposing.

Sensing the conflict in your head, he waves his hand and shakes his head, “Sit down,” He walks over to your table and picks up your empty cup, “I’ll make you another drink. You don’t seem to be finishing up any time soon anyways.”

“No, no.” You wave both of your hands in front of you, “I couldn’t. I’m already overstepping my bounds.”

“I insist, kitten.”

Hesitantly, you slot yourself back into the booth and say, “I don’t think I have it in me to finish that report today.” you scratch at your cheek.

“Then, at least stay until I’ve made you another drink.” He’s back behind the counter and shoots you another smile that has your stomach doing backflips, “What will it be, sweetheart?”

“Hot chocolate?” You tilt you head a little.

“Mmmm.” He hums, “Whatever my dearest customer wants, she gets. A warm cup of cocoa to stave of a snowy night, coming right up.” He chimes and the coffee machine whirs to life again.

Shortly after, as you’ve warmed your cold hands against the mug, Luke and Kieran waltz through the entrance.

You glance at the clock - 2:54 AM.

When your eyes return to the two boys, they seem just as shocked as you are that anyone else was still here.

You lift the mug up to acknowledge them and they simply smirk.

“Late night, miss hunter?” One of them says, you’re not quite sure who is who.

You simply hum in response and take another sip of the hot chocolate.

Luke and Kieran make their way to the back as usual, and before they return with the ‘coffee beans’, you’ve emptied your cup and left the shop.

When Sylus leads the twins out (only so they don’t harass you more than you can tolerate) he notices the empty table.

“A special drink for a special lady so late at night, boss man?” Kieran asks.

“Did we interrupt a romantic rendezvous in the middle of the night, boss man?” Luke wiggles his eyebrows.

Sylus merely shakes his head, “Get out of here before I send Mephisto to end the both of you.” He says as he clears your table. Although his voice is dripping in malice, his eyes are soft as he reads the little note you left.

Thank you for the hot chocolate. Sorry for staying so late, I’ll make it up to you. -MC

❖· ────── ·

It wasn’t for another ten days did you make it up to him. Not that anyone was counting…

You felt a little guilty albeit a little flattered by how sweetly he was treating you. But also confused…Does he like you? Is he being nice? Does he do this for others? Is it a ruse with underhanded motives?

Honestly, it’s all so confusing. From how sweetly he was treating you, to the shady deals going on in that dainty little coffee shop. You really don’t know what to believe anymore.

You thought maybe if you stopped visiting for a little while, everything would clear itself up. But the more you restrained yourself, the more thoughts of him surfaced.

With an exasperated huff, you convinced yourself that you were just having caffeine withdrawals and none of the other coffee shops in Linkon satisfied you like the small coffee shop at the edge of Bloomshore. Definitely, the coffee and not the barista… the coffee.

…

When you shuffle into the coffee shop, it busier than usual. So much so that Sylus hasn’t even realised that you’re here.

Why would he though? I’m just like any other customer getting a drink.

You let out a breath. For whatever reason, your traitorous heart is pounding away. By the time you get to the counter you heartbeat is in your ears and you can barely hear yourself say, “One house special, please.”

At your voice, Sylus’ head fwips up from where his hands were holding a milk jug to the coffee machine, “I though my little hunter was injured, or that I was too forward.” he sends you a smile that makes your heart race a little faster.

“Sorry, I was… I was busy.” You avert your gaze and begin to reach into you bag, “I do have something to give you. A little thank you gift, if you will.” You pass a little mug set over the counter.

He quickly wipes his hands on a dish cloth and receives your gift. He opens the set and smirks.

Your brows furrow, “What?” What could he possibly find amusing?

He looks into the mug and reads, “I love you a latte?”

“Huh?” You lean over the counter and grab the mug from his hands. Just as he read, the words “I love you a latte” are printed at the bottom of the mug.

You stare at it, baffled as heat rises to your cheeks “I-”

He chuckles, “This one says, ‘mugs and kisses’.” He looks back at you, “Are you trying to tell me something, sweetie.”

“No! I didn’t know they had those printed at the bottom! I just liked the designs at the front!” You’re leaning over the counter reaching for the mugs.

“You’re more forward than me it seems.”

“Just…just give them back to me, I can return them and get you something else.”

He pulls the both mugs further away from the counter and above his head, “I can’t. This your first gift to me, kitten.” He holds them to his chest, “It would be a waste to return them now.”

“No, Sylus, I’m serious.”

“And so am I.” He places the mugs on one of the shelves and turns back to you, “Now go sit down, I’ll bring your drink once it’s ready.”

With your head in your hands you take your usual seat.

❖· ────── ·

Your mind spent half the day replaying the events from this morning, so now you’re only a fifth of the way through your report.

You groan and plop your forehead on the table with a thud. You turn your head to the side and rest it atop your hands.

Most of the other customers have left for the night, and Sylus is finishing up, cleaning all his equipment.

Shortly after, he walks over with two take away cups in hand. He’s donned his long black coat and a scarf. “Come,” He says, “You need a break, let me take you somewhere.” He nods to the entrance.

You raise a brow at him, “You’re not taking me somewhere to kill me, are you?” You joke as you gather your things, “I know how to fight, you know?” you add with a chuckle.

“Oh? Shall I take you to spar then, miss hunter?” He says as he hands you the drinks.

With both of your hands occupied, he takes the opportunity to wrap his scarf around your neck. He ties it up and tidies the edges so that your neck is fully covered. Leaning back a little he admires his work with a chuckle and flicks your forehead.

“Hey!”

“Let’s go.” He guides you with a hand at the small of your back.

After a short walk, he opens the car door for you with his other hand at the roof of the car so you don’t bump your head.

You mumble a quick “Thank you.” and adjust yourself in the seat as he walks around to the driver’s side.

When the car rumbles to life and he begins to drive, you ask, “Are one of these for me?”

He gives you a quick glance and can’t resist teasing you with the way your eyes sparkle at the drinks.

“Of course, but you’ll have to guess which one.”

“Mmm.” You take a sip of one of the cups but shake your head as intense bitterness bites at your tongue, “Bleghh. How many shots did you put in this?”

He stifles a laugh with his hand, “Cute.” He mumbles.

…

When you exit the car, he guides you towards a bridge overlooking the city and the river.

in the middle of the bridge, he leads you to a railing and leans against it with his drink in his hands.

“You’re not going to jump, are you?” You tease.

He scoffs, but adjusts your scarf to cover your nose and ears that have gone red from the cold.

“Well, now how am I supposed to drink this cocoa with my mouth covered, Sylus?”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out, kitten.”

I think this one turned out a little cuter than I expected, but I love it either way hahaha. I hope you enjoyed! ✧(˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

-Seven

|| Masterlist ||

57 notes · View notes

jonathandavisreal · 2 days ago

Text

Like A Whore | Leon x Fem!Reader | 🪦🕊️ MDNI

Pairing ❤ Leon x Fem!Reader

Tags | Warnings ❤ DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT! MDNI! Extreme Dubcon, Drugging, Intoxication, Dad/Daughter Incest, Vomiting, Self-worth Issues

Summary ❤ Abandoned by Mommy but at least you still have your Daddy to love you.

Wordcount ❤ 3591 Words

Anders yaps ❤ It's finally here! I'm so sorry I got so sidetracked by other fics!! I hope you guys enjoy!! Not edited because who give a shit.

AO3 Link ❤

It’s a rough day to say the least when your mom dumps you on some dingy condo doorstep, saying it’s time you ‘spread your wings’ and that you ought to spend time with a dad you’ve never met.

With a shaking hand you ring the bell, stomach doing flips and all you want to do is bolt off into the woods and never be seen again. Approaching footsteps just brings a bitter taste to your mouth and you want to vomit from nerves as the door is pulled open, your supposed father is thumbing through his wallet until he realises you aren’t the Chinese he ordered.

His deer in the headlights look matches your own and his lips purse and it feels like an eternity as you stare at each other. He has to know, that has to be the only reason he’s staring at you like that.

“Hi,” is the only thing you can squeak out and with it comes another bubble of anxiety.

The man sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose and moves out of the doorway, “Knew this day would come. Shit, come in kid.” He gestures you inside and you slip past, bag in tow.

You keep your head low and look at the dusty floor as he leads you into his living room. You take a seat beside him on the couch. You can’t bring yourself to make eye contact let alone look in his direction.

His hands clap together and it makes you flinch. There’s a thick and heavy tension in the air, the silence starts to feel suffocating until Leon opens his mouth after what feels like an eternity “So…” he trails off and once more he sighs and stares at the floor “I know who you are- Well, I can guess. Y’look like her y’know?”

You nod and pick and pinch at the meat of your palm anxiously, “I’m sorry… She got like… Sick of me I guess.”

With a suck of his teeth, Leon nods. Your mother was as flighty as he was, hell it surprised him that she even kept you.

You told Leon you only needed somewhere to stay until you could find a job and a place of your own, the thought of being a burden sickens you. Mom got fed up and it was only a matter of time until he did too.

So you do your best. You cook. You clean. You fail. You tell your father he can't just live on takeout which makes him pout like a child only to burn a pan and set the smoke alarms off.

Leon ever so diligently cracks the windows and fans a dish towel at the alarm until it stops crying while you stand there frozen, awaiting the lecture and meltdown. Instead he wraps an arm around your shoulder and gently tips his head against yours, looking over the stove.

“Thanks for trying Kiddo. I woulda burnt the kitchen down so the apple fell… Close-ish I’d say,” there's a gentle lilt to Leon's voice and it makes your little rabbit heartbeat slow to a thud.

Days later you pull damp laundry from the washer and whine. Somewhere you've fucked up and not there's white shit all over your clothes.

That feeling begins to creep up your spine, spindly fingers curl along your scalp until it itches. Does the room feel hot or is it just you? You chew the inside of your cheek and just about bore holes in the wet laundry from how hard you're staring.

Another day another fuck up, at least it's just your clothes this time.

Leon's hand comes from nowhere and tussles your hair like an exorcism, chasing away the building panic.

“Maybe you used too much detergent?” You look at him and he smiles, “We’ll put ‘em on again.”

The itch subsides.

Another day and another string of rejection emails if you were lucky otherwise you were just straight up ghosted. Maybe you could go back to school but you were never good at academia to begin with and you don’t know if you could handle crashing and burning again.

Kicking off your shoes at the door way you couldn’t care less to stack them neatly. You make a beeline to the living room because all you want right now is to curl up on the couch and rot your brain until you can’t think. Your plans are dashed when you find Leon spread out on the couch, cheap bottles of premixed liquor scattered across the coffee table on either side of his feet perched on the edge. He’s watching some shitty B-movie, one probably made the decade you were born.

You slink into the room, shucking off your bag. There’s the all too familiar pit in your stomach as you prepare yourself to apologise and grovel but instead of a scowl Leon smiles. It’s a warmth you still struggle to understand.

“How’d it go Kiddo? Any luck?”

A lump forms and your lip begins to quiver. All you can do is shake your head and try to blink away the heavy tears threatening to boil over.

You feel about two feet tall, a miserable failure just like your mother said you were. Your thoughts start to hydroplane and spin out of control when you brace for Leon to chastise you. To threaten you. Tell you just how worthless you are and ask himself what’s the point in keeping you around if you can’t even find a job.

Maybe you can cook for him more often. Not that you’re good at it. You try to clean but you’re so clumsy you might just break another knick-knack.

“Hey Kid,” his voice snaps you back to reality and you see his knitted brows and those worried eyes. “C’mon, come here.”

Leon pats his lap and you eye him cautiously. He's never done anything like this and you feel so out of depth you don't know how to take it. You fidget on the spot and he begins to look a little embarrassed “C’mon Kid, I know I'm no good at this shit but humour an old man”

You sniffle and your shoulders relax slightly. You may as well soak up whatever fatherly bonding he's offering.

You crawl closer to him, at first sitting up stiffly before flopping to your side. You rest your head against Leon’s lap, not quite game to lean your whole weight on him. Heaven forbid you make his leg go to sleep.

He tangles his fingers in your hair, fingertips gently massage at your scalp and now you understand what it's like to be a dog. For a split second you make eye contact with Leon before swiftly shifting your gaze back to the TV.

Your cheeks feel hot and there's a warmth to your stomach.

Is this normal? Has this been what you've missed out on your whole life just because your mother wanted to be vindictive?

Soon enough you both get lost in the cheesy movie and the feeling of your scalp being rubbed helps fight back those tears. You'd kick your leg were you a dog but you might die of embarrassment first.

The movie ends and you don’t move a muscle and neither does Leon. His drink is long finished and you can only guess he’s eyeing off the others, coveting the condensation rolling down the glass.

“D’you want me to grab you another?” Your voice is soft and dreamy.

“Oh, sure. We can watch another movie if you want.”

You hum and feel greedy for wanting to soak up more of Leon’s time. You want more affection, more touch to fill the gaping hunger that you never really realised you had.

“I’d really like that.” Your words make him smile, his tired eyes wrinkle from it.

It’s the first time you’ve ever really asserted yourself and it feels odd. You’ve always just gone with the flow, minimised yourself so as to not be a bother.

You can see when the thought pops into his head and he drums his fingers against your shoulder excitedly, “How about you make some popcorn and I'll find us something to watch?”

“Sounds fun.” You say

You manage to tear yourself from Leon’s lap to balance yourself on one hand and lean forward and grab another drink. You study the label for a second, it’s sweet and fruity and definitely not something he’d normally drink.

It’s like Leon can read your thoughts when he opens his mouth to speak, “It was cheap,” makes sense you think, “Wanna try it?” You retreat back onto the couch, sitting upright and you shoot Leon a look.

“Are you sure?”

He laughs.

“You’re an adult, you can do whatever you want.”

You feel like an idiot. Of course he’s right.

Leon leans forward and ends up grabbing himself a drink, twisting the cap off as he settles back. Flicking the cap with a thumb, it lands on the coffee table and as it finishes rolling you make your decision.

You twist your own cap off and Leon holds his bottle out with a smile. You smile back and clink the bottles together.

You take a swig and Leon just observes when your face scrunches up when the almost sickly sweet liquid hits your mouth. The burn in your throat makes you want to cough but you fight through.

It’s like the syrupy sweetness clings to your taste buds and your mouth waters for more. Another sip becomes two, and then three.

There’s a flare of embarrassment when you take another look at your father, there’s a strange expression on his face and you have trouble trying to parse it.

Adoration.

That’s what it is.

It feels like the air is sucked out of the room as you lower the bottle, your cheeks feel hot and red and you aren’t sure if it’s the booze or embarrassment. Definitely both.

“Didja like that?”

You nod bashfully and Leon’s eyes crinkle from his smile and it sinks in just how beautiful they are. “Knew you would, you’re always eating those lil fruit cups.”

“You got this for me?”

Leon hums a ‘yes’ as he wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you nice and close. You can smell his cologne mixed with the liquor and it makes your head swim. He smells good and for a moment you want to bury your face in his chest and inhale as deep as you could. But that would be shameful and weird. So you don’t.

“You need to loosen up y’know… ‘S not good to be so tense.”

Your heart thumps in your chest and you don’t know what to say so you take another sip and lean into Leon.

Leon’s fingertips circle soothingly over the skin of your shoulder. You relish in the sensation, bottle brought to your lips when you hum your own agreement.

Before you know it your bottle is empty and there’s a new one deposited into your hands.

“Are you feeling comfy Sweetheart?” The pet name makes your skin buzz and you shake your head, feeling a little dizzy from the sugar rush. “Aw, well why don’t you sit on my lap then…?” His words are warm and it sounds so enticing.

Leon doesn’t even wait for a response and pulls you up onto his lap, sighing when he buries his face into your shirt. His arm wraps around your waist, hand splayed out on your stomach.

There’s a sniff and another sigh, “Fuck… You smell so good Kiddo.” His fingertips tense on your stomach and it feels possessive and you love it.

Everything starts to sink into place, this is what it’s like to be loved. To be wanted. This was everything you were missing and your Dad was just the missing piece.

Leon’s pinkie strokes over the fabric of your shirt, daring to dip past the waistband of your pants and you become acutely aware of the heat in your stomach. The usual pit of anxiety that dwells within is in hibernation and it’s nothing but comfort for once.

Leon’s hand ventures further, the tip of his ring finger slips past the waistband and you spread your legs unconsciously.

“Can’t believe I had to wait this long…” Leon’s voice is softer than anything you’ve ever heard and you feel like you just might melt in his arms. “All mine, my perfect Babygirl.”

You finish off your drink, skin buzzing and head swimming. You thought of taking a bath with a toaster plenty of times before but this? This is cosy, makes life worth living.

Suddenly there’s a hand sneaking into your panties, a rough hand cups your pussy and all you do is whine. There’s a boneless quality to you right now and you feel like you couldn’t fight it even if you wanted to.

Leon’s nice to you. He’s the only man who has ever been nice to you. If you could do it you would give him the world in this moment. Finally shut that feeling of needing to repay him for good. None of the cooking or cleaning you did for him ever felt like enough.

There’s a part of you that feels sick but maybe it’s the booze. But maybe you’re nothing more than a complete and utter freak that lets her Dad touch her pussy and- and- and-

It dawns on you that you can feel his cock digging into the swell of your ass and it makes you crumble. You just might blow away in the breeze. Maybe you should.

Your hips rock experimentally and it causes Leon to his. He grinds the palm of his hand against your clit and you jolt. The sickness falters for a moment. Maybe this is what you’re good for, maybe if you give every bit of yourself to Leon- To Dad… Maybe he won’t abandon you too.

“Wan’ you to bend over for Daddy…” Leon’s words are slurred and heavy. He pushes you forward and you go with the flow. He eases you off his lap, down to the floor to settle in front of the coffee table. He sweeps his empties out of the way, not a care in the world when they tumble and roll on their side.

You get pushed down against the cold glass, chest flush against it and it soothes the growing warmth. You turn your head to the side and savour the feeling of it against your cheek.

