#this is like my little notebook but actual people get to actually here these things and idk if that’s good or not | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

screampied · 5 months

Text

‘ #KNOCK(HER)OUT ! ’

ᡴꪫ‎ sum. you get more than what you bargained for by getting involved with two boxers—two boxers that can’t keep their hands off the pretty new journalist. what happens in the ring stays in the ring though…. right?

wc. 5.7k

warnings. fem! reader x t. fushiguro & s. ryōmen, boxer!au, thrēesome, manhandling, unprotected, semi public, size kink, ōral (f & m receiving), head lock, spīt, sqūirting, they fight over you, brēeding, fīngering, implied multiple ōrgasms, nipple play.

an. based on this ask, haven’t recovered since :,)

sukuna ryōmen and toji fushiguro. . .

the talk of the town. top most infamous boxers of your city, they were supposedly rivals but ended up becoming super close friends. 'friends' was probably a stretch. acquaintances was probably a far better word to describe the two. there was hardly anyone that didn’t tune into your detailed magazines about them—your occupation? a journalist. you’d be the first to write about their fights, their strengths, weaknesses, their total wins & losses, and even a few unnecessary things like their love life. you were new, but you were good. always in the front row, you’d watch them spar against some of the most scariest opponents imaginable. something about guys taking it out in the ring right before your eyes got your panties in a twist. how unprofessional..

you only did it for the money, the publicity— a lot of people adored your skill to make such stories so interesting. between toji and sukuna, they were almost always compared, and oh did they hate it. ex rivals continuously pinned against each other, it’d piss anyone off. although, you were in dire need for a new story topic to write and you just so happen to stumble into their private gym.

“yo,” a rough sly yet cunning voice mutters, and it’s so deep—you recognize it from anywhere, toji fushiguro in the flesh. “are ya lost? no fuckin’ autographs.”

“don’t be rude, ‘toj,” and your eyes avert towards sukuna— he’s a few inches taller and your eyes roam at them both. they had droplets of sweat racing down their washboard abs, scars coating their skin with ruffled hair as if they’d just finished a match. sukuna drags his feet towards you before his eyes light up. “ohh, i know you,” he snickers, grabbing your notepad before nudging his friend. “she’s our little journalist toji. and she’s a damn fine one too..”

“. . . uh,” was all you could make out, feeling a sudden tightness in your stomach. your eyes continue to stare, your lewd thoughts only become more and more vulgar. seconds pass before you realize sukuna took your notebook, toji pauses his sets to get a good look at you. “i thought this was the ladies' room.”

“girl bye,” toji grumbles with two hands buried into his shorts pockets— he reads right through you as if you were some sort of exposed novel. people said he was a lot sassier in person but you didn’t think it’d actually be true. green dark eyes linger onto you for a long time before he stretches, leaning down to get a good glimpse at your figure. “did you come here just to stare or what?”

you were taken aback at how blunt he was.

a coy grin appears on his lips as he watches you struggle to formulate a good enough response.

you were nosy, you were really really nosy. for once, perhaps you didn’t wanna just jot down things about these two— just maybe, just maybe . . you wanted a hands-on experience.

“i… needed new material for my article before the next match starts,” you utter, squeezing your thighs together. sukuna tilts his head, eyeing you in a way that makes you feel hot. toji’s stare was ten times more intimate, darkened irises practically staring right into your soul—you knew this wasn’t the bathroom, you were lying. “i was hoping maybe you’d give me some uh . . inspo.”

they were both towering over you with height, you felt small—like an ant that was preparing itself to be crushed by a villainous shoe.

“inspiration, she says?” sukuna hums, his voice is low—raspy, an almost purr hiding underneath it before he moves closer towards you. “just tell us what you really want, princess.”

“nah don’t get all shy now,” toji chimes in once he sees you grow more sheepish. they both close in on you—you felt like you were trapped in a fever dream, you weren’t exactly complaining either. they smelled so good, a mixture of sultry sweat and a loud scent of heavy cologne that wafts throughout the entire training room. “you got our attention so spit it out, girl.”

“i— i want you both.” you finally mutter after seven long consecutive seconds. with the way toji’s staring right through you, you felt like your stomach sank between your legs - your legs that were throbbing with nothing but mere arousal, again perhaps this was unprofessional. no, it was very unprofessional—but anyone would kill to be in your position, being sandwiched between the top two boxers of your city.

sukuna snickers. “both? what makes you think i’d wanna share with this bum?”