Leon slips down behind you, his shitty loveseat squeals against the floor as it gets pushed back. There are hands pawing at you as Leon looms over you, head half-buried in the crook of your neck and all you can smell is the sickly sweet alcohol on his breath.

Words don’t come to you and the heat of the moment catches up to you, it feels like the room is spinning from the intoxication and from how much you want Leon. Your pussy throbs when his hips buck against yours and he whispers something you can’t quite catch.

Wandering hands come to rest when he grunts out a ‘fuck’, pulling back upright to tug down his jeans, barely enough for his cock to spring out and prod against you. A bead of precum smears against your skin and you bite your lip when Leon slots back against your back, his weight oppressive and you feel like you've got no strength.

You feel like you're about to slide straight off the Earth and the only thing grounding you is Leon and his stubble on your neck, his hands that seem to grab you everywhere all at once and the dull throb of his cock rutting between your thighs.

There's an ache in you and a desire to do better, to do more. Maslow was so wrong that it makes you want to laugh, the base of your pyramid is so clearly dadcock but instead you just choke out a weak sound rather than an actual laugh.

Fingers find their way into your mouth, digits that feel way too big for your mouth scissor your teeth apart, rough pads stroke your tongue and you can barely feel the drool ooze out past your lips.

"Don't... Don't throw up," your dad's breath hitches in your ear and you wonder when he yanked your panties down, the tip of his dick pressed against you, "Gonna be... Gonna be real gentle Sweetheart. Dad- Daddy promises..."

There’s a ghost of a feeling there, like you should hate the idea of him hurting you but it’s all you feel good enough for. A broken porcelain little doll for him to grip by dainty ankles and let swing at the wall until you shatter.

He slams his hips into yours unceremoniously but you feel angels sing. There’s a burn in your pussy but your arms don’t cooperate when you try to lift them to feel if there’s blood so you choke around thick fingers and your arms stay limp against the table.

He groans pathetically, it’s been a long dry spell because women Leon’s age see him for the loser he is and dumb little cunts like you are his only source of pussy.

But you gotta be real dumb to fall for him.

He swings his hips and it burns even more, your eyes start to roll back and your vision is spotty.

You wanna stay awake for him, to make daddy proud.

Leon’s hips pump into yours desperately with no real sense of rhythm, this is for him and not you. You grunt and it’s ugly and inelegant like everything else about you. Had to get your virginity stolen by a man who should’ve raised you because you couldn’t attract a real man.

The room keeps spinning and spinning and you half expect Pat Sajak to walk into the room. You try to laugh again at the idea but it just comes out again like a wet choke that makes you realize how sticky your skin feels from all the drool.

The edge of the coffee table digs into you with each thrust and your skin starts to prickle from Leon’s facial hair.

Your eyes fall shut and when they open you’ve been rolled over at some point. Your limbs still feel like lead slowly sinking into the ocean but you get to see Leon now. You can’t feel much except fire and static but he’s got your legs up on his shoulders and he’s sweating like a pig from exertion.

There’s blood smeared over your thighs and there’s the beginnings of bruises blooming and you wonder how long this has been going on for.

Your eyes roll shut but you can hear Leon’s grunting and slap of his balls against your ass for just a moment longer before you slip back into the darkness like a winter blanket.

“Daddy’s so sorry…”

The words bring you back and you fight to open your eyes just in time for you to see Leon beside you, frantically jerking his cock and you wonder what it’d be like for him to punch your lights out.

Then there’s warmth on your face and a satisfied grunt.

He prods his cock against your lips, smearing cum over them like the world’s worst lipgloss.

He could’ve asked and you would have gladly spent all day sucking his cock. Wouldn’t need a job then.

He sighs after god knows how long and pats your cheek, feels like there’s water filling your ears but you think he asks you if you’re still there.

Instead of words there’s only vomit.

He curses and recoils back on his knees as you empty the sickly sweet liquor onto his hardwood floors.

You’d be ashamed if you could think of anything other than cleaning his dick.

Another curse and another bout of darkness and you feel cold water beating down on your head and freezing tiles against your face.

“I’m gonna come back… Don’t- Don’t vomit again.”

There’s an exasperation in Leon’s voice and that’s when you feel that shame.

You want to throw up again, your stomach hurts and your pussy hurts more. So you try to take deep breaths to steady your guts but the water just makes you want to shudder.

Sudden warmth makes you realise you’ve thrown up again. Acid burns the inside of your nose and your mouth tastes bitter and wretched.

You aren’t sure if you’re crying or if it’s water running down your face but either way you feel like crying. First Mommy doesn’t want you, men don’t want you and now Daddy won’t want an ugly girl who throws up on herself.

“Jesus Christ you’re a mess.”

It’s like Leon materialised out of nowhere to make you feel even more guilt but you can’t run and hide nor can you apologise. Instead you start to slump forward in the tub with a cry that trails into nothingness.

When you awake you still feel sick, your stomach feels painfully empty and unsettled and your head pounds. But the room is nice and dark, the only light is an alarm clock that reads 3:07AM in red blocks and you feel cosy and warm.

Leon’s pressed up against your back, arms wrapped around you nice and tight to stop you from rolling over and choking on your own vomit. The shirt is his so he can’t be too mad. You feel like a Daddy’s girl and you’ll do anything to make sure he keeps loving you.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #resident evil x you #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #resident evil fanfiction #🍖 resident evil #🍖 anders writes #🍖 dead dove #🍖 incest

22 notes · View notes

imabiscuitinthousandworlds · 8 months ago

Text

sometimes..so.etimes they change something even after the premiere. sp you appear and watch an entirely new and prolonged monologue. and it's like. FUCK YEAH.

#me showing up at the theatre: be normal be normal be normal be normal be no #me realising they added some things and it adds a lot of characerisation: BE NORMAL BE NORMAL BE NORMAL BE NORMAL BE NORMAL BE NORMAL!!!!!#(misson failed but at least i was Quiet lmao)#the fun thing about seeing this several times tho is that by now ive stopped trying to figure out the plot #bc i Know the plot by now and i can speak along to a decent portion of lines #so now i focus not on what they mean but what exactly they say in any moment #i notice all the small irrelevant lines that still add so much to the characters voices and dynamics #its sooooo fun #and sometimes its also just really funny #'hell do good' 'didnt you just talk to him? the fuck he will. that man cant even pretend to have any self control'#i mean she was RIGHT #my man is out here being such a miserable little fuck being dramatic about his problems #if he could get a grip on himself for like five minutes everyone could have lived! idiot <3 #AND THE OTHER GUY #if you had just KEPT AWAY instead of Walking Up To Your Murderer and distracred them for like. a few minutes longer IT WOULD ZAVE WORKED #like yeah youd still be dead BUT THAT WAS THE POINT WASNT IT #LIKE THIS YOU JUST DIED FOE NOTHING #YOUE BUDDY DIES TOO BC YOU GOT YOURSELF MURDERED TOO SOON. idiot #ill be honest. if they had kissed (and if youd seen rhe way they LOOK at each other) things might have actually gone well #im convinced of this #i have Textual Evidence #anyway. i should read the og play and find out if its the play or just the actors #like do the characters actually constantly refer to each other as 'my [name/title]' or did the theatre make it even gayer themselves #ik the actors are doing it on purpose anyway. that is Not coincidence #a biscuit's rambles

3 notes · View notes

psycheandmind · 2 months ago

Text

How to GENUINELY create an assumption without feeling like you’re lying to yourself/pretending/have to “convince” yourself. How to actually accept your desire as TRUE.

Please, please understand that an assumption isn't forced or something you have to "try" to believe because it's just something you accept as true without question. You don't wake up every day wondering if you have a name, if the sky is blue or if gravity works. You just know with certainty. That's how conscious manifestation works. You decide something IS true and of course it reflects like every other assumption. You need to ACTUALLY assume you have something to get it please don't pretend or hope. A real assumption isn't forced, it's something you accept as fact without needing proof. If you say you assumed something but then claim it didn't happen you didn't actually assume it lol. You either doubted it, contradicted it or held another assumption alongside it. You assuming is NOT a technique and it's not something you "do" to get something.

The reason some people treat creating an assumption like it's a technique is because they think if they repeat it enough their mind will suddenly be tricked into believing it. That's NOT how an assumption works. An assumption is just accepting something as fact. If you're trying to "convince" yourself you're admitting you don't actually accept it as true. Come on… your mind is not stupid. It knows when you're forcing something versus when you genuinely accept it as reality (assume it). You need to be so certain that questioning isn't even an option and idc if other people disagree because who questions an assumption? An assumption is something you accept as true without proof go search it up. You must stay firm. It's not hoping, testing or checking for results it's about knowing aka accepting it as a fact. When you truly assume something it becomes your reality instantly. Reality will always reflect your truth.

So how do you truly accept something as true? It's actually simple but people overlook because they think taking time to face what's holding them down will waste their time. It's better to find out why you're finding it difficult and address it instead of staying stuck in a loop forever.

You need to find out what is preventing you from accepting your own word as the truth. Why don't you trust your own word as a fact? If you tell yourself "I have my desire" but deep down you're doubting or waiting or looking for proof then ask yourself "why don't I trust myself?" What thoughts are making you second guess your own reality? Is it because you're treating the physical world as more real than your own assumptions? Is it because you think that the physical world is the reason why you think you don't have what you want, when in reality it's because you assumed it first for it to reflect? Did you forget that reality is a mirror of your assumptions? Could it be you're looking at your circumstances and saying ughhh this is what's happening instead of actually understanding that what's happening is just a reflection of what you have been assuming up until this moment? Or maybe you've placed your power outside of yourself right? You believe circumstances or external factors hold weight in your manifestation rather than realising that NOTHING is set in stone and the only thing dictating your reality is your current assumption right? Maybe you think you have to do something and this is far too simple?

Figure it out and actually just spend time with yourself to pin point where you are struggling. Stop running away from your problems and address the reason why you can't accept your word as the truth. Remind yourself of the basics of the Law if you need to.

Now ask yourself what are you ACTUALLY assuming? Look at you telling yourself "Oh I'm affirming for my SP" and that being reflected back: you affirming for your SP. Look at you treating the concept of "just decide" like another method or technique to get to your desire and that being reflected in your reality: you in the process of using "just decide" like a technique to manifest. See how perfect the Law is? It's reflecting exactly what you're assuming. You're seeing your assumptions play out exactly as they are because manifestation is always based on what you're ACTUALLY assuming. You're STILL giving options to reality when there are no options… it's only what you say it is. As soon as you drop the debate you have with yourself in your mind and stop entertaining opposing thoughts you'll see how easy it is. You don't argue with yourself about basic facts of your life do you? You just accept them as true. That's exactly how you need to see your assumptions. Yes you need to be that certain and firm.

I PROMISE you the "key" everyone talks about to getting what you want… repeat with me… is to decide once and for all that it's done and that's it. Just accept it as true. Please just say f*ck all and accept it as true. What will you lose? Just do it.

#law of assumption #manifestation #conscious manifestation #conscious mind #manifesting #loa success #loassumption #reality shifting #shifting #desired reality #loa blog #subliminals #master manifestor #void state #loass

4K notes · View notes

trainsinanime · 1 year ago

Text

I wonder: Do Americans know about american school buses? Not their existence in general, but how they're seen overseas.

Over here, they're one of the symbols of America, on par with the Statue of Liberty, the flag, the Eagle, and well ahead of any chain restaurant you can name. People won't know any US states, but they will know these vehicles.

The thing is, here in Germany, we don't have dedicated school buses. The general idea is that kids go to school on their own. When that's not practical, they're expected to use (and given free tickets for) public transit. Public transit is designed around this requirement; there are many places where there is a bus, and anyone can get on it, but the route and timetable really only makes sense for school children. In case a dedicated school bus is really needed, that's generally subcontracted out, and the lines either use something like a Sprinter Van for smaller routes, or a normal city or interurban bus (often a used one that's a bit older). School trips are normal public transit, or a rented bus, typically a coach or regional bus.

It's not a perfect system, in the past couple of years there's been an epidemic of people bringing their kids to school in their cars instead of letting them walk, which is less than ideal. It is what it is. But building a dedicated network of public transit lines only for students, and building dedicated vehicles only for that, has never occurred to anyone here.

Of course we know about these buses, from movies and such, but they're as foreign here as cacti or pick-up trucks (actually we're seeing more and more of these here) or yellow cabs (all europeans will assume all cabs in the US are yellow until they actually visit).

You do see these buses here at times, because people still generally like the idea of the US, even if they have a lot of issues with a lot of details, and so folks bring them over, along with stretch limos and stuff (also not really a thing here). And of course, if someone goes to all that trouble, they don't do it to haul school kids, they rent it out for city tours or as a party bus or whatever.

So you see these yellow things as a symbol of faraway places, scenic vistas, some vague undefined idea of freedom that doesn't necessarily hold up to any contact with reality, and it's just a huge part of the whole US aesthetic.

And then you go to a student exchange with the US, and you finally get the chance: You yourself get to ride in one of these iconic chrome yellow buses! It looks just like in the movies! You get in, you drive in them a little…

…and you realise they're shit. Just the worst buses in the western world. Terrible suspension. Uncomfortable seats with weirdly high backs (so they don't have to put seatbelts in, they just restrict how far kids can fly in an accident). Everything made out of the cheapest materials. Turns out the reason why the US uses school buses like that instead of normal modern city buses, which the US has, is to save money and because they just hate kids.

And then it hits you why US Americans say "as American as apple pie", a dish that is made and enjoyed literally anywhere in the world, instead of "as American as yellow school buses". Of course the Americans already knew all this. They got tortured by these things forever. It would never occur to them to see this as a symbol of America, it's just a normal part of life for them. It's a symbol of school and school life and sometimes normalcy, and tells us that these actors getting out of it are supposed to be teenagers, nothing more.

But most people in Europe have, of course, never ridden on these buses. So when they see them in movies and TV, that's a giant big yellow signifier that we're not in Hessen or Wallonia or wherever anymore. A symbol of a different world, one that may be at most a once-in-a-lifetime-experience for most people, just like a picture of a tropical beach, Mayan Pyramids, the Great Wall of China, or Hildesheim (there's no reason to go there twice). And I think Americans don't know that, and that's fascinating.

#bus #buses #school bus

18K notes · View notes

hislittlesparklejumpropequeen · 5 months ago

Text

Watching you

Hwang In-ho x female!reader.

Summary: In-ho sees you and his brain chemistry changes. A/N: in reader’s pov he’s referred as Young il. Sorry if it’s confusing. Warnings: Obsessive and possessive behaviour, masturbation, stalking, perverted opinions, murder, blood, kissing, mentions of arousal, mentally and physically vulnerable characters, dubious consent, non-con touching, manipulation, sadism, dacryphilia

W/c: 3,5k

It was strange that he kept his eyes on you more than anyone in the games. The moment he saw your shaking figure among the crowd of people in the green suits, he felt his breath get stuck in his throat. You were looking around with eyes that were full of fear, hands wrapped around yourself and holding back tears as others started an argument in the middle. You listened as someone complained about his shoes being so expensive, and someone asking for his phone, an old lady argue with her son and guards answering the players’s questions with patience.

He kept his eyes on you as the first game started. He saw your eyes widen when someone was shot right in front of you, and he watched you as you realise the seriousness of the game you accepted to take part in. Gi-hun was interesting to him, yes. He was searching for them, for him have been for years now. And he was brave enough to come back to the games just to find who was behind them. He respected his determination. Yet there was something about you that he could not name. Something captivating. Something that shifted things in him, made his skin sting in ecstasy as you nearly moved when the doll turned around. You looked around with those innocent eyes and blood of someone flowing down your cheek, he felt his trouser tighten. A small, tingly sensation took over his loins and made him frown in confusion. He had never taken a liking to a someone, let alone a little, fragile thing like you.

When he found the video of you playing ddajki with the recruiter, he felt himself get harder and harder as he watched you spill tears in pain every single time you received a hard slap on your cheek. The camera captured the noises you made as your body was falling backwards with every single slap. The recruiter hit you hard and In-ho wandered if you would sound the same when he pounded you hard on his bed. He took his mask off and palmed himself trough his trouser as he kept replaying the video over and over again. When he was finished spilling his seed into his palm, he wished that was your mouth wrapped around his tip instead.

When the first game finished and your number and picture still shone bright on the floor, you voted for ‘X’ and expected everyone to vote same as you. Yet you were so wrong when the last player 001 and all others voted ‘O’, causing all of you to stay in this hellhole. You felt tears fill your eyes as some people were cheering with victory in front of you. You sat down on one of the beds at the front and hugged your legs with disappointment. As you were thinking what was going to happen next, you felt someone sit next to you.

“I’m sorry, I thought staying was the best option.” Said the man who was looking at you, watching your tears flow down your flushed cheeks. You looked at his number and saw 001 in bright white font. He was the person who voted last and made the decision. You sighed and shook your head.

“It is not only you, sir. Half of us wanted to stay.” You said as you pointed at the people who had the ‘O’ banners on their right side. He did not look at the direction you were pointing at, he kept his eyes on. You were so pretty when you cried. He wandered how beautiful you would look when you were overstimulated with his fingers in you. He felt his cock twicth when you looked at him again. Your lips were plump, and the tip of your nose was red. He wandered how your tears would taste like.

“We have a winner here. I thought we could use this for our advantage.” He explained as he pointed at Gi-hun who looked very troubled not so far away from you. Your eyes were on the last winner when you felt the man beside you stand up and take few steps towards the player 456. Yet he stopped mid way and looked back at you, as if he was waiting for you to follow him. And for some reason you wiped your tears away and followed him like a lost puppy as he walked towards the previous winner of the games who was already accompanied by few guys who kept asking him questions.

And the small group was formed with two of you joining them. You did not know much about others, did not trust them meanwhile player 001 was confident and comfortable talking to them. When he sat down next to Gi-hun, his eyes pointed at the small space next to his feet, so you sat down there. Being close to him brought you a sense of safety. He was the first person who approached you in this mess of a place with kindness. You did not know him, didn’t know his name or why he was here. Yet there was a look in his eyes that made you want to stick beside him.

When everyone went to sleep, In-ho looked at your resting form. You were wrapped in the thin blanket and was curled up into a ball. He looked at your curves that were visible from the tracksuit, his mouth watered. You were so frightened and powerless. You needed someone to protect you in the games. Someone who would look after you, make sure you make it alive. He knew what humans were capable of doing in a place like this. People were going to go mad and hurt one another viciously. Would he be able to just stand and watch if you got hurt?

Your soft whimpers and cries brought him back to reality. When you woke up from your few hours of sleep drenched in sweat and tears flowing down your cheeks, he crawled to you, in the darkness of the hall. He reached out to you, from the metal bars of the beds, and held your shoulder. You squirmed in fear and was about to scream until a large hand covered your mouth.

“It’s me.” He whispered to your ear as his whole body was pressed against your back, other arm wrapped around your shoulders. He was towering over you, as you felt sweat drops make their way to your neck from your temple.

He let go of your mouth, but his touch did not leave your body when he moved to sit next to you. He was close, his breath hitting your face and neck when he looked at you with observing eyes that did not give any feelings away. His touch made your heart beat fast and quicken your breaths, yet you did not want him to stop holding you.

“Bad dream?” He whispered, his voice is low yet deep enough to make your insides shake. You nodded when tears filled your eyes again. The images of dead bodies all over the playground haunted you since the moment you came back from the game as winners. You didn’t want to cry in front of anyone, but you felt like he would not mind seeing you cry.

He nodded along with you, almost like a grown up talking to a little kid and mirror her moves to befriend her. When he saw your bottom lip tremble and eyes full of fear scan the hall of people sleeping, he felt his loins burn in need. The face you made when you were scared and felt alone was enough to make him cum in his underwear without any touch.

Without hesitation he brought your body closer to his own and his arms embraced your shaking form with mercy. You buried your face into the crook of his neck and wrapped your smaller arms around his waist. He was warm. Very warm that you felt your fingertips burn over his body. When you breathed in and out in the crook of his neck, all In-ho wanted to do was throw your body back into the bed, rip those clothes off of you and ravage you in front of dozens of people without any care. The though of fucking you, turning you into mass in front of them, giving them a show as he claimed you, sent shivers down his spine.

“I’m so scared,” you whispered, your crying voice reaching his ear as he tried to hold back a smile at your situation. You were so helpless that you were crying in the arms of the man who was the reason why you were still here. He was a stranger, who had the potential to do anything. Yet here you were, quivering against his chest and making his member throb in need.

“I’m here.” He said. And you had no chance but trusting him.

———————

The next game you were automatically given the Gong-gi game as the only female in the group. Yet your hands were shaking when it was your turns to play after player 390 completed his part successfully. When you missed two times, you were so sure you were going to die and worse, be the reason for everyone’s death in your group.

He watched you panick, drop the pebbles and fail to catch them midair. Everyone around you was getting inpatient and scared naturally. Even tho he loved the way you were struggling and feeding into his twisted desire, he could not let you die. He held your waist and stopped the trembling of your body. You looked at him under your lashes that were wet with your tears and went back to work once he gave you a reassuring smile. With that you managed to catch all the pebbles in your palm and passed the round.

It was then, you felt something was off, when it was his turn to play his own game. The top kept slipping from his hands or landed wrong on the floor that was covered in the blood of eliminated players. You wanted to step back yet could not because of the ties when he started to scream in anger and slap himself. There was a crazy, off-putting look in his eyes. It was less uncomfortable when he was looking at you, yet it was still there. His eyes made your skin crawl and stomach twist in sickness. You did feel safe around him. But not like you would feel safe with a family member, a friend, or a lover. It felt like he was a wolf who claimed a lamb, kept her on his chest and waited for right moment to eat her.

When your group managed to survive and go back to the hall, he kept to you close. His hand was on your back, leading you to your bed. When it was mealtime, he gave half of his food to you, telling you to not to worry about him when you tried to reject him. He watched you until you finished all your food. After all of you exchanged names, he watched you talk to player 388 about his time in marine and watch you laugh when he was talking excitedly, telling everyone how prideful he was about his military service. He watched your tears dry up as you listened to the conversation that was flowing in the group. Your smile made his stomach twist and his jaw clench.

Your hopes once again were shattered when people voted for “O” more than “X” and decided to continue playing the games. Young-il wiped your tears away and convinced you to get some sleep for the night. You could only relax and fall asleep when he sat next to you on your bed and caressed your head as he decided to stay awake. He looked extraordinarily strong to you. He did not need to sleep, gave his food to others, calm people down when everyone was scared, raged and pass the games like it was nothing. Most importantly, he held you close no matter what. Did not mind you cry and fail and fall. Maybe it was a sense of guilt he felt, for making you stay in the first round of voting, you thought.

——————

Next morning he held your hand when everyone was taken to the new game. It was mingle. Your group had decided to stay together. You were grateful that they had take you in and did not leave you alone. You all took your place on the platform and started to spin as the song was playing. You felt his hand get tighter around yours, reminding you that he was here with you.

You ran as fast as you can and took deep breaths when all 10 of you finally managed to get into a room. The sound of lock made you jump slightly. You saw Young il’s eyes on Gi-hun as he pulled you under his arm. The images of him looking at Gi-hun since the moment you met him lingered on your mind until the woman who claimed to be a shaman started to speak loudly in the middle of the room. As you waited for gunshots to stop and doors to open, you could not help but wonder the reason behind Young il’s weird behaviour about Gi-hun. He seemed to get along with him. Seemed to respect his ideas and experiences about this place. They seemed to understand one another, somehow. Yet that unexplainable look in 001 eyes was making you shift uncomfortably in your place.

Until last round, you had no chance but sticking beside Young il. As you entered rooms and people kept dying outside, you became more paranoid. And when it came to the last round, Jeong-bae asked how many people it was going to be this time. Without hesitation Young-il answered.

“2.” And it was it. When the song stopped and the platform stopped spinning, Young il held your hand tighter than before, and started to run to closest room. As you were trying to catch up with his pace, someone bumped into you, causing you to lose your balance and stumble midway. Young il turned around immediately and wrapped his arms around your waist. He lifted you like a piece of feather and made his way to the yellow door that was already opened by a guy. Young il pushed you into the room and threw the other guy away from the door. When you scanned the room, your eyes were met with pair of foreign eyes.

“Out.” Young il said sharply to the other man in the room.

“We were here first.” The man said, his voice cracking as he was shaking in fear. Person behind the door tried to open it. You pushed your back against the door and held it with all of your strength. There was not much time left, and you were afraid that all of you were going die in this room.

Young il grabbed the man and locked his arms around his head. As they scooped to the floor, his arms got tighter around the player 343’s neck. You were still holding the door and preventing the other player to get in. For a second Young il’s intense gaze met with yours and you couldn’t look away.

He looked into your eyes, showing no emotion or weakness as the man he was choking started to turn purple. Your breath got stuck in your throat, your knees were shaking, and your palms were getting sweaty with the scene taking place in front of you. As there were few seconds left for the countdown, Young il twisted the man’s neck. The sound of bone cracking filled the room along with the sound of door locking behind you. He kept his eyes on you, as he tossed the dead body of the side.

The lifeless body of player 343 laid on the ground and the gunshots filled your ear. The screams of people scratched your brain, and you finally managed to close your eyes. He had killed someone in front of you, broke his neck with one swift motion and he had no emotion on his face as he did it. Your heart was beating so fast that you thought it was going to fail at some point. Then the images of him came to your mind. When he knocked down player 124 and 230 as he looked down at them with those emotionless eyes, when he carelessly slapped himself in the second game, when he looked at Gi-hun as if he wanted to strangle him when he thought no one was looking, when he pushed everyone out of his way to get both of you to safety during the mingle game and now when he killed someone.

“Open your eyes.” He breathed out, his breath hitting your face. Suddenly you felt his warmth surrounding you and him towering over your head. You slowly opened your eyes and there he was. Looking down at you, his eyebrows lifted up and with a mocking look in his eyes. His face was close to yours. Yet it did not feel comforting and safe like it did a night ago, when he was comforting you after a nightmare.

“What did you do?” Your voice was shaky and sounded terrified as you tried to look at the dead body that was in the corner of the room. He did not let you look away with his fingers finding your chin and holding it tight. He held you with those hands that just took the life of someone. You felt chills going down your spine.

“I made sure that we survived.” He whispered without breaking eye contact with you. You could hear soldiers cleaning up the mess outside of the rooms.

“You killed him.” You tried to shake his touch away, yet he didn’t let you. Instead, he got closer, until you were trapped between him and the door. His hot breath made your skin tingle, and his touch made you wanna cry.

“Yes.” He said, and his lips touched your cheek that was wetted by your tears. His lips planted a soft kiss onto your skin. The kiss made you feel dizzy and your knees weak.

“For you.” He continued. His words made you freeze in your spot. His lips traced over your skin like a ghost and reached the corner of your lips. “Only for you” He kissed the side of your mouth, softly, gently, with mercy. You wanted to rip his hands off of you, and run away. The floor beneath your feet was slippery with the blood of eliminated players. If you slipped and fell, would he let you go?

“All for you.” His lips found your chin, then your nose, then your other cheek. He did not rush or hold you harsh enough to hurt. Yet knowing that he had just killed someone with those hands made you wanna throw up.

Your tears dropped to his lips, and he licked his lips as if he was dying over thirst. And when he made eye contact with you again, it was the first time you saw a clear human emotion in his eyes. An emotion he did not try to hide or was afraid to show; yearning. You did not know if it was for you or winning. In both cases, it terrified you to your very being.

“Stop!” You said as sobs filled your mouth and he pressed his forehead against yours hard. You felt him shake his head, his arms wrapping around your fragile, little body compared to his strong form.

“I will give you everything you want, you need.” He said and pressed his lips against yours. Without waiting, his tongue made his way into your mouth, forcing your lips to open up for him. You felt the dizzy feeling take over your head. Your ears were ringing, your mind was foggy as he kissed you harsh, deep. There was no power left in your body, so you just let yourself to his arms.

His teeth crushed against yours and he was biting every corner of your lips until he drew blood. The irony taste filled your senses, made you jump. You did not know if it was you bleeding or him. But there was blood everywhere. Covering your tongue, your lips and staining your chin as your shared spit escaped from the corner of your lips. You felt your body burn all over. Your back was arching like a cat to get any closer to him, and there was a soreness between your legs that made your clit throb. You felt shame fill you and guilt making you wanna cry out. Instead, you kept kissing him, devouring him, eating him as much as you could.

You whined and pushed your head towards him when he parted your kiss with the sound of lock. The door was opened. The third game was finished. There was still a dead man in the room. Your mouth was covered in blood, making you look like you just feasted on someone. And his eyes were on you, watching you.

#squid game #squid game 2 #front man #hwang in ho #young il #lee byung hun #frontman x reader #hwang in ho x reader #young il x reader #squid game x reader #squid game 2 x reader #blood and gore #he’s so daddy

6K notes · View notes

blank-potato · 25 days ago

Text

that's what i like

Pairing: Bob Reynolds x Reader

Summary:

It's impossible to teach when you’re hopelessly, irreversibly, maddeningly in love with the one you’re training. “So what now?” he asks, rolling up his sleeves. Big mistake. Huge mistake. Because now you’re at serious risk of going into full cardiac arrest. You didn’t even know you had a thing for forearms until Bob Reynolds. And his? They’re absurd. Or You love everything Bob does, and he doesn't seem to notice.

Tags/Warnings: Fluff, love confessions, friends to lovers, Bob and reader being cute, thirsting over the void a little

WC: 3.1k

A/N: Thank you again to @fire-joestar for the request/idea. Wrote something with the same kind of concept for John Walker, linked here. Enjoy!

***

Bob Reynolds is ruining your life.

Not in the dramatic, villain-of-your-story kind of way, but in the slow, quiet unravelling of your sanity. It’s too hard to be around him with all the smiling and casual charm and accidental intimacy that he does without even realising it.

And it’s always the little things which somehow make it worse.

His voice, for one. You were obsessed with his voice. He could be reading the back of a cereal box or listing off the ingredients in engine coolant, and it would still sound like poetry. Sometimes he’d actually read to you. You and Bob were the only members of the unofficial Avengers book club.

You’d often talk about books you’d read, trading recommendations like secrets, excitedly dissecting plot twists and favourite characters. It became a quiet ritual between you and Bob.

“There’s no audiobook,” you groaned one night, holding up the newest paperback in your stack. “I was hoping to listen to one so I could fall asleep.”

Bob, ever the calm in your chaos, looked over at you with that soft little smile he always wore when he was about to offer something way too generous.

“I can read it to you,” he said, casual like it wasn’t the most heart-stoppingly sweet thing you’d ever heard.

You blinked. “You sure you don’t mind?” you asked, voice tinged with both hope and hesitation.

But he just shook his head, already pulling a chair up beside your bed, brushing off any notion of it being a burden. “Not at all.”

His voice was too much. It filled the space in your room like a blanket. He didn’t touch you, not once, just sat a few feet away reading by the soft light of your bedside lamp. But somehow it still felt intimate, like his voice alone was petting you gently, like fingertips tracing down your spine, calming every frayed nerve.

But his voice wasn’t just soothing, it was sexy. You’d never tell him or the other Avengers this because of the whole traumatic experience and whatnot, but even when he became the void, his voice was something else.

It was dark and mocking, and it had you feeling some kind of way, only a little, because people were literally being turned into shadows and living out their trauma. But still, it pulled at something deep inside you and maybe made you discover a few things about yourself. Maybe something you should be concerned about, but nevertheless...

Although his voice isn’t the only thing that’s contributing to your downfall.

Just this morning, you’re barely awake and walk in to be greeted by the sight of Bob making breakfast, one of your favourite sights.

“Morning,” you mumble, suppressing a yawn.

“Morning…” he replies with an easy smile, going about his routine, setting up to make breakfast.

“Thank you, Bob,” you say, turning to him, feeling completely in control, your head still firmly attached to the rest of you.

But then you catch something, he’s cracking eggs one-handed. Now, you don’t know why that’s so captivating. Maybe it’s how strong and big his hands look, maybe it’s the effortless confidence in the motion. Or maybe it’s just because you’re so hopelessly in love with him that everything he does feels like it’s dipped in gold.

Either way, you liked it. A lot more than you probably should’ve.

“You could crack me like an egg,” you mumble quietly to yourself.

“Did you say something?” Bob asks, not hearing what you said, thank goodness.

“No, nothing at all. You’re looking good, the... the breakfast is looking good, I mean…” You stumble over your words, cheeks warming as you try to play it cool.

This crush you had on him certainly didn’t help when you had to help him train. He was like a baby cow, clumsy, unsure, and somehow always one step away from falling over his own feet. And everything he did just made him that much more endearing. The way he bit his lip when he was concentrating, the little apologetic smiles when he missed a step or fumbled a move, the way he always tried again without complaint. It was everything.

“You have to…um you have to…” You start, but your voice trails off as you catch the way he’s looking at you.

Another one of Bob’s quirks that has you going feral… the eye contact. He’s always so focused, so intent, like he’s really watching you, really seeing you. His eyes hold this sharp, unwavering attention that’s equal parts intense and disarming. It totally throws you off your game.

You’re brought back to your senses by him saying your name repeatedly.

“Where’d you go?” he says, putting his hand on your shoulder. You shake off the Bob-induced daze and look at him with full attention.

“I’m too hopeless a student?” He asks.

“Rather, I’m too hopeless of a teacher,” You reply with a chuckle, and it was true. It's impossible to teach when you’re hopelessly, irreversibly, maddeningly in love with the one you’re training.

“So what now?” he asks, rolling up his sleeves.

Big mistake.

Huge mistake.

Because now you’re at serious risk of going into full cardiac arrest.

You didn’t even know you had a thing for forearms until Bob Reynolds. And his? They’re absurd. The veins, the muscle, the smooth strength of his arms just disappearing under the fabric of his shirt. You can only imagine what his biceps look like. Or his shoulders. Or—

You shake your head quickly, trying to banish the rapidly spiralling thoughts. You know Bob is probably confused, waiting for an answer, but your eyes? Yeah, they’re glued to his damn forearms.

Damn his forearms.

“Break,” you blurt. “Ten-minute break. Minimum.”

Before he can respond, you practically launch yourself toward the water fountain, needing a distraction, a cooldown, and maybe divine intervention.

You take a long drink, trying not to think about veins. Or rolled-up sleeves. Or Bob at all.

But Bob lived in your mind; he had taken up residence there as soon as you met, and he wasn’t moving out anytime soon. It wasn’t fair that he was cute but also kind and helpful? It made you want to crash into a wall.

You were struggling with a particularly stubborn jar, the kind that mocks you with every twist. You could fight ten people with one hand tied behind your back, balance complex equations in your head, but you couldn’t defeat this jar of pickles.

Bob appears, quiet as ever, and silently offers to take it from your hands. You hesitate, then sigh and surrender.

He reaches over, his hand brushing yours, and takes it. In one fluid motion, he opens it like it's nothing. Like it hadn't just reduced you to near madness. Like your struggle had never even happened.

“Thank you,” you say, your voice barely making it past your lips.

He smiles softly, unbothered, warm. “What are friends for?” he says, placing his hand gently on your shoulder. It’s a brief touch that somehow says more than the words. And then he disappears down the hall, like it was nothing.

Right… friends.

***

You’re wandering the tower again. When you have nothing to do, your feet always seem to lead you to Bob.

You knock on his door, and after a muffled "Come in," you step inside.

You look around and there he is, shaving in front of a small mirror propped up on the windowsill.

“Hope I’m not intruding…” You say hesitantly.