“shut up,” toji snarls, and the way his facial expressions tense a bit—so attractive. the headlines + press was right about toji, he was a lot more handsome in person. he was a fairly new boxer yet a pure lady's man. he’s had a plethora of fangirls while in the ring and maybe you were one of them. as he inches towards you with a hand softly gripping underneath your chin, he inhales. his entire facial structure, so chiseled—brief dark stubble coats the entirety lower half of his jaw and he rubs his left boxing glove against his left knee. “that really want you want? both of us?” and his voice softens. it’s a bit more pitchy and low, and he sneers. “on me, look at me when you reply too, girl.”

your lip gradually pulls down from his thumb playing against it. you felt so hot, the air suddenly felt thick.

a sudden lump gets caught in your throat before you mumble. “i want you both,” and your eyes meet the dark-haired boxer, simultaneously glancing at his attire— shirtless, boxing shorts on with his custom-made ‘fushiguro’ briefs wilting near the top—only showing the hem part. just a teensy detail like that was so enticing that you even spot a few parts of his exposing snatched waist. only after awhile you then abruptly snap out of your vulgar fantasm. “…please.”

“the real question is, pretty little journalist,” sukuna steps in, a hand stroking against your chin. you didn’t know where to even look. both boxers had their hands on you and the tightened squeezing between your plush thighs grew even more. “can you handle both?”

“yes.” you’d speak in a soft voice, most likely as of now you were probably speaking from between your legs—you didn’t care though, everyone’s a little delusional at some point. emphasis on a little in your case, because you had no idea what you were getting in to with these two.

toji snickers. “hm,” he mutters, eyes focusing on you for a long time before he raises his chin. “fine. let’s test your strength then,” and he briefly gazes at sukuna. “sukuna. we can take her ‘n the ring.”

and they mean it quite literally— taking you, the both of them versus you, except you weren’t relatively fighting.

not in that sense, but it was versus an opponent that was throbbing between your thighs.

the arena was empty, about a good hundred or more vacant blood-shot red seats scatter everywhere.

inside the ring, it was a mere raised platform, guided and shaped by strong stringy ropes that were yanking between poles at each side and corner. you lay on the spongy canvas of the ring’s floor before biting back a moan.

“scared yet?” sukuna hums, and he props himself right between your legs. this was risky—entirely risky, anyone could just walk in. besides, you were pretty sure they had a match in about a good forty-five minutes. with sprawled-out legs, he moved closer before dragging a thumb down your panties. his voice was a bit deeper than toji’s, they both shared the same amount of rasp.

sukuna had the charm, toji had the suaveness.

you shake your head, feeling yourself grow even hotter the more he stalls time. it feels warm, the entire air around you is humidly thick and you whine as he teasingly bites your panties. not enough to pierce his teeth into your folds, but he bites near the fabric—you watch, the string of your underwear slowly dragging with him. yet, you can’t help but glance at toji who’s just standing there—arms crossed and that same scowl that stuck against his face. “mhm,” he jibes, eyes flickering towards toji. “toji. she’s looking at you.”

“i know she fuckin’ is,” he grumbles, and your head tilts upward. you’re face first with his bulge that was right against your face. talk about space, it was right there. such a big bulge, who were you even kidding though—you found yourself gawking at his bulge at every match he had. with the skin-tight shorts he’d worn, you just knew he was nothing more than a packer. “nosy girl. y’er mouth bored or somethin’?” and he watches your hands paw at the hem of his tucked-out briefs. “need a bit of throat training, huh?”

sukuna’s playing with your panties still. by now, he’s peeling them towards the crevices of your thighs and you whine whilst you feel a thumb of his drag down your honeyed slit. sopping wet, just a three-second stare and he was suddenly esurient.

“look at me, not him,” toji lightly turns your head to face back up to him again. his bulge, his damn bulge that was right up against you. you nod, feeling your mouth dry—you wanted your throat to be filled, it wasn’t even a question. toji gruffs lowly, moving your chin side to side. “huuuh? girl, i don’t speak silence. thought i told ya how to use those words when you speak.”