He glances at you through the mirror, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. His hair is slightly damp and tousled, a few strands falling stubbornly into his eyes. He’s probably just stepped out of the shower a few minutes prior, the smell of his shampoo and lotion filling the air.

He’s holding a razor, face half-lathered, brow furrowed in concentration. You liked him like this, all cute and focused. There was something about the way he moved with such care, guiding the blade with precise, practised strokes. It was intimate in a way you couldn’t explain.

“You don’t have to, but can you help me?” Bob asks, voice gentle but sure.

“Sure,” you reply, stepping closer.

And again, you’re hit with that electricity that crackles between you when your eyes meet. He watches you, patient and open, and you always wonder if he realises just how much that look affects you.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle,” you whisper, picking up the towel and dabbing away some stray foam. Your hand is steady now, more confident, and with it comes a strange kind of comfort. The scent of him surrounds you, clean, warm, a little woodsy. It was comforting and something else, too. You wanted to dive into it. To stay wrapped up in that scent, in him. You could only imagine waking up to your sheets smelling like him.

How the hell was the way he smelled even sexy?

“You smell good,” you say, without thinking.

You both go extremely still, equally flustered.

“So do you,” he finally replies, and there's another little pause. You stare at each other, your heart performing an Olympic-level gymnastics routine inside your chest.

“W–where’s your aftershave?” you ask, trying to find something to focus on that isn’t the intensity of his gaze.

“Bathroom,” he says, voice lower now.

You nod, quickly turning away. A second later, you’re back with the bottle in hand. You open it, the scent hitting you all over again, it’s undeniably him.

Without asking, you step closer and start applying it for him, your fingers brushing gently against his jaw, his cheek, his neck. Every feature, each line of his face, every angle was something you could get addicted to. A slow study of a man who somehow never felt like too much.

You glance up.

He’s standing still, letting you do it, but he’s no longer meeting your eyes.

Now he’s the one who can’t make eye contact.

And it’s… adorable.

He’s quiet under your touch, eyes lowered, breath just a little more shallow than before. You can tell he’s holding back. Holding himself still, as if afraid that leaning into your hand might unravel something he’s worked hard to keep together.

The way his lashes flutter when your fingers graze the curve of his jaw. The way his shoulders tense, then ease, like he’s trying not to sink into the warmth of being seen.

He’s touch-starved. You can feel it, not in desperation, but in the aching restraint. The way his fists clenched and unclenched as if to distract himself.

And you’re not much better off. Your hand lingers, thumb brushing the edge of his cheekbone, and you’re forced to get a hold of yourself.

“I’m, uh… all done,” you say, pulling your hands away from his face. You see the way his shoulders drop just slightly as he deflates, but you don’t read into it.

Bob nods, almost like he’s coming out of a trance. Like he can finally breathe again. “Well… thanks,” he says, voice soft.

You offer a quick, awkward smile, and then you’re scurrying your way out of his room like you’ve just committed a felony.

Because, honestly? Being that close to Bob felt like grounds for something dangerous. Emotional trespassing, maybe. Or reckless heart behaviour.

He was too fine for his own good.

And way, way too fine for your good.

***

Bob was always there for you, the most supportive presence anyone could wish for. So when you crashed into his room late at night, just as he’d finally started to fall asleep, he wasn’t mad. Not even close.

“There’s a spider in my room!” you declared, breathless and dramatic.

“It’s midnight…” Bob mumbled, mid-yawn, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“Exactly! Imagine my surprise when it came lunging at me from inside my wardrobe. I tried to catch it, but the stubborn fucker escaped and crawled up my wall like it owned the place.”

He blinked at you, then sighed and swung his legs out of bed, already standing. His hair was messy, and his t-shirt clung a little unevenly from sleep. His steady steps led toward your door.

“It’s fine. You can hide behind me,” he said with a soft smile.

Then he casually and instinctively took your hand.

And just like that, something settled in your chest. His hand was warm, steady, and strong. His fingers laced through yours like it was the most natural thing in the world. You could’ve let him hold it for hours.

You followed closely behind, using him shamelessly as a human shield. “Where is it?” he asked, already scanning your room like a man on a mission.

“There,” you pointed, spotting the tiny monster halfway up the far wall. “That’s him. The bold bastard.”

Bob narrowed his eyes and, without hesitation, lifted gently off the floor. You blinked. It still caught you off guard, seeing him use his powers. You hadn’t seen him even float since that day. And now here he was, levitating to defeat a spider for you.

It was more than just endearing.

It was… kind of ridiculously attractive.

He could’ve pulverised it. Turned it to dust without blinking. But instead, he hovered close, cupped it carefully in his hands like it was something fragile, and opened the window to let it go.

Why the fuck was that so hot?

“Thanks…” you said softly, watching him touch back down, the faintest smile still on his lips.

He looked at you, all sleepy eyes and soft concern. “It’s no problem,” he said, his voice low. “Plus, I kind of liked saving you.”

Your heart did a little twist. You swallowed.

“This is… and you are completely within your right to say no, but…”

He tilted his head slightly, curious.

“Would you stay the night?” you asked, trying to sound casual. “You know. Just to protect me from any future spider insurgencies.”

His smile widened, just a little. “Well,” he said, moving closer, “can’t leave you defenceless now, can I?”

You smile and shift slightly, making enough space for him in the bed. He hesitates for only a moment before settling beside you, the mattress dipping under his weight.

You stare at him, his face softly illuminated by the distant glow of streetlights and the scattered lights of other buildings outside the window. His messy hair is fanned out against your pillow, and you can feel his body heat slowly merging with yours, a quiet warmth that pulls you in like gravity.

“Why’d you come and get me? Why not someone else?” Bob asks, his voice gentle as he turns toward you, rolling a little closer.

“You’re the one I want protecting me from evil spiders,” you answer honestly. No one else even came to mind. The moment you were scared or the least bit unsure, you could always turn to Bob. It was like instinct.

“Why?” he presses, softer this time. He’s not looking at you now, his gaze shifted to the ceiling. You take a moment to just look at him—his side profile, the way his jaw tenses like he’s bracing for something, the small crease between his brows.

“Because…” you begin, the words slow. You pause, focusing on all the little things you like about him. His kindness, his dry humour, his quiet strength, and the way he always seems to make you feel calm.

Maybe it’s because it’s too late at night. Maybe it’s the safety of the dark. Maybe it’s the way your brain feels hazy and open and ready.

But the next words out of your mouth are:

“I like you.”

Bob freezes for a second, then jumps just a little, like the words caught him off guard. He slowly turns his head to look at you, his expression unreadable at first.

He doesn’t say anything right away. Just stares.

And you wait. Heart in your throat. Every second, stretching. Either he was about to tell you he felt the same… or this was the moment your friendship shattered.

“I like you too,” he says.

His voice is soft and low, like he’s afraid saying it too loud might wake him from a dream. But his eyes are steady. And you can tell that he’s telling the truth.

You scoot closer, close enough to feel the way your breath mingles.

“So…” you murmur, lips twitching into the ghost of a smile, “what should we do about this little situation we’ve got ourselves in?”

Your heart is pounding so loudly, you’re sure he can hear it.

He leans in just a little, voice almost a whisper.

“I think we know.”

Tentatively, he reaches out, fingers brushing your cheek with a touch so careful it makes your breath catch. He looks at you like really looks at you as if trying to memorise the moment, commit it to something deeper than memory.

You exhale, slow and steady, and let yourself give in. You lean forward until your lips finally meet.

It’s soft at first, the kind of kiss that makes your heart soar and your whole body ache with relief. Bit by bit, it becomes more passionate as you melt into one another. He deepens it, cupping your face fully in his hands, pulling you closer like he’s afraid you might disappear if he lets go.

And before you know it, you’re climbing into his lap, your arms around his shoulders, his hands steady at your waist. Everything feels like too much and just enough all at once.

He pauses, just barely pulling back, breath ghosting against your lips.

“Are you sure?” he asks, voice husky, careful, but laced with something vulnerable.

You meet his gaze, no hesitation. You were in this for the long haul.

“More than anything.”

The next day, upon seeing Bob’s door wide open and no Bob anywhere to be seen, the team went into immediate panic mode. They searched high and low, worried he’d disappeared on them in the middle of the night.

“Have you seen—?” Yelena begins, swinging open your door mid-sentence, only to stop dead in her tracks at the sight of you and Bob fast asleep, wrapped up in each other’s arms.

The rest of the team crowds in behind her, eyes wide, jaws dropping.

You jolt awake at the sound, blinking in confusion as you realise the entirety of the Avengers are now in your doorway.

You shriek, diving under the covers and yanking them up to your chin to salvage whatever dignity you have left. “Privacy! Ever heard of it?!”

“Called it,” Ava and John say in perfect sync, like they just won a bet.

You groan, your entire face heating as you sink lower into the sheets, mortified.

Meanwhile, Bob? Still fast asleep, completely unbothered by the intrusion, his arm still draped across your waist like nothing’s changed. How is he sleeping through this?

You glance at him in disbelief, then back at the group.

“Can everyone get out now?!”

Yelena smiles. “We’re so happy for you two.”

“Out!”

Masterlist

#bob reynolds #bob reynolds x reader #x reader #fluff #gender neutral reader #bob reynolds fanfic #friends to lovers #love confessions #bob thunderbolts x reader #thunderbolts x reader #thunderbolts*#thunderbolts #thunderbolts fanfic #robert reynolds #robert reynolds x reader

2K notes · View notes

sinner-as-saint · 1 month ago

Text

You take the dark and carve me out a home

Bucky Barnes x New Avenger!Reader

Summary: Unwinding after a tough mission is not exactly easy. Especially not when you’re part of a group that is always, constantly under scrutiny. Which is why you were always extra hard on yourself whenever you felt like you made a mistake or let the team down in any way. Bucky was aware of this, he was aware of everything regarding you, and usually he gave you your space and within a day or two you’d get back to normal. But this time was different, he noticed. It had been a couple of days since your last mission and you were still in that weird, distant headspace. And Bucky needed you back, the whole team needed you back, but him more because… well, because he cared about you a lot more than he let on.

Themes: soft!dom!bucky, praise kink, angst, hurt/comfort, friends-to-lovers, fluff

“Where is she?”

Bucky demanded, walking in, looking around, and noticing immediately that you weren’t at the dinner table. The rest of the team looked like they’d just been done eating. Alexei was almost falling asleep in his seat already.

“I thought she was with you?” Ava squinted at Bucky.

Yelena added, “Don’t you two always work out together every night?”

Bucky frowned. “I know, I…” He paused to think. “I left the gym hours ago. She said she was gonna finish up and come find you guys.” He rolled his eyes at the realisation, “So she’s been in there alone for the past couple of hours and no one checked on her.”

“I did.” Bob said, always with that lost puppy dog look in his eyes. “I went to the gym earlier to get a workout in. But she glared at me, so I just kinda left, like, really quickly.”

“Relax, man.” John spoke, adding to Bucky’s irritation. “She’s probably still working out to get her mind off things. You know how she gets.”

Bucky sighed and walked away, leaving the rest of them in the kitchen. Damn it. He could’ve checked up on you too. But after his work out he had some calls to attend to, and deal with some things on behalf of the team. He’d totally lost track of time. Also, he genuinely didn’t think you’d stay in the gym for hours. He knew you worked out each day, sometimes twice a day. But lately, he was getting more and more worried watching you put your body through pain hours at a time.

He took the elevator to the floor the gym was on and walked in to find you with your boxing gloves on, the punching bag swinging gently in front of you. Your head was lowered, your back to him but he still saw the way your shoulders moved as you breathed quickly. Your skin glistened with sweat, and Bucky just knew you weren’t having a good night.

Again.

He needed to do something about that.

“Have mercy on that poor punching bag.” He said, keeping his eyes on you as you turned to face him. He realised he would never get used to it, that intense look in your eyes whenever you got into moods like these. The look that made most people run away from you. But not him. Never him. “Let’s go. You’re tired.”

“I’m not.” You were quick to argue. Always quick to argue. Then you took your fighting stance again, facing him rather than the punching bag, your fists up in the air. Ready to spar. “Come on. And don’t be gentle with me.”

“No.” He declined politely. “You’ve been here for hours. You need to shower, eat, and get some sleep. I can’t have you walking around looking like that anymore.” He stepped closer, your dark red gloves almost touching his chest. “I know you think you messed up on our last mission. But you didn’t. We made it out alive, all of us. Stop punishing yourself for things you didn’t do.”

You lowered your fists. Looking defeated. Bucky always saw right through you. “But I put us at risk. I didn’t wait for the signal,” You stated. “I could’ve gotten us all killed.”

“But you didn’t.” He said firmly. “Besides, one mistake doesn’t take away from the fact that you’re one of the best out of all of us.” He sighed upon seeing how truly hard you could be on yourself. “Give yourself some grace.”

You hung your head again. Bucky wanted to hold you close and not let go until you felt better. And it killed him that he didn't know how to get you out of that dark, shadowy pit of guilt and disappointment. He reached out and touched your cheek, his fingers cupping your face. “What’s going on with you? Where are you?” He whispered, “Come back to us.”

Come back to me.

You gave him a faint smile. Bucky had always been your safe place. With his dreamy blue and often tired eyes, and his Disney prince, perfect hair, and his charming smile. He was definitely your go-to person. You loved the rest of the team, but Bucky was special. He somehow always got it. With him, you never had to explicitly explain everything, he always just understood what you meant. He spoke your language.

You two had always been closer to each other than to the others. And while the others constantly teased you about the tension between you two, you never acted on it, nor did either of you ever deny it. Sure, flirty comments here and there were a regular thing. And you both cared deeply for one another, but you never talked about it in a serious way. Having the other there was always just… comfortable.

Bucky managed to get you out of the gym and sent you to your floor. He took the stairs to the kitchen again and made you a plate, full of your favourite things, and took it to your room. The door was unlocked and he could still hear you in the shower. He didn’t want to disturb you so he placed the plate on your bed and left.

–

Hours later, Bucky still couldn’t sleep. He’d received a text from you, you thanked him for bringing you food and said you were off to bed. But something was keeping him restless. He didn’t know what it was. He simply couldn’t stay still.

He quickly checked the cameras and was relieved to see the gym was empty. Which meant that you were up in your room. Which was a good thing, but something in his gut was telling him to go check up on you. Bucky got up immediately as soon as the thought crossed his mind.

He made his way to your floor again, the entire building was quiet. It was well past midnight and he said he’d just check on you. Nothing else. He would knock on your door and if you didn’t answer immediately, he would go back up to his room.

But something told him you were still awake. And if you were awake you were probably overthinking yourself to death, drowning in guilt and disappointment. Bucky sighed, waiting for the elevator to stop on your floor. That look in your eyes earlier in the gym was haunting him. He missed the spark in you. The brightness. That empty look… he wanted it gone.

Bucky found himself rethinking his actions once he was at your bedroom door. There was still silence, even on the other side. But he knocked twice, he had to.

He waited, a little embarrassed because what the hell would he say he was here for? That is, if you were still up.

He was still wondering what he would actually say when you opened the door quickly, as if you were waiting for him to show up.

Bucky took one look at you and your face, tear-stained and lips trembling as you tried to keep it all in, and he pulled you into his arms immediately. Walking in and shutting the door behind him, Bucky kept his arms securely around you.

Your breaths were shaky. Your body trembling with your quiet sobs.

“Hey, I’m here.” Bucky whispered, his lips pressed against your forehead. “I’ve got you. It’s okay, it’s all gonna be okay. I’m here.”

And somehow, being in his arms made the darkness go away gradually. Bucky’s scent, his body heat, the feeling of his strong arms around you, hearing his steady heartbeat, it calmed you down instantly.

“Come here,” He walked over to your bed, sat down on the edge and pulled you down onto his lap. He had hugged you many times before, but this felt different. Intimate. But natural. It felt like you belonged there in his arms.

You straddled his thighs, limbs wrapped around him like he was the only thing left in the world. Like he was all you had. Your face hidden in the crook of his neck. His hands running up and down your back and sides while he kept mumbling reassuring words in your ear. You felt safe.

“I’m sorry.” You said.

And your voice was so quiet and weak that it broke his heart. “Don’t be.” He quickly said. “You didn’t do anything wrong. We all make mistakes, it’s okay.”

“I feel… inadequate.” You sniffled, pulling away to look him in the eyes. His ocean blue ones looked into your eyes with so much patience and warmth that it healed parts of you. “And empty,” You continued. “I feel like I’m not doing enough. Like I'm still not strong enough. Just not enough.”

“Hey,” He cupped your face in his hands. “Just ‘cause that’s what the voices are screaming at you, doesn’t mean it’s true. Okay? None of what you just said is true.” He said, sincerely. “None of it. You’re the strongest person I know. You’re fierce and kind. You boss most of us around, but you care so deeply and it shows.” His thumbs wiped your tears away. “You add so much to our team, don’t you see that? You’re one of the few people Bob is comfortable around. You and Ava make a deadly combo. You and Yelena keep everything in order. You and John work really well together when it comes to keeping us safe or protecting us during combat. You and Alexei, well, he loves you just as much as he loves Yelena.” Bucky listed, “And as for you and I, we’re simply the best duo there can be, aren’t we?” He sounded a little playful.

And it put a faint smile on your face. You sniffled, nodding slowly. “Just having a rough couple of days, I guess.”

It was more than just that, but Bucky only asked, “What do you need? And don’t say you need to box or spar, or anything. Clearly that’s not helping like it usually does.” He pointed out. “You wanna take a few days off and go somewhere to clear your head?”

You shook your head, whispering, “No. I like it here. It’s fine, I just… I don’t know.” You took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I can’t quite put it into words.”

“Try.” He said, “Take your time. I’m here, I’ll listen.”

You sighed again, unable to look him in the eyes as you spoke. “I just feel numb all the time. And it gets worse when I don’t do my job well. And now I’m struggling to just… feel something. I feel nothing all the time lately and I know it sounds like I’m whining about it but…” You took another deep breath, “It’s exhausting. It’s heavy. It’s not just numbness, it’s like I’m stagnant and I want to get out of… whatever this state is and I try, I try but something keeps dragging me down and keeping me in a chokehold right where it feels the heaviest. I wanna get out. Of my head, out of this weird headspace I’m in but nothing helps. Nothing works. I don’t know. I don’t know if that made sense, I’m just fucked up I guess.”

Chokehold. He knew that feeling all too well. “You’re not fucked up.” He said, “I know how it feels.”

“I know you do.” You finally met his eyes and the shadows disappeared gradually. “I don’t know what I would do without you, Buck.”

“What can I do to help?” He asked. It killed him to see you like this. You were here but also so distant. He wanted you back, for your own sake, but also because he missed having his best friend around.

“Make me feel something.” You said, softly like you were afraid someone else might hear. “Anything, please.”

“Oh, baby.” Something about the way you sounded so vulnerable, which was rare from you, made Bucky forget about everything else. He didn’t care, all he wanted to do was piece you back together. “I’ve got you.” He whispered, and leaned in and pressed his lips to yours, hands trailing down your body until he placed his hands on the curve of your ass and pulled you into him even more.

You gasped against his mouth, kissing him back slowly, melting into him. His metal hand came to rest on your exposed thigh, only then did you realise that in your PJ shorts really didn’t hide much. His cold fingers lazily grazed the crease between your hip and thigh, and it was all you could focus on in the moment, other than the heat of his mouth.

Bucky pulled away to whisper, “Just so you know, we can stop if you don’t want this,” before he kissed you hungrily again, his beard and his long, soft hair tickling your face. “We can go back to talking and we’ll pretend this never happened.”

“Please don’t stop.” You mumbled against his mouth. “I need this. I need you.”

“Okay,” He whispered, in between kisses, “I won’t stop, baby. I’ve got you,” He repeated. “Don’t worry, I’m right here. Okay?”

You pulled away from the kiss, teary eyed again. “I trust you, Buck.”

Bucky accepted the weight of that trust, he cupped your face and said softly, “I know, angel. I’m gonna take care of you. I promise.”

You could’ve sworn he used superhuman speed with how fast he flipped the two of you, tossing you down on your bed as he climbed on top of you. He carefully grabbed your hand and brought it up to his mouth, kissing your knuckles softly as he whispered, “I’ll be gentle.”

“Don’t be.” You pleaded, looking up at him. His hair framed his face in a perfectly messy way. His body was warm above you. Bucky was always warmer than most people, you figured it was a supersoldier thing. “I don’t want gentle.”

He nodded. “Okay, angel. Remember, we can stop whenever you want to. Alright?”

“Yes.”

Bucky held your stare as he rapidly undid the buttons of your satin PJ top, and immediately diving in to take a nipple into his mouth once the top was open. Sucking, and biting until your back arched off the bed.

“Bucky…” You gasped, and moaned as he alternated between each breast while his hand slipped down to pull your shorts and underwear down your legs until you kicked it off yourself.

He pulled away to look at you, sprawled on the bed under him. Then he leaned in to whisper against your lips, “You don’t want gentle, huh? Well, you’re gonna be a good girl and do exactly as I say, okay? I need you to stop thinking, to stop calculating, and analysing, just listen to me. My voice and that’s it.”

He knew what it was like – that feeling of wanting someone to just tell you what to do. It didn’t have to be sexual like right now, but just the loss of control in a safe, consensual way. With someone you trust blindly. He knew it could heal, partly at least. So he knew exactly what you needed right now.

He kissed you roughly, taking what he wanted from your open, willing mouth before pulling away to look down at you with a dangerous, gorgeous smile on his lips. “You’re all mine now. You hear me?” He whispered against your mouth. “You’re my perfect girl. And my perfect girl doesn’t put herself down. She doesn’t think she's not good enough. She doesn’t think she’s done a bad job. She doesn’t think she’s fucked up. Because she’s not. She’s my good fucking girl, and she’s perfect. You hear me? You’re perfect.”

You gasped as he lazily ran his metal fingers down your wet folds.

“Look at you, such a good girl. Lying here so perfectly with your legs spread, just letting me touch you however I want.” He stated, grabbing your face in his other hand as he slid two metal fingers inside you. His voice was steady, controlled, and firm as he said, “This is how it’s gonna be from now on, okay? Whenever you need to be reminded how good you are, you come find me.” He slid his fingers deeper, pulling them out slowly in a way that he knew drove you insane, judging by the sounds you made. “Whenever the voices get too loud, you come find me.” He did it again. “Whenever it gets too dark, you come find me.” He leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours. “I’ll fix it, baby. I always will. You don’t have to carry all that alone, I’ll help you. I’ve got you from now on, you get that? You’re not alone, I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

He had you coming all over his fingers in no time. He stroked you in all the right places and your body responded to each one of his lazy, deliberate strokes beautifully. You squirmed as he kept finger-fucking you through your orgasm.

“There’s my perfect girl,” He cooed, watching you squirm and whine under him. “You did so well,” He kissed your cheek, then the other, “You sound so perfect when you come.”

He pulled away for a brief moment, getting off of you and standing at the end of your bed, taking his t-shirt and sweatpants off but leaving his boxers, lowered just enough to free his erected cock.

He stood there, wrapped his hand around his cock and stroked it twice while he held your stare. “It’s all for you, angel. All for you and no one else.” He said, watching with a slight smirk as you looked down at his cock and bit your lower lip. “Are you gonna be my good girl and take it?”

You nodded quickly, “Yes.” Not even realising that all the prior shadowy thoughts had completely left your head. This was all you could focus on – him. Bucky. With his perfect body, and his beautiful hair, and his dreamy eyes. Nothing else existed. Nothing else mattered.

Buckley climbed on top of you again. “Careful what you ask for, baby. Supersoldiers don’t get tired.” He sounded so cocky it made you only want him more just to prove him wrong.

“I want you, please,” You begged, looking up at him with those eyes that made him weak.

One of his hands found its way to your throat and he wrapped his fingers around it carefully as he stared into your eyes. “Nothing else holds my girl in a chokehold but me, you hear that? Nothing else has power over you, but me. And you,” He leaned in closer to make sure his point got across, “You are my good girl. You’re enough. You do a great job everyday. You’re stronger than all that’s trying to drag you down. And you’re louder than all the dark voices, you hear me?”

You nodded, the look in his eyes was so intense, so raw and sincere, and so shamelessly feral that you might’ve come undone right there if he asked you to.

“You will come for me like my good girl, won’t you, baby?” He asked, guiding the tip of his cock over to your clit and circling it, smearing his precum and your wetness around.

You whimpered at the sensation. So fucking good. You nodded rapidly, “Yes… please,” You begged.

“Of course you will,” Bucky chuckled, “Because you’re my perfect girl.” He teased you a bit more by just pressing the tip of his cock against your tight hole. Not pushing it in, just pressing ever so gently until you whined and clawed at his neck and shoulders, sliding your fingers into his ridiculously soft hair and tugging on it gently.

“Bucky, please.” You mumbled, “Please, please, please…”

“I know baby, I know.” He said, keeping his hand around your throat, pinning you down on your bed with it. “I’m here, I’ll make it feel good.” He whispered, before pushing his cock all the way inside you.

You gasped loudly at the same time as he groaned when he slid all the way in you. He remained still for a few moments, just relishing the feeling of your warmth around him. Your breath was shaky as you felt him fill you up and stretch you out so deliciously, snug, deep, and big inside you.

Bucky looked down at your face contorting in pleasure as he breathed heavily. Then he moved just a little, and the slightest friction made you whine even louder. “Does that feel good, baby? Is that cock good enough for my perfect girl? Hmm?”

“Yes…” You breathed, looking at his gorgeous face above you. Fuck, you could spend forever here under him. He felt so good.

“Look at that,” He said, “You’re tearing up already,” He pointed out, noticing the wetness in the corners of your eyes. “Feel good inside you, don’t I?” He teased, rolling his hips just the slightest bit in between your thighs.

You cried out in pleasure.

He tightened his grip around your throat slightly and said, “I know baby, I know it feels good. This is exactly what my good girl deserves.” He whispered. Then he said, “Now, keep your pretty eyes on me. I want you to watch me while I fuck you, okay?”

You nodded quickly, a tear escaping your eye already. Fuck, he felt so good.

Bucky let out a grunt as he started fucking into you hard and fast. He tightened his grip around your throat as he sped up into you, holding your stare and telling you how good you felt.

You could only respond with moans and whimpers, which only made him fuck you harder.

He sped up into you, mumbling, “Knew you’d feel fucking amazing around me. ‘Cause you’re my perfect girl, aren’t you? Perfect, tight pussy as well.” He whispered, in a daze as he pounded into you. “You were fucking made for me.”

Your body squirmed under him, your back arching off the bed, you were burning. Bright and hot. Like the fucking sun. And he was giving it to you like you wanted it, hard, fast and raw.

His thrust was relentless, his weight on top of you felt too good. So good you never wanted him to pull out of you, so you raised your trembling legs and wrapped them around his hips.

He chuckled when you did that. “Yeah? Don’t want me to stop, do you?” He taunted. “Just want me to keep going, keep fucking my good girl how she likes it, huh?” He pressed the sides of your throat as he fucked deeper into you.

He watched as you got closer and closer to the edge. And just when you were right there… he stopped abruptly, and pulled out.

You gasped in shock.

“Oh what, you thought you could just come so easily?” He teased, grabbing you by the hips and flipping you around onto your stomach. “I tried to be nice and sweet to you, but that’s not what you want or need, is it, baby?” You moaned as he grabbed your wrists and pinned them to your lower back with one hand, while the other guided his cock over to your hole again. “You see? This is what you need.” He leaned over you to whisper into your ear, sliding back inside you as he said, “You wanted me to make you feel something, huh? Do you feel it now, baby?” He tugged on your pinned wrists, which made you whine in pain and pleasure. “You feel me inside you? Right where I belong, isn’t it?”

You nodded, rubbing your face against your dark, cool bed sheets. “Yes…”

He began fucking into you from behind, hard and fast. Mercilessly. Like he was claiming you. Marking his territory. Rough. Raw. The pleasure was overwhelming, building, and building, and building…

Until you couldn’t hold it back much longer…

“Come for me, angel.” He whispered, lips brushing against your ear. “Be my good girl and come all over…”

You didn’t hear the rest. You came all over his cock with a loud moan, gasping and crying as he came right after you – filling you up with his cum as he did. You were gasping for air, and so was he. His body weight on top of you felt nice, his body heat felt nice. Everything was nice, light, and perfect.

He let go of your wrists and then you felt him kiss along your spine, gently. Softly. Like he hadn’t been fucking you like an animal just seconds ago. “You okay, baby?” He asked, pressing a kiss to the back of your neck. “My pretty girl, so perfect for me.”

You were still catching your breath when Bucky lay beside you and pulled you into his arms. You immediately clung to his side.

“I’ve got you.” He whispered.

You sighed, with a faint smile forming on your face. Your cheek pressing against his damp chest. “Thank you, Buck.” Your mind was quiet, but in a good way. “I needed that.”

“I know.” He murmured, rubbing your back in that soothing way he always did.

But then, you still had one question. “How did you know when to come find me? I texted you I was going to bed.” How did he even know to come and check on you? How did he know you weren’t doing well at all?

A smirk, then he said, “I always know what my girl needs.”

You teased, “Your girl, huh?”

“You’ve always been my girl.”

—

a/n: [escapes my padded cell to throw this at your face]

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #marvel #thunderbolts #avenger!reader

2K notes · View notes

lovelivision · 2 months ago

Text

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎.❝ SAY MY NAME ❞

･ ⟢ ⋮ summary. . . running into your childhood friend you'd lost touch with just when you were in need of a roommate was super lucky for you, too bad living with and getting close to him has you feeling things you probably shouldn't !! just how exactly is he feeling about this arrangement ??

.pairing ﹒ꕀ . gojo satoru / reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎wc. ⁀ ⊹ 12.6k

warnings.ᐟ.ᐟ 18+ only, smut, university au, swearing, dirty talk, cunnilingus, thigh fucking, big dick gojo, p in v penetration, unprotected sex, praise kink, creampie, fingering, cumplay (not really), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, size kink (if you squint), gojo is down bad, reader is scared of horror films, f!reader, she/her pronouns used, i think that's all !!

Having a roommate is great! You pay less on rent, split utility bills, there’s usually someone home if you get locked out or have to go away for a couple days. There’s many benefits, which is why you wanted one in the first place but when it comes to your reality… it’s a different story. Especially when your roommate is some guy from one of your classes that suddenly needed a roommate when you started looking.

Okay, some guy is a little harsh, you’ve known each other since you were kids, you just grew apart as you got older and have only really gotten back in touch during university. It was surprising to see him on campus but not unpleasant. He was a familiar face on a day where you had no friends in a new environment. It’s embarrassing to think back on it now, with how you practically clung to him the whole day.

Your childhood with him was nice, there’s a lot of memories there. Thinking hard, there wasn’t even an inciting incident to your growing apart. It was natural and happened slowly. Still neighbours but he’d gone to a different high school, and you’d stayed where you were. You don’t really know or remember what happened that you stopped hanging out all together and you were too shy and nervous to just walk those few steps next door.

He was the boy that walked home with you after school, who held his hand out to you when you fell over, who told kids off for picking on you. He was a good friend and always made you smile, losing a friend like him hurt. It hurts more that there isn’t any obvious blame to be put anywhere, it’s not like you guys had a fight or anything.

The fact that your paths had diverged and met again feels bizarre and puts you on edge. Easily falling into step with him before realising you’ve not seen each other in years, a familiarity you feel like you shouldn’t have but is there regardless. Often talking like you’re close before correcting yourself because despite being the same people, you’re completely different.

“Your thinking is disturbing me,” his voice comes from behind you.

The sudden sound gives you a start and you jump, “Geez Gojo,” you turn to look at him, his head tilted and smile lopsided as he leans on the back of the couch you’re seated on, “How long have you been there for?”

He shrugs before throwing his leg over the couch and stepping onto it from behind, flopping onto his ass and jostling you with his movements, “I dunno, a few minutes or more?”

You only hum noncommittally at him, your train of thought completely gone. It doesn’t matter, you have a feeling you’d gotten distracted from the point you were trying to make to yourself anyways.

“You’re gone again,” he pokes at your cheek and you slap his hand away.

“Stop it, I was thinking about something and now all my thoughts are muddled and useless.”

Gojo sinks further into the couch, spreading his limbs out far too wide, “Must not have been all that important then.”

A sound of disagreement from you, “I was thinking about my childhood…”

“Ah…” he sighs, “Must’ve been thinking about me then,” his lashes flutter at you.

And just like that, you remembered what you were initially thinking of. Having a roommate is good in theory and not practice because now you’re living with the single most annoying person on the planet. Only he manages to press all your buttons and you can’t tell if he’s just like that or if it’s because you knew each other as kids.

You choose not to answer him, he bugs you and a part of why he bugs you so much is because he doesn’t even seem a little bit bothered by your past friendship. He’s comfortable around you and is quick to bring up the past, you’d wondered at first if he felt the same sting over your lost past together but his attitude towards you had that line of thinking dropping quick.

Maybe moving in with him was stupid but you needed a roommate and you knew him, it was the better choice but you’re questioning that logic a little bit now. “Do you feel uncomfortable that I’m living with you?”

His head shoots to look at you and his brows pinch, “No.” When you don’t say anything more, he asks, “Are you uncomfortable living here… with me?”

Your eyes meet and you can tell he’s concerned which wasn’t your intention, “No, don’t worry about it… I was just thinking out loud.”

“Wanna know what your problem is?”

Whatever he’s about to tell you is going to be stupid, “No. Not really.”

He gives his answer despite yours, “You think too much, always in thought worrying about things that don’t matter nearly as much as you think they do.”

“Maybe you just don’t think enough,” your retort is quick, not enjoying captain state the obvious over here.

He exhales while shaking his head, like he’s showing you pity, “I suppose you can’t help it; you’ve always been an overthinker.”

And it’s true… you’ve always had a tendency to overthink and for some reason the fact he still remembers that about you makes you feel funny. It’s like you’d half expected him to forget everything about you but time and time again he reminds you that he remembers a lot. More than you’d think he’d have noticed about you as kids.

“Hey, you okay?” His tone isn’t the same from before, no longer teasing, “You seem down lately.”

You brush him off with a smile, “I’m fine, we just have a weird friendship.”

He pouts, “I think our friendship is normal.”

“Of course you’d think that,” you roll your eyes lightly, “What I mean is, it feels weird to go from being so close to strangers back to friends again.”

“Maybe but I personally feel pretty good about it,” he smiles big, “Seeing you on campus was crazy luck and then you were so nervous you wouldn’t leave my side the whole day, it was cute. Reminded me of when we were kids.”

A groan leaves you, starting to feel warmed by your embarrassment, “Shut up.”

“I’m glad we’re getting close again,” his hand rests on top of your head and pats a few times, “Stop thinking so much about the past.”

You don’t have any problems with the past, it already happened, it’s what’s coming that has you feeling so unsettled. Gojo’s hand on the top of your head slides down to the side of your face, his hand caressing you. He grabs you and pulls you closer as he leans in, always so quick to invade your personal space like it’s also his.

He simply utters, “Stop it.”

“Stop what?” You nearly sputter at him, the proximity and intensity of his eyes making you nervous.

Those eyes narrow at you in response, “Worrying.”

You change the topic, “You need to stop getting in my personal space.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he exaggerates, “Am I in your personal space?” He moves in closer, his cheek pressing to yours, the hand on your other cheek holding you still.

You’re laughing before you have a chance to stop, struggling against him and breathlessly telling him to stop, “You’re so annoying! You’re no better now than when we were kids!”