“i- i wanna suck you off, ‘toj,” and you get cut off once he pulls his boxing shorts down halfway, bringing your face close to his briefs. you’re taken by surprise once he makes you rub your face against his hardened bulge—you moan, as if on instinct, your tongue lolls out just to taste him. even if it’s just the clothed fabric protecting his actual cock, it was something.

he scoffs. “y’er a nasty girl, huh,” he mumbles, peering down to see sukuna starting to lick against your cunt. your legs quaver upon impact and you slump back against the corner of the ring. “can’t wait, yeah. want me to train this empty throat? maybe it’ll make ya a better journalist, nosy ass.”

you’d almost laugh at his little side remark if it wasn’t for sukuna’s tongue lapping against your slick entrance. your lips part as you lean back, a hand going through his hair. “mphm,” he grunts, one hand squeezing the right part of your thigh. “sweetest taste i’ve had in a . . . looong while.” and he’s so sloppy, not even a few seconds pass before he’s already slurping. your panties were lazily shoved to the side and that’s when toji hauls down his briefs.

you gulp, damn.

he wasn’t just big, he was huge…

your mouth starts to salivate the more you stared at the swollen shaft. toji was a big guy . . hence meaning, toji he was a thick guy.

staggering height and a fat base to back it up, he had about two veins running down the side. his tip was a reddish pink, you could already taste him throbbing in your mouth. toji was quite well shaved a bit— though, it was a few specks of black hairs scattered everywhere. however, his happy trail was so pleasing to look. it roams all down his sculpted body, he sighs once you slowly wrap a hand around his cock.

“spit the fuck on it.”

five words and you didn’t hesitate to roll out your pink tongue once more.

you gather a good amount before watching it coat against his pink sweet tip. he groans, watching your hand stroke him a bit. he was so big, so fucking big that you could barely wrap your entire hand around his dick. toji groans, watching you make a total mess out of yourself. pretty glossy lips, pretty glossy lips that would soon be wrapped around his hefty length.

once you get it wet enough, you gently move your mouth onto him. he hisses, the warmth of your throat has his abs clenching.

“m-mhm,” you’d moan out, though your words were purely muffled. sukuna’s sucking on your clit, occasionally nipping and nibbling on it just to make you squirm even more. it was cute— the way your legs could barely hold still, so this was your weak spot. it’s what he thought to himself, lapping his tongue against your slick entrance. brief kisses coat near your folds before he maneuvers such circles against your pussy. feeling his canines nip against your folds every few seconds had you feral in the best way possible.

“y’er makin’ her squirm all over, ‘kuna,” toji lowly chuckles, such baritone in his voice that it makes you soak even more. you didn’t even know how it was possible with the way you were just profusely dripping like a faucet. not even—you put faucets to shame with how slick you were, quickly coating the lower part of sukuna’s chin with your syrupy taste. “open that mouth a ‘lil more, yeah . . . yeah,” and he tilts your head back a bit, prying your mouth open some more. he starts to slowly sink his cock in, so slow. the pace was incredibly tantalizing, your tongue runs against his slit before he pushed more inches inside. “fuckkk, girl,” he continues to grunt out, knees already starting to buckle. the way you took him in, hollow cheeks all puffed, you were already starting to drool a bit. small amounts of your saliva trickle past the corners of your lips as he goes deeper and deeper. deeper until his tip ends up mashing against your uvula and you gag.

“. . ooooh,” he hums, and just a simple noise as that was so seductive. “good…. good,” he swallows, a hand digging through your hair before maintaining a good grip against it. “now . . let’s test this pretty throat’s durability, hm.”

your little nod makes his sly smile widen, your jaw hangs and he starts to gradually piston his hips. such a mess, he was just so big that you were surprised all of it even fit.

“alllll the way down, shit,” your head starts to move, bobbling as your tongue swiftly running against his pulsating head. he gnashes his teeth together, dim eyes flickering towards your hands. you were feeling hot yourself so you made a cute attempt at reaching between your legs. doing so only greets you to a soft concise smack.

“hands to yourself, silly girl,” sukuna grumbles, and this time he grabs your wrist. he simpers, watching you try to even still rub one out but with his grip, you weren’t getting anywhere. as your mouth was occupied with such inches, you whimper once you feel sukuna spank your cunt a few times. “don’t touch my pussy.”

one turns into two, then three, then four. . .

your pretty cunt starts to become his new obsession—the way you’d squelch for him so easily, he gets hard in his boxers. so wet, he knows the layout as if he’s so used to doing this. you wouldn’t be surprised, especially with a tongue like he had. lapping left and right, he parts your legs just a bit farther before the tip of his tongue swirls all around it. he lays it flat, getting a good enough taste before giving it yet another mean spank.