A gasp pulls from you when you both slip in your struggle, your back meeting the couch seats. You’re expecting the heavy weight of Gojo falling on top of you and wince in preparation but when it doesn’t come you squint your eyes open. He’d caught himself with a single arm, hovering over the top of you with a large grin on his face.

The position is suggestive and has you flustered; your eyes wide as you search your brain for the right thing to say. Gojo isn’t bothered in the slightest, smile unfaltering, “It’s adorable how easily flustered you get.” He bops the tip of your nose with his free index finger.

Quickly, your expression drops, brows furrowing, “Get off me.”

Gojo can’t seem to help himself when it comes to you though, faking deep thought at your command. Eyes scanning up and down your body, “Hmm, and if I don’t?”

“I’m gonna hurt you,” threatening through clenched teeth.

It’s almost like he lights up, always enjoying going back and forth with you like this, “Promise?”

“Gojo,” you warn.

He whines at you, “Why do you still call me Gojo, use my name… like you used to.”

You’re a little taken aback by his request, you’d been trying to be polite. Your brain shuffles through the things you could say right now, something smart or funny or just giving into his request. His eyes on yours are imploring, waiting impatiently for you to call to him.

“I’m not gonna do that,” your head turns from him to avoid his gaze, having decided on defiance.

Dropping to his forearm, his head follows yours so he can stay in your line of sight. He’s pressed too close to you now; you’re getting embarrassed by his shamelessness. Your palms move to his shoulders to push him back but he’s holding steady.

“Come on,” he draws out his words, “Please, just once. Please. Please. Please. Please.”

He’s so annoying, he repeats his pleas over and over while you shake your head at him.

He changes his methods, seeing he’s not getting far with begging, “I’m not getting off you until you do.” Hand reaching for your face again, manoeuvring you so he can pull you to look at him better.

The way he’s looking at you makes your heart flutter, a pleasant feeling that upsets you. If he keeps looking at you like this, you might go insane. Against your will, your eyes flit to his lips before quickly snapping back to his eyes that are now crinkled with his too big grin.

You pout at him, “I feel like giving into you here doesn’t bode well for me.”

So obvious in how he looks to your lips, slowly tracing your features before locking with your gaze again, “That could be true but not giving in here might not bode well for you either.”

Maybe letting him win will be easier in the long run, you don’t want him becoming more difficult than he already is, “Just once…”

His eyes light up at your acquiescence, suddenly waiting so patiently for you to continue. Just as you’re about to open your mouth to hesitantly utter out his name, your apartment door swings open. Ieiri and Geto kick off their shoes and stumble into your living room. Gojo only groans and drops his head to your shoulder. Disappointed by how close he was to hearing you call to him.

You stutter and fumble over yourself at how he’s dropped onto you, your hands pushing at him, “Gojo get off me!”

“If you’re gonna invite people over maybe don’t try fucking right before,” Ieiri sighs at Gojo like his disappointment is his own fault.

Quick to dispute the accusation, “W–we weren’t doing that! He’s just all in my personal space like usual.”

“Satoru, get off the poor girl,” Geto rounds the couch and pulls Gojo up by the back of his shirt, “Don’t you put her through enough already?”

“You guys have the worst timing,” he grumbles back at him.

Geto lets him go and shrugs, “You’re the one who invited us over, maybe don’t give us a key next time or plan your flirting better.”

“I think you guys have great timing,” you smile at them both, grateful for the save. Especially since the situation was quickly slipping from you. You can’t believe you almost gave into Gojo; he’d absolutely only get worse if you had.

As you sit up properly, Ieiri comes up behind you and strokes the top of your head soothingly, “Would you like us to kill him?”

You laugh at her suggestion, “Thanks but I still need him for his half of the rent.”

Geto and Ieiri are kind and you like them, you’re still a little uncomfortable around them since they’re not your friends. They’re Gojo’s friends that he made in high school and he tends to have them around plenty enough that you’re friendly with them but not much more than that.

As you get off the couch to leave them, Gojo’s hand grabs your wrist, “Where are you going?”

“What? I…” You’re confused, “I was just gonna go to my room and leave you guys to hang out?” He pulls you back to the couch and you collapse into it. Pulling your wrist free, you slap at him, “What the hell?”

He’s unphased by your slaps of admonishment, “You’re gonna watch a movie with us.”

“Do I get a choice?”

He beams at you, “Nope.”

The other two just sigh at Gojo and his antics, moving to get comfortable on the couch themselves. You try to get up again but Gojo is quick to pull you down by the back of your shirt. “I just wanna get a blanket,” you pout at him.

The expression he makes is sheepish and cute, “I’ll get it… sorry.”

Without him in the room you feel nervous and uncomfortable, the silence between the three of you unbearable, “Uhm… sorry about earlier.”

“Don’t worry about it, living with him must test your patience daily,” Geto smiles in a way that eases your nerves slightly.

Ieiri looks around him to look at you, “What the hell was he even doing to you?”

“Ah…” you falter slightly, not sure how to tell them he was tormenting you into saying his name in a position that had suggestive undertones. Maybe overtones is more appropriate here.

“I didn’t do anything to her,” Gojo defends as he comes back into the room, “I just wanted her to say my name instead of always calling me ‘Gojo.’” He flicks the blanket out and places it down over top of you gently, “You guys ruined it though.” Grumbles coming from him as he sits down beside you again.

“You harass her too much, you don’t deserve to be rewarded for that,” Geto rolls his eyes before looking at you, “Don’t reward him for his bad behaviour.”

“I try not to,” you pointedly ignore Gojo’s sounds of offence from beside you.

Geto’s eyes sparkle with something devious as he calls you closer as if to tell you a secret. He whispers into your ear and it sends an involuntary shiver down your spine as you try to focus on his words. As you take in what he’s saying, an evil smile breaks out across your face. Gojo’s quick to get nosy, a hand on your shoulder pulling you back.

“What did he say?”

Chirping back at him, “Not telling.”

Gojo continues to hound you for a bit before Ieiri speaks up, “Can we pick a movie? I have other plans tonight you know?”

Geto agrees with her, “What genre?”

And just when you thought you’d have the upper hand for a bit, Gojo slaps you back down, “How about horror?”

The other two go along with it easily, fine with watching something scary. Apparently a newer film has just come to streaming and they’re all interested in it but while they talk about how good it seems, you’re semi spiralling. You look to Gojo, wondering if he remembers how much you can’t stand horror movies and by the shit eating grin on his face, you’re guessing that yes, he does remember this about you.

Ieiri must pick up on your hesitance, calling your name softly, “If you don’t wanna watch something scary we can watch something else.”

Geto turns to look at you, noticing your apparently obvious anxiety, “I’m cool with whatever.”

You feel awful, they came over to hang out with Gojo and they all want to watch this movie. Even though evil man next to you swayed it this way you don’t doubt they’d probably have watched it anyways if you weren’t here.

“No, it’s okay! We should watch it,” you give your best smile and they both seem placated by it, relaxing back into the couch.

A tug on your sleeve draws your attention back to Gojo, his joking expression gone. His voice lowered so the others can’t hear, “If you really don’t want to, we can watch something else… I was just teasing you.”

“I wanna watch it, I’m not a kid anymore,” you brush him off. They’re his friends and it’s his time with them, you don’t want to take that away from them.

He squints at you sceptically but jokes, “If you get scared you can always sleep with me tonight,” he winks and you dislike the way it makes you feel.

Scowling, you turn away from him but he only chuckles, pleased with your reaction. Then he’s starting the film, looking over to you a few more times before seemingly settling in his spot.

Scary movies themselves aren’t so awful, you can get through them, it’s the going to bed at night that’s less pleasant. It’s not like you think any of the monsters are real, it’s just that some small, irrational part of you has you feeling an awful dread. Laying in your bed at night and not opening your eyes for fear that something will be there looking back at you.

It's silly and something you wish you could say you grew out of but irrational fears aren’t known for being rational, the opposite in fact. It’ll be okay though, for a bit you’ll be a little scared of the emptiness of your room during the long hours of the night but that will pass.

The further into the film you get, the more antsy you become. It’s doing a good job of building tension and unsettling you and every moment that’s meant to frighten you, does. And while this is true for you, everyone else seems completely fine as they watch.

You’re actively fighting against yourself to not jump at the parts you’re meant to jump at, sufficiently scared and embarrassed over it. Nibbling at your lower lip as your eyes squint shut at a particularly loud part.

Something brushing against your hand has your eyes popping open, startling you. Looking down, you can see Gojo has slipped his hand under your blanket and blindly reached for yours. Once he’s found it, he takes your hand in his and squeezes once, his larger hand giving you a small amount of comfort.

The action doesn’t go unappreciated by you, relaxing slightly as he covertly holds your hand, hidden away from the two sitting by your side. Now every time you’re frightened, you grab at him and he simply brushes his thumb over your skin soothingly. It’s intimate and makes your heart flutter like it did earlier when he was on top of you. The movie is easier to get through like this but you can’t help but feel like your relationship with Gojo is on a precarious ledge.

When the movie is finished, your hand slips from his and you can’t help but notice his hesitance in letting you go. After that the night doesn’t go on for much longer, the four of you ordering dinner and eating before Ieiri and Geto are being walked to the door by both you and Gojo. Ieiri is ready to leave, eager for her other plans.

The way Geto looks at you reminds you of what he’d whispered to you before the film, a look of realisation crossing your features as you smile at him and Ieiri, “I had fun, bye Ieiri… S–” you hesitate before pushing through, “Suguru.”

Geto’s smile is huge as he returns your name, “Have a good night.”

Ieiri’s chuckle is quiet but doesn’t slip your notice and when you look to her, you see she’s looking at Gojo whose expression is dumbfounded. It’s like he’s an old computer slowly booting up, “Hey! Hey, what the hell!” He points between you and Geto.

Geto acts like he has no idea what’s set him off, “What?”

“We’ve known each other way longer!” Gojo whines at you.

You’re staring blankly at him, “Gojo, you’re being weird…”

“No! No, you’re being weird,” his hand clasps your shoulder, pulling you to face him instead of Geto. His other hand points to himself, “My name, say my name.”

You blink at him, “Gojo.”

He groans back at you, his shoulders slumping as he falls into you. His head sagged on your other shoulder as he laments this turn of events.

Ieiri adds fuel to the fire, “Call me Shoko.”

“Shoko,” you smile bright back at her, whether she offered just to further Gojo’s torment or not doesn’t change how happy you are to get a little closer to her.

“Oh!” She smirks at you, “My heart just skipped a beat,” she pinches your cheek, “You’re cute but I gotta go, bye.”

You wave awkwardly at her as she shuffles out the door, still being clung to by Gojo. He’s wallowing, “You have to call me by my name now, you have to.”

Geto pats Gojo’s back, you can’t tell if he actually feels bad about what he’s done or if he’s mocking him. He smiles politely at you, “Have fun with this!”

“Right… bye Suguru,” you wave him out too, now alone with a depressed Gojo who won’t let go.

Maybe you should’ve thought this through… the blowout feels like Gojo is about to get much more annoying and you’re the only one who has to live with him. “Would you get off me?”

“You’re so awful to me,” he fake sniffles.

“It wasn’t my idea, blame Suguru.”

“You’re even still calling him Suguru,” he collapses further into you, maybe he should’ve majored in theatre… since he’s so dramatic.

You sigh and stroke his hair soothingly a few times, hoping to calm him. “I’m sorry.”

He pulls back slightly to look at you through his lashes, “So you’ll call me Satoru?”

“I didn’t say that.”

He stands to his full height again, looming over you, “Why not?”

“Because you want it so bad,” a half truth, the other half is that it feels so intimate, especially now, especially with him.

“So, if I say I don’t mind, you’ll say it sooner?”

“Would you mean it?”

Thinking on it for a second before he decides, “No.”

“Then no,” you shrug and walk away from him, going to get ready for bed.

⁀ ⊹ ₊ “

The room is so silent and the dark is all consuming, you’re staring at your plain bedroom wall trying to work up the courage to roll over. The irrational fear that someone is behind you nagging in your brain, you thought since you were in such a good mood earlier that you’d forgotten about the movie but the unease is still deep in your bones.

Taking in a breath, you move quickly and roll over, flinging your legs over the side of the bed as fast as you can. Scuttling out the room, you find yourself at Gojo’s bedroom door. His offer earlier had definitely been a joke, you’re certain of that much but your room is scary and it’s worse because you’d only moved here a little while ago. It’s not like your familiar childhood home, this place still feels weird, specifically during the night.

Everything feels different at night and less recognisable and it’s made worse by how alone you feel. When something like this happened as a kid you’d at least feel soothed by the sound of someone up late watching television or the rattling of someone searching the fridge for food. This is unfamiliar and lonely and you wish you didn’t feel like this but since you do, you’re going to wake Gojo up and force him to hang out with you until you’re too sleepy to be scared.

Quietly you slip into his room, approaching his bed with light steps. His form is all spread out, making full use of his bed with his whole body, much like how he spreads out wherever he’s sat. It shouldn’t be an endearing quality but you can’t bring yourself to hate this about him, especially since he’s a fairly big guy.

He looks cute, you wouldn’t say it’s a peaceful sleep since he keeps pinching his brows as his lips move just slightly, like he’s speaking in his dream. But he looks cute, distinctly him. Staring at him like this is becoming creepy so you reach your hand to him, trying to wake him as carefully as you can.

Your touch is gentle but it wakes him easily, he’s always been a light sleeper. He rubs at his eyes with the back of his hand, making sleepy noises of confusion at you.

“I need you to wake up,” is all you say, like it explains why you’re in his room this late.

Gojo grunts at you, “What for?”

His voice is deeper than usual, words lazy with sleep. It makes your head fuzzy, enjoying how he sounds too much. Pushing aside your stupid feelings, you murmur, “I can’t sleep…”

A noise of unsurprise leaves him, eyes squinting up at you, “You should’ve just said you wanted to watch something else.”

“I was fine with watching it though.”

“And that’s why you’re waking me up? Because you’re fine?”

“I just need you to stay up with me until I’m too tired to be…” You trail off, not finishing your sentence.

Gojo finishes it for you, “Scared?”

“Will you just stay awake with me? Please?”

“No,” he slides over to the side of the bed furthest from you, “But my earlier offer stands,” he pats the empty side of the mattress.

He cannot be serious, “I’ve seen how you sleep; I think you’d suffocate me.”

Your name leaves him in an exasperated groan, “Just get in the bed, scaredy cat.”

It’s either this or go back to your empty room and as much as this feels like a bad idea, he’s making you feel better. “Stay on your side.”

“It’s my bed, the whole thing is my side,” he argues back.

Crawling onto his bed and getting under the covers you mutter, “Just don’t try to kill me with your stupid long limbs.”

“I promise nothing,” he stretches his arms up with a yawn.

A few moments of quiet pass and you assume he’s gone to sleep, his back now facing you. He’s so broad, looking at him like this makes him seem like a giant. Without really thinking it through your hand reaches for him, grabbing the material of his sleep shirt with your thumb and index finger.

Gojo mumbles, you can’t tell if you’ve woken him again or if he’d still been awake, “You good?”

Withdrawing your hand as you mutter, “Yeah… I’m just sorry… for waking you.”

He turns to face you, puff of breath leaving him when he flops onto his other side, “Don’t worry about it, I knew you didn’t handle scary movies well when I suggested one.”

“You knew I didn’t handle them well when we were kids, I’m an adult now,” you counter.

A low hum comes from him, “You’ve not changed very much.”

“You have,” he’s undeniably changed from when you were kids.

His interest is piqued, “How so?”

“You’re more annoying now,” you poke at his chest, “And meaner.”

He denies, “I am not mean.”

You look away in thought, “Hmm… maybe not mean but you’re cruel.”

“That’s worse.”

“You’re a tease,” you settle on.

He’s willing to concede, “I can’t deny that.”

“Because it’s true.”

“You get it the worst though,” he reaches for your hand poking at him, fingers unfurling yours and taking them in his.

Ignoring the way his touch makes you feel you sigh, “I have a feeling I knew this already.”

“I can’t help it; I like teasing you.” He smiles, “Your reactions are cute.” He uses his hold on your hand to tug you in closer to him, your front nearly colliding with his.

Suddenly, you’re nervous, “What are you doing?”

“Teasing you,” he answers easily, like it’s obvious.

You’re avoiding his eyes, looking to his throat, his chest, anywhere but his face, “Could you not?”

“I could,” he pauses, “but that’s not as fun.”

You’re so close to him, you rest your forehead onto his chest, “Gojo… if you’re not careful, I’ll start mistaking your teasing for flirting.”

“You wouldn’t be mistaking anything,” he half laughs, “If anything… you’d finally be catching on.”

Did you suddenly drift off or something? You pull back to look up at his face, “What?”

“I’ve been flirting with you the whole time,” he blinks at you, “to be honest I’m really surprised by how long it took you to realise that.”

Can it even be said you realised that? All you did was warn him of possible consequences, “I…”

“I’ve been laying it on thick too you know, I’m a little embarrassed for you,” he’s looking at you with faux pity.

Is he still teasing you, he might still be teasing you. Squinting sceptically at him, “I don’t know if I believe you.”

“Seriously?” He looks actually shocked; he leans down to level you with his gaze.

You frown back at him, “Stop looking at me like that.”

“I like looking at you.”

Okay, that one you could tell was flirting, “Gojo–”

He returns your name in the same tone, cutting you off. It’s tense, with your eyes locked and the now known fact that he’s been flirting with you for who knows how long. You should leave his bed but you don’t really want to. You’re so close now, not even having realised just how close you’d both moved to the other.

Gojo leans in as his hand leaves yours to instead hold your cheek, his lips pressing a soft peck to yours, once, twice, three times. When you’d caught on with his third kiss and kissed him back, he moves impossibly closer, his lips kissing you more. Feverous in how he pursues your mouth, becoming desperate in how he kisses you.

It’s making you dizzy and it’s hard to keep up with him, your hands reach for his shoulders and hold on. His hand moves for your hip, pulling at you, his lips insistent. Kiss messy and wet, his tongue licks into your mouth and you let it happen. Small noises leaving you at how good he’s making you feel from just this alone, he barely even parts to take a breath.

The hands you have on his shoulders push back; your breaths panted as you struggle to say what you want. “W–we should stop…”

He whines at you, disappointed, “Why?”

You stumble over your words, “Because it’s late and you’re sleepy and not thinking straight and–”

“–If you wanna stop that’s fine but don’t take this moment from me because of those reasons,” there’s something almost pathetic about him right now, “I’ve wanted to kiss you forever, don’t make me stop because you think I’ve not thought this through.”

His answer is surprising to you, taken aback by how needy he’s coming across. Instead of saying anything, you press a light kiss to his lips like he’d done to you. He’s quick to return it, lips demanding. His kisses are full and making you feel tingly all over, pulling a gasp from you with how he sucks your tongue into his mouth. This might make you crazy, you’re turned on and delirious.

Pressing your thighs together as slyly as possible, not wanting him to know just how worked up you are. The hand he has on your hip plays with the band of your pyjama pants, tugging them just slightly to dance his fingers along the exposed skin. Not moving any further than that, only gripping at you before sliding his hand back up.

The way he’s kissing you is breathtaking and yet also feels like he’s holding himself back, his fingers tapping against your skin as he refrains from exploring your body further. When he moves back, he nips at your lower lip and small moan slips from you. The sound pulls a visceral reaction from him, a soft groan leaving him as his head collapses onto your shoulder.

His breath tickles against your skin, “Please let me touch you.” He sounds so pitiful even to his own ears, words laced with desire.

For a moment you’re not even sure you heard him right, “What?”

He licks at your neck, shiver running down his spine, “You’ve gotta be so wet, just let me touch you, please.”

You stutter out, “I– I’m not having sex with you like this.”

Tone whinged back at you, “Fine. That’s fine, just– let me touch you.”

If you were surprised by his need before then you don’t know how you’re feeling right now, “Okay, you can–” your words are lost when he rolls you onto your back, his hands shoving your pants off. “Gojo, c– calm down.”

Eyes barely glancing at you, “Can’t.” He’s far too eager, skin buzzing with his excitement, Gojo could almost swear he’s still asleep and dreaming.

Reaching over clumsily to flick on his lamp atop the bedside table, he needs to be able to see this. Oh, and he feels breathless at the sight of you in your panties, like the wind has been knocked out of him. Lower half dressed in innocent white with a pastel little bow on the front. Almost feeling like it’s his birthday and this is his new favourite present he’s yet to unwrap.

“This what you’re always wearing under all those cute skirts?” He mutters out at you.

You’re not even sure you’re meant to have answered until his eyes flit to yours, clearly waiting for you to reply. “Uh, not– not always.”

“Gonna have to show me,” he smirks at the thought, wanting to see you in and out of every pair of panties you own.

Large hands trail up your thighs, landing at the edges of your underwear and just when you think he’s going to finally tug them off, he pulls up. Your panties moulding to your pussy obscenely, leaving nothing to the imagination with how he’d forced them up. Gasping indignantly at him, hands flying to grip his, your legs squirming. His lecherous gaze greedily eating up the view of you like this, delighting in how you’re wriggling. Beyond embarrassed at his actions, somehow feeling more exposed like this than if he’d just taken them off.

“Gojo!” You whine at him, hands clawing at his when he pulls just the littlest bit more on the material.

He bites his lip, not even gracing you with eye contact, too busy to, “What’s wrong?”

“You– you’re such a– a…”

He mocks your stumbling, “A– a– what?”

“A pervert,” you settle on.

Small, dazed giggles leave him, “Yeah, yeah I am,” a hand moves off your hip. Instead, slowly dragging an index finger through your wet slit over your panties, a low growl leaving him at just how slick you are. “Just for you though, sweetie. I’m your sick pervert.”

Your breath catches in your chest, not expecting him to be so depraved, “Could you please– hah– stop teasing.”

“I thought I made it clear that– oh fuck– I like teasing you,” in awe at just how much wetter you got when he started talking, “Hmm… I think you like it too.”

Pouting back at him, “I’d like it better if you touched me.”

“But I am touching you,” he singsongs back, barely there touch dancing around your clit.

“I was ri–right earlier,” your hips shuffle desperately to try and get him to touch where you so badly need it but he expertly avoids your movements.

Hand on your hip pushing you down flat into the mattress harshly, “About what?”

“Hm?” Your brain feels foggy and it takes you a second to remember what you’d started saying, “You are cruel.”

A breathless laugh leaves him, “Sweetheart, you got no idea.”

The devious smile he gives you has you believing him, no doubt in your mind that he could be worse than this. Regretfully, you use your trump card, “Hah– if you ma-make me cum– ah!– if you can make me–”

He takes your phrasing personally, “Oh, I can make you cum, don’t even–”

You cut him off but every time you try talking he taps lightly over your clit with two fingers, “If! Y-you can make– hng– mee~ cum, I’ll say your name.”

That gains his interest, offence gone at the promise of hearing your lovely voice murmur his name. He crawls over your body, face meeting yours, “Promise?”

Nodding your head lazily back at him, “Promise.”

“Gotta seal it with a kiss,” smile dopey as his eyes drop to your lips.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you press your mouth to his in a debauched kiss. Tongue pushing into his mouth to lick against his own, his chest vibrating with a sweet moan. Gojo feels fucked and stupid at how you’ve kissed him, not fully expecting you to press your lips to his like that. He doesn’t even want to part, mouth moving against yours effortlessly.

Realising his complete unwillingness to pull back, you do it for him, parting with a wet pop that makes his spine shudder. Gojo’s unable to help the small sound of yearning that leaves him, he would’ve been happy to die from suffocation if it meant you were kissing him like that the whole time.

“Gojo?”

Your voice shocks him back to his body, he’d been staring at you all dazed, “Now I just gotta make you cum, right?” His canines show in his grin, confident in himself.

Nodding at him, “Please.”

He snickers, “Such sweet manners, pretty,” Already shuffling back down your body, his new favourite place coming into his line of sight. Cruelly, he blows cool air on your heated core, enjoying the way you twitch at it.

Big hands pressing between your thighs and pushing them apart, making room for his large frame between them. Feeling indecent in how wide he spreads you open, even more so when he lets out a low whistle at the messy state of your panties. You’re about to admonish him for purposefully embarrassing you when he’s getting comfortable between your thighs and pressing his face into your covered cunt.

Large gasp pulling from your lungs at his shamelessness, skin growing so much hotter when you hear just how deeply he inhales. Deep groan reverberating from his chest, a sound so gutturally pleased that it makes you shy. Legs fighting against his palms, wanting to hide yourself from him and his salacious actions.

Your hands push at his head, “Oh my god, Gojo?! Could you be any more shameless?!”

He doesn’t pull back, speaking into your pussy, “Sure I could.”

Immediately following up with an example, tongue lolling out of his mouth to press up against you. Drooling onto your underwear, already wet material growing slicker. More moans tumble from his lips at the taste of you, enjoying this so much that you’re shocked by how aroused he’s making you.

“You– you’re embarrassing me.”

Only humming back at you happily, words muffled, “You’ll get over it.”

You’re not sure if you believe him, feeling so self-conscious by his brazen desire and not seeing that changing any time soon. Feeling twitchy by how turned on he’s got you from it, you shouldn’t be this into it, you shouldn’t be this into him but you are and you need him to do more to you.

Gojo feels insane, salivating over the taste of your cunt on his tongue through your panties. Poking his tongue into your hole, stopped by the material separating him from you. Simultaneously frustrated and so horny, enjoying this much more than he probably should.

Voice coming out pitchy and bitten back when you call to him, “Please– hng– take ‘em off.”

“Someone’s needy,” he accuses like he’s not about to start humping the mattress below him. Your hips wiggle down into him and he stifles an amused laugh, “let me savour this a bit longer.” And then he sucks on the material of your panties, saliva thoroughly drenching the already sopping wet garment.

Relishing in the shocked squeaks you let out at his action, finding something so addictive about all the sounds and faces you make when you’re flustered and embarrassed. All at once he grows far too impatient, the taste of you on his tongue nowhere near enough anymore, not when he knows you’re leaking divinely and honeyed sweet for him.

Hands rushed and frantic as he pulls your panties down, quickly realising that he’ll need to move to pull them off properly. He’s completely unwilling to move further than he has though so he simply tears them from your body, chucking them over his shoulder to let them fall in tatters.

“Gojo! Those were one of my fav– ah!–”

Not even bothering to listen to your full complaint, immediately diving in to slurp obscenely at your gooey cunt. His eyes roll to the back of his head when he finally tastes you directly, cock twitching in his pants as he moans. Tongue wasting no time slithering into your tight heat, feeling out of his mind as you throb and whine for him.

Why couldn’t you have realised he was flirting earlier? He could’ve been doing this so much sooner and the thought he’s been missing out makes him feel devastated. How many nights did you touch yourself while he was one door down and why is he suddenly jealous of your own hand? His tongue moves inside you and your back arches, a shaky hand reaching down for him which he takes in his own – he doesn’t want you moving him because he’s pretty sure he just found your sweet spot.

Repeating his movements just to get the same huffed moan and full body reaction he got the first time, a lazy smile on his face at the realisation. He has you wrapped around his finger now, sending you wave after wave of pleasure but never enough to make you cum. No, he’s having too much fun teasing you right now and he also knows that as soon as you cum this is over and he’s not ready to part with your gushing pussy just yet.

God, he’s like a fucking animal as he licks and sucks on your cunt, frenzied but lazy look in his eyes every time your gazes meet. He’s got you feeling like a real mess, head dizzied and heavy with the pleasure that’s soaking into your bones. Beyond turned on and so so ready to cum, at first your foggy brain thought maybe he didn’t know but now you know he’s just toying with you.

His deft tongue hitting all the right spots just until you’re about to finish only to start being evasive enough for the high to slip from you all too soon. It’s absolutely intentional and it’s hurting your feelings, why won’t he let you cum? Why does he like teasing you so bad?

Pleasured mind taking it all too personally, eyes wet and glazed when you whimper down to him, “Gojo– hah!– please– hng– please let me cum– mmph–” your voice hitches with your words, “I– I thought you wan– wanted to hear me– ah!– say your name?”

Gojo feels his dick leaking into his pants at the pitiful way you whine at him, finding it all too endearing that you’re this worked up over him. It makes him want to tease you a little more but he’s nothing if not pathetic for you and he’s all too quickly giving in to the cute sounds of you begging him to let you cum. He really could make out with your pretty pussy forever though.

Humming at your continued whimpers and pleads, trying to give reassurance that he’s about to be oh so nice to you but the vibrations have your thighs shaking so much more. Hips fighting to grind down into his face only to be steadied by his large hand on your hip, frustrated sounds leaving you at his continued resistance to help you get off.

Instead of trying to get you to understand, he’ll simply tongue fuck you until you climax. Focusing on that spot he found earlier, pressing his nose into your clit, loosening his grip a tiny bit so you’re able to grind down into him. Fuck, he might die if he lets you ride his face, to be used by you for pleasure could have him cumming untouched.

It’s perfect, it’s so perfect he just needs to not move. You try to tell him as much, “Don’t!– Don’t fffucking– I’m so– hnng!– ah!–”

You’re not even able to finish any of what you attempted to say, orgasm hitting you out of nowhere in the middle of trying to talk. Vision going dark as you shake and shiver through your climax, cunt pulsing around his tongue, desperate to be stuffed so full. You’re struggling to breathe through the best orgasm of your life, hand gripping onto Gojo’s tight as he keeps lapping at your achy pussy.

Gojo is in love with how creamy your delectable cunt is, he’s pussy drunk and feeling like he can’t stop. At least he wouldn’t be able to stop if it weren’t for the raging hard on he’s got, so hard it almost hurts. Reluctantly, he’s pulling back from your pussy and if you were just the tiniest bit more aware of your surroundings you’d feel bashful about how messy Gojo’s face is.

Not even bothering to wipe his face, tugging his shirt over his head quickly before slipping his hands under yours, not taking it off but pushing it up to expose your tits. Big hands groping at you, lightly pinching your nipples when he asks, “You still with me?”

“Uh huh,” nodding lazily back at him, limbs heavy and head buzzing. Watching him and the thinly veiled feral expression on his face as he palms your tits has you stifling down a moan.

There’s such an adorable look on your face, stupid and satisfied. Gojo’s barely holding onto his last thread of sanity, he wants to fuck you so bad but he said he wouldn’t, so he won’t. Resting a hand on the mattress he leans down closer to you, lips brushing the skin of your cheek before kissing your mouth sloppy.

You’re holding onto him, fingers digging into his shoulders. Unable to stop the small sounds he’s drawing from you, the effect he has on you sinful and unfair. Thighs rubbing together as his tongue licks at yours, low rumbles pulling from his chest. Still so horny for him but far too embarrassed to ask him nicely to fuck you.

Lips parting the smallest amount so he can ask, “Where’s my prize for making you cum?”

And now you’re remembering what you had promised if he managed to make you cum. Maybe if you were in your sane mind you’d try and wriggle your way out of it but considering he made you cum so hard you can’t even compare it to anything else, you’ll say it.

Taking a quick breath in and averting his gaze, you mumble, “…Satoru.”

His body reacts a whole lot more to that single call of his name than he thought it would, shiver running down his spine and dick twitching in his too tight sleep pants. Slumping down into you and whining, “Your voice is so pretty.”

Turning his head to the side, he latches onto your neck. Sucking a love bite into your skin, teeth nibbling at you before pulling away and licking over it.

He’d caught you off guard with it, gasp leaving you, “mmph– Gojo–”

He singsongs back, “–Satoru.” He nips at your skin lightly, “Say it again.”

His gaze on you feels heavy, watching your mouth carefully to see how the word forms, “Satoru.”

Eyes falling shut as he groans, savouring this for a moment before pulling from you and leaning back on his knees, “Sweetheart…” Large hands holding your thighs together by the knee as he asks, “can I fuck your thighs? Please?”

That was one of the last things you had expected him to ask of you, his straightforward request making you feel shy. It’s not even like you’re going to say no but you can’t have him thinking you’re too weak for him, “Aren’t you being a little greedy?”

He smiles big at you, like he already knows you don’t fully mean it, “I don’t think I’m following, pretty.”

“I agreed to say your name and that was it and now you’re asking for more…”

“I asked so nicely though,” he points out.

“You’re still being greedy.”

“Mhm,” he hums noncommittally, clearly he’s stopped paying attention. Already lifting your lower half off the bed and throwing both legs over one of his shoulders. “I’ve still not heard an answer from your pretty mouth yet.”

He’s holding you up so effortlessly, strong forearm holding onto your thighs. Free hand reaching down for the waistband of his pants. His eyes look to yours, eyebrows lifting in question, “Where’d your words go?”

“Okay,” you nod at him quickly, suddenly all too distracted by the sight of his slowly lowering pants. Happy trail far too enticing for you to even think of delaying this much further.

His hand stops moving, “‘Okay’ what?”

“Okay you can…” your eyes flit back to his hoping he’ll settle for you not having to say the whole phrase but with the expression on his face – patient and waiting – you can clearly see he’s not going to, “Yes… you can… fuck my thighs.”

He groans, pleased with your answer, “Fuck, thank you so much.”

Pants pushed down just enough for his cock to be freed. He’s so hard it looks aching, flushed a pretty shade of pink and leaking precum from the tip and down the sides. His hand squeezes the base of himself a couple times, taking deep breaths.

Tapping on your leg lightly to catch your distracted attention, “Open your thighs just a bit.”

Doing as he asked without questioning him, legs still over his shoulder as you give him room to move. He slides his cock between your thighs, resting between your cunt so wickedly that it has you fidgeting. The hand that had guided his dick grabs the outside of your leg and pushes, your thighs closing around him.

Gojo’s head tips back as he fights to keep his senses, your skin so warm and soft that he feels a little crazy. Pussy still so wet and messy for him that he can’t help but feel that go straight to his ego, you want him and that makes him feel all giddy.

Below him, you start writhing impatiently. The underside of his cock is pressed up against your clit and now you feel like you’re throbbing with the need for him to actually fuck you open. The moans that leave him are so pretty and you want to hear more, trying to move a little bit more in search of added pleasure but he’s quick to stop you.

The muscles in his arms bulge as he restrains your lower half, head dropping forward to look down his nose at you. The look he gives you makes you feel small, hole twitching at it. You need him to move right now and you need it bad, every part of you screaming for it.

“Move?” your lashes flutter up at him, “I need you– ngh– to move.”

Exasperated but all too amused breath leaving him, “You’re so needy. It’s making me dizzy.”

Frowning at his words, “I am not– ah!–”

But he’s quickly drawing his hips back and dragging his big cock through your folds before slamming forward, the whole length of him driving you insane. Between your thighs feeling so soaked, brain melting all at once.

“Fuck, fuck fuck, fuck– this is– you’re too– hnng–” Everything Gojo is trying to say is cut off by either moans or a brand-new line of thought.

With every thrust he makes you feel a little less like a person and a whole lot more desperate for him. It feels good, really good, so good that you want more. The fact that you’re aware of the fact he’s not even inside you and you’re feeling this good has your brain short circuiting. Fingers digging into the sheets, attempting to ground yourself and completely failing.

Your pussy is positively weeping for him; to be filled by him and it’s taking all of his strength to ignore the way your hole is borderline begging for his dick. Brows furrowed as he focuses on slamming between your thighs, already feeling so pitifully close to cumming like this. How he’s even held on this long is a wonder to him, too close to cumming earlier when he was tongue deep in your cunt.

Hitting your breaking point, you whimper out to him, “Gojo– hng– just put it in– hah!– you can put it in,” nodding your head desperately at him.

Chuckling breathlessly at your whining, “I thought you didn’t– fuck– didn’t wanna have sex with me like this?” He recalls your earlier assertion.

“Hnn– I– ah– changed my mind?”

Biting his lip to stop his moans enough to speak, “You’re talking outta your pussy, sweetheart.”

“I’m not, I’m not– hah!– please put it inside, please.” Worried that you’re not swaying him enough but you want it so fucking bad, insides aching for him, “Satoru, please.”

Well that’s just playing dirty, a small whine slipping from him at your use of his name, stuffing it down just so he can seem composed when he replies, “Well, when you beg me so sweetly like that how could I ever say no?”

Dropping your lower half onto the bed makes you mewl at the loss of friction and he can’t help but laugh airily at your despair. Opening your thighs obscenely just to drag his cock through your sloppy cunt, shivering at how messy you are. Little hole shuddering for him, the sight of it makes him tut.

“Are you even gonna be able to take me, hmm?” he wonders aloud to you.

You’re already nodding back at him, “You can make it fit…” eyes wet and fucked when you address him, “can’t you?”

You may as well have just shot him fucking dead, “Of course I can.” Eyes glinting in the low light of the room, “‘Course I can.”

Slowly pressing into you, opening you up so lewdly on just the tip of his cock. Your hands already reaching for him and gripping onto the hands on your hips. The amount of control he needs for this is astounding and you’re not helping with how twitchy and worked up you are. Every time you show just how much you’re enjoying this, how much you want him, he gets just that littlest bit closer to cumming prematurely.

“Sweetie,” he calls to you, words barely bitten back, “I need you to relax for me.”

“I’m trying, you’re just so–” Your eyes drawing down to where he’s picked you up and started working you open, “–big.”

Involuntarily, his hips drive forward, the tip of him finally slipping into you. The both of you let out moaned sighs, you’re fighting the urge to kick your legs, already feeling so good and nowhere near close to taking all of him.

“You’re gonna kill me, you’re trying to kill me,” he huffs out, feeling like the snug fit of your cunt might actually kill him dead right now and his only regret would be not being balls deep already.

His words are rushed and pitchy at the tail end, like he’s so close to whining about how good it feels. The soft flush on his skin is pretty, expression all twisted in so much pleasure. Looking at him is making you feel too many things, overwhelmed by his cock and how attractive he is. Bringing your hands up to cover your eyes, hiding him from your view.

Your name rolls from his tongue in a soft moan, “What are you– hah– doing?”

His slightly trembling voice has you clenching down on him, “I can’t– I can’t look at you right now.”

“Hmm? Why not?” The smile he’s definitely sporting can be heard in his tone. “Am I turning you on too much,” he taunts.

Replying hesitantly but honestly, “Yeah…”

Gojo was not expecting that from you, his ego growing tenfold from the idea alone, the confirmation only serving to make him even more unbearable. Small giggles leaving him, “How embarrassing~”

Your arms drop in exasperation, going to frown at him but as soon as your hands are off your face, he’s sliding into you a few more inches. Your brain no longer capable of thinking of anything at all, its sole purpose now registering the immense pleasure he’s giving you. Moans broken and shocked at his unexpected move, if your hips were on the mattress you have no doubt that you’d be trying to buck up into him just to take him all.

“Want my whole dick, sweetie?” He hums at you, thumbs rubbing soothingly on your hips from where he’s holding you up.

Your eyes feel wet, vision blurry, “I– hah!– want it, all of it.”

“‘Course you do,” he smirks, “so turned on just by the sight of me.”

Future you will be cursing horny you for admitting that to him so easily, he will absolutely be reminding you of this later. “Sh– shut up.”

“You sure you want me to?” A single brow quirking in your direction, “I think you like my voice, pussy squeezes me so nice when I talk to you.”

And then he’s slowly sinking into you inch by delicious inch, taking care as he does, cautious of how your tight, little hole swallows his cock. Drooling at the lewd sight of your pussy bulging around him, small and bitten back noises leaving him as he pushes into you.

You’re taking him so well, wrapped so perfectly around him, sinfully wet and soft. Cunt so greedy in how you suck him in that he might pass out, trying to focus so hard on filling you completely before he blows his load.

Damn near whimpering when his pelvis hits yours, struggling so bad to hold completely still, softly grinding into you. His whole body feels like it’s buzzing, ears thumping as his blood rushes in his head. Completely elated to be so deep inside you, even more so to see the way you squirm under him.

Your eyes already look so fucked out and dumb, lashes fluttering, struggling to keep them open. Everything feels raw and exposed, mind numbed and complacent, “Move– hnng– you need to– hnn– move.”

“Wait,” he groans, eyes closing to control his breathing, whines still trapped in every breath he takes.

“But–”

“–So cute, you’re so cute– hnng– and you feel fucking fantastic, too good that I need– hah– a moment to breathe before I cum inside you, okay?” He rushes out, words tumbling over each other just so he can adequately warn you that he’s certain this will end early if he starts moving any more than this.

That was cute of him, his bitten back words and grit teeth followed by soft sounds of feeling just so good has your heart jumping in your chest. Struggling so hard to be patient right now, beyond worked up, pussy absolutely throbbing around him. So slick and only getting wetter, especially when he’s admitted to feeling so good from sitting balls deep that there’s risk of him cumming before he wants to.

Maybe distracting him will work, “I’m glad… we got to get closer again.”

“Oh, we’re close alright,” he snarks, looking down at where he’s fucked so deep inside your pussy that it should be criminal.

“You’re such a pervert,” you complain, “I was trying to help.”

Leaning down, he rounds his arms under and around your body, hugging you flush to him. He doesn’t let go of you even as he rises, cock pulsing so hot inside you as he kneels on the bed. You’re clinging onto him so tight, praying that he doesn’t drop you.

“You’re gonna drop me,” you worry.

Nuzzling his face against your cheek, “I wouldn’t do anything to risk losing the tight heat of your pussy, sweetie.” Planting a sloppy kiss to your cheek and then your lips, “Just make sure to hold on tight.”

“You can’t drop me,” you assert.

He soothes, “I won’t.”

Lips locking with yours again, the urge to kiss you sitting too heavy in his chest to ignore. Tongue licking against your own languidly, kissing you so softly, taking his time. Mouth hot and wet as his lips smack against yours, his cock jerking inside you at how it feels to have his lips on yours.

Every part of you is buzzing, his kiss much more gentle and caring compared to the frenzied and needy way he had kissed you earlier. It’s making your heart feel weighted, this shared moment where he’s so deep inside you and kissing you so sweetly feeling so tender that it almost hurts.

Keeping his mouth on yours as his arms move from behind you to grip your thighs, he’s not even sure you register the change, still kissing him back so devotedly. And all he can think about is how bad he’s got it for you now, nipping at your lower lip to make you gasp before kissing you full again.

Hips pulling back, the slow drag of his heavy cock making your spine shudder. Keening into his kiss, lips dropping from his to moan.

“You’re so pretty,” he compliments low to you just before he slams back into you all at once.

The breath you’d had in your lungs exhaled so fast it makes your head spin, pathetic and whingey mewls the only thing leaving you. The compliment he’d given you making you feel a sickening kind of gooey fondness, feeling bashful at his sincere words. His kindness juxtaposed by the harsh way his dick is fucking into you.

Soft and delirious giggles leaving him, “You liked that~” He purrs, head dipped so his lips drag against your collar bone, “I’ll remember that.”

“D– don’t know– hnng!– what you’re talking about,” you babble back.

He coos at you, “I’m talking about– hah– how you liked being told– fuck– how pretty you are while I’m stuffing you oh so full.”

And you really wish you could lie to yourself about how much you like it, but your body is betraying you so severely, cunt gripping him tighter and gushing that bit slicker. Wet sloppy sound of him fucking you hard filling the room, squelching messy and lewd and embarrassing. So turned on that it doesn’t even matter, barely managing to garble out his name, moaning it over and over like a chant.

Back to being so horny and out of your mind that you can’t bring yourself to care about how needy and desperate you’re coming across. Hanging onto him for dear life as he thrusts so fast and deep that you’re seeing stars. His grip on your hips using you as if you’re a toy for him to fuck.

Tip of his cock hitting your cervix with each re-entry, hitting against every delectable inch inside you so completely and effortlessly that you’re starting to drool. “I– You’re so– ah!– deep!”

“Am I?” He stops thrusting, sitting as deep as he can go inside you, single hand drawing up to your stomach, “That means you can feel me here?” and then he’s pressing down.

You grip onto him tighter, clinging desperately, nodding fervently, “Mhm– yes– yeah–”

“–Already close, huh?” He notes. Your reaction so visceral, cunt pulsing around him rhythmically.

“Keep moving?” You rest your head on his shoulder, speaking into his skin, “Please, ‘Toru.”

Evil, that nickname for him on your tongue is so wicked and he doesn’t even think you realise you’ve just called him that. “You’re sending me to an early grave,” he mutters.

Hand back on your thigh in no time, lifting you with ease to keep fucking you breathless. Feeling absolutely devastated by how adorable you are, by how needy you are. Cunt positively creaming around him, saccharine sweet as your pussy begs for him over and over.

Tongue lazy in your mouth at you stutter out calls of his name, starting to have trouble holding onto him effectively. Gojo is the only thing stopping you from slipping back onto the bed, drooling onto his skin. Mindlessly, you press a soft kiss to his shoulder, and you just barely hear the mewl he lets out because of it.

He’s so close to cumming, your loving kiss on his skin causing everything inside of him to go weak for you. “Sweetie, you feel so good– hnn– so so soso good,” he’s drawing in a shaky breath, “and now I need you to cum so good for me, yeah?”

Practically begging for you to cum on him, needing to feel it but you’re so out of it that you can’t reply coherently. Every word a sputtered whimper that you couldn’t stifle down without a hand on your mouth. You’re a complete mess and he feels so much overwhelming pride over the fact that he’s done that to you.

The only sounds you can hear anymore are the soft and sighed whines of Gojo holding back his orgasm, the lewd slapping of skin against skin, and the pleasant thrumming in your ears. The noises you assume you’re making not even fully registering to you, much preferring to hear Gojo’s anyways.

So close you can taste it and when he starts giving little rutted grinds of his hips every time your pelvises meet, you’re done for. Crying out broken moans as your cunt pulses hot and wet around him, cumming so hard you lose focus, vision dark and hazy and fucked so stupid.

You’re gripping him so tight, pussy trying to desperately milk him of everything he’s got. Veins in his cock throbbing against your walls so sinfully. Feeling so fucking sensitive with how he’d been holding back from cumming pretty much since he put his mouth on you.

Urgently, he gets your attention, “I’m gonna fucking– hnnn– cum, I need to– hah– I need to put you down so I can pull out.”

You only cling onto him tighter and shake your head, legs closing around him firmer, “Cum like this.”

And even if he wanted to argue with you a little more… he couldn’t. The lazy way the words formed against his skin and the cute way you’re drooling on him as him cumming so suddenly. Forcefully slamming into you a final time, dumping all of his cum so deep inside you and painting your walls an obscene creamy white. Hands gripping your thighs so hard that he thinks he might leave bruises of his hand prints behind. That thought alone making his dick twitch even more.

Feeling so boneless as he very carefully lays you down on the bed, his breaths coming fast against your skin as he reels from his own orgasm. Staying like that for a moment, pressed so close to you while you both come down from your highs. Aware enough to hold himself up by an arm so he doesn’t crush you under his weight.

As he goes to pull away he quickly realises you’re not about to let him go, “Gotta let me go, sweetheart,” he mumbles.

Brain taking a second to catch up to what he’s just said and the fact that you’re still clinging onto him, “Hm?... oh… m’sorry.”

His heart seizes in his chest, and he can’t help but press sweet kisses to your lips over and over, humming happily against you. Your grip loosens on him, and he fights against himself to pull back, there’s something he really wants to see.

Sitting back just to watch as he pulls out of you, his seed leaking from your gooey hole as he does. Shuddering at the view of it, his lecherous gaze lighting up at how much he’d cum inside you. As if on autopilot, his fingers collect what’s leaking from you and stuff it back inside, stroking against your inner walls.

His intention far from innocent, perverted touch making you twitch and whine. So hypersensitive from everything he’s put you through, one of your own hands reach down for his and grab at his wrist, trying to stop him.

“What’s wrong?” He asks through a smile.

You whimper at him, “Too sensitive, ‘Toru.”

Oh and there’s that nickname again, the one that make his heart skip a beat. “You’re okay, sweetie,” he hums as praise, “doing so well for me, you can cum one more time can’t you?”

You shake your head but your grip loosens and his grin grows wide on his face, he’s never forgetting how reactive you are. Still, he’s careful with you, he knows he just fucked you within an inch of your life, touch gentle as he fingers your pussy full of him.

Scissoring his fingers and gently rubbing circles into your clit with his thumb, “Your pussy is divine.” He continues cooing at you more, “Took me so well, so greedy for me, hm? So wet and tight, had me feeling like I was going crazy…”

You want to tell him to shut up, that he’s so embarrassing and shameless but your words won’t come. Mouth too occupied with letting loose the scandalous cries of pleasure you’re feeling, damn near pornographic in nature.

Back arching meanly only to be pushed right back down by his hand on you, trailing it from your sternum down your torso to just over your lower stomach. Lustful and plotting grin on his face when he pushes down, more of his cum leaving you only for his fingers to pull out to stuff it all back in.

It’s like he’s playing with you, getting a sick kind of enjoyment out of watching you squirm and leak with his seed. Already you’re so close again, barely having come down before he started finger fucking you, sensitive and dopey.

“Someone’s getting close,” he singsongs to you, the clicking sounds of him playing with your sopping wet cunt making your skin hot with shame.

Gojo puts effort into focusing in on that one spot he found earlier when he was tongue deep in your pussy, stroking you over and over, elated by the shocked and fucked look on your face. Body fighting so hard against its own pleasure and yet still greedy and begging for more.

Eyes rolling to the back of your skull as you cum yet again, struggling to breathe through it, whining out Gojo’s name over and over like how you did earlier. Twitchy and high strung and so so sensitive, thighs closing around his hand as you shake through your orgasm.

Forearm covering your eyes as tears slip from your waterline, everything feels so raw and electric and hot. Unable to even hear properly with how your head is rushing, all your senses dulled and simultaneously on edge.

Gojo tickles his touch up the outside of your thigh and you jerk at it, “Atta girl, did such a good job,” he compliments.

“I died,” you huff out.

“You didn’t die,” he wipes his fingers on your thigh, before crawling up your body.

You continue to complain, “You killed me.”

“I would never,” pulling back the arm hiding your face from him, “I like you far too much for that.”

Your only response back are begrudged grumbles that you don’t really mean. It’s hard to play angry at him well when you’re so high on your pleasure, body buzzing so pleasantly and head still dizzyingly content.

He smiles fondly at you before kissing you sweetly, lips lingering for a moment and then stating, “I’ll be back.”

And then he’s gone, and you’re left on the bed swimming in the relaxed and satisfying feeling thrumming through every inch of your bones. He shuffles around his room for a moment, changing into a clean pair of pants before scuttling out the door quickly.

Semi confused on where he’s gone until he comes back with a glass of water and a towel in the other, “Can you sit up for me?” You lay still for a moment, and it prompts him to check, “You can’t?”

“I’m thinking,” you don’t really want to get up, but you do, slowly dragging you body up to rest against his headboard.

He hands you the glass, motioning for you to drink while he sits down by your legs. Using the towel to gently wipe between them, careful not to touch you where you’re too sensitive. you finish the water and set the glass down on his bedside table where his lamp is lighting up the room.

Glancing down you quickly realise your shirt is still rolled up over your tits haphazardly, it suddenly feels dirty, you want a new shirt. “Gojo, can you grab me a shirt from my room… please?”

“Hmm?” He looks up to you and shamelessly stares at your tits, to which you cover them with your arms and frown, “I’m wiping my cum from between your thighs but you’re suddenly too shy for me to look at your tits?”

It’s not logical but that’s exactly how it feels, “Yes.”

Playfully, he rolls his eyes but gets up, discarding the towel in his hamper. He doesn’t go to your room though, simply tugging a shirt from one of his drawers. Walking back over to you with it in hand, “Arms up.”

Thoughtlessly, you do as he asks without question, arms raised up and waiting. Of course he takes the opportunity to blatantly stare at your chest, “Hey!” Your arms drop down.

An unapologetic giggle from him, “Sorry, sorry. Raise ‘em up again.”

You pout but you do lift them again and this time he actually takes your shirt off, it gets chucked over with the towel and the fresh shirt he grabbed is pulled over your head. It hangs off your frame and is clearly not your size but it’s comfy and soft and it smells like him.

Suddenly you’re feeling sleepy, eyes blinking slow as you struggle to keep awake. Something that changes when Gojo simply picks you up off his bed and starts walking out the room with you.

Yawning as you rest your head on him, “Where are we going?”

“To your bed, someone made a huge mess of mine,” he grins.

“And whose fault was that?”

Quirking a brow at you, “I’m pretty sure it’s yours.”

Feeling bashful as you pointedly look away from him, “Shut up…”

You both get into your bed beside each other, and you can’t help but snuggle into him, he’s so large and warm and it’s not even like you could avoid it because he was quick to wrap an arm around you and pull you snug to him.

Yeah… this friendship was definitely on a precarious ledge, and you tumbled right over the edge of it…

𝒂.𝒏. meow meow meow i hope you enjoyedddd,, this had been sitting in my writing folder since the middle of january and i couldn't wait anymore. i needed it finished and it's technically not because i had so many roommate gojo ideas that i couldn't add :< anyways !! THANKS FOR READING ILY❕

[⚠︎] — 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈.ᐟ do not reupload / repost / translate / plagiarise my works © all works are the intellectual property of lovelivision

#visionwrites #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader smut #gojo x reader #gojo x reader smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo smut #satoru x reader #satoru x reader smut #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader smut #gojo satoru x you smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader smut #jjk x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #gojo x you smut

3K notes · View notes