you whimper, feeling your tummy cave in before toji makes you face him once more. “eyes up here, eyes on me,” and he sounds almost jealous the more you focus your attention strictly on his boxer acquaintance. you’re still stroking him, a thumb sliding down a vein that prods alongside his shaft and he groans. your throat, so warm that he starts to feel his right thigh bounce. “should be . . usin’ this throat for shit like this instead of running that mouth.” his voice pitches lower, boxer shorts pulled down and his hair was slightly ruffled. you stare up at toji and he gives you that same cunning smirk. oh, you were soaked. again, this simply felt like a fever dream. even if at the slightest chance that you were dreaming, you never wanted to wake up.

toji’s quite talkative throughout the entire thing, sukuna’s dragging you further and further onto your incoming release and your legs start to rapidly shake even more. you whine and mewl out such sweetened moans, occasionally coming back up for air as you kept his cock warm in your mouth. each time it hits the roof of your mouth, you let off a straddled noise and he finds it so cute, so filthy.

“relax y’er throat, girl,” he mutters, a firm grip on your scalp. with glossy eyes, you follow his words and you stop gagging a bit. he grunts, getting hard every time your pretty eyes make direct contact with him. “such a pretty girl when you listen.” and his tone gets a bit more sensual, more tender.

you whine, feeling sukuna insert a single finger inside of you—you swallow his digit almost immediately and you cringe at hearing your own salaciously lewd squelches.

soaking, sopping wet,

three perfect words to describe between your legs, you choke out a moan once you feel that sensation brew right up inside your stomach. steadily, it was coming closer and closer. you’re breathing through your nose—feeling a few of his pubic hairs tickle against you. you’re moaning, eyes becoming half-lidded and droopy. toji had a mere pout stretching against his face and he felt himself coming close too.

the icing on the cake was your tongue, the way you swirl and slide it against his frenulum—he groans out a low grunt that rings throughout the arena. it reverberates, it's raspy and it only makes you even more aroused. “s-shit, you close too?”

you nod, and toji jeers, finding it amusing to taunt with you as you’re about to reach your inevitable peak. “yeah? gonna make a mess on ‘kuna’s face?”

“told ya don’t call me that,” sukuna grouses, resuming to pump not one but two fingers into you now—you’re almost there. it’s a hot feeling stirring up near your lower abdomen, a pool of it. your eyes start to roll, still slobbering down toji’s cock before he starts to thrust and thrust into your mouth.

“make me.” toji stared at him—and the both of them grew quiet before laughing with each other.

idiots.

your maw opens just a bit wider, and he’s shoving himself in and out of your tight throat—the noises that follow are so lewd, he finds you so pretty like this. mascara all smeared and runny, your hand continues to wrap around his length—his sagged base, so full. you start to salivate again, imagining what his taste was like. you craved it like you crave sweets, sukuna’s tongue running against your clit only made things far more intense before you start to convulse.

“f-fuckkk, ‘m gonna cum,” toji rasps, tilting your head back a bit more. you stare at him, tongue still grazing against the pulsing slit before after a few more pumps—he shoots a nice velvety load into your mouth. he grunts lowly, nostrils flaring up, jaw tightening and all. “. . damn,” he swallows, allowing himself to slow down. you end up finishing around the same time, costing sukuna’s mouth with a honeyed amount of your slick and he hums. you whimper, legs barely able to hold themselves up before you feel toji’s dick pour the remnants of his cum flat on your tongue. “nah, don’t fuckin’ swallow yet. stick it out, lemme see that shit.”

your legs felt like they were about to fall off, sukuna’s kissing near your now swollen entrance and you slowly loll out your tongue. obeying, you didn’t exactly swallow yet and he hums. “best savor that shit,” he groans, giving his veiny cock a few subtle strokes before he smacks his angry tip against your tongue. “and where’s my thank you for the meal, baby?”

“t—thwak y—you toji,” you speak, barely coherent with his seed splattered all on your tongue. you didn’t wanna spill any, and if you did—you didn’t wanna stick around to find out his reaction.

“yeah,” he huffs. “you can swallow now. get every drop in.”

sukuna moves towards you, you’re still laid on the ring’s mat before he softly wraps a hand around your throat. “hey. don’t let this bastard have all the fun, i want a taste too,” and you're taken by surprise once he pulls you into a deep steamy kiss. you moan, feeling him quite literally take your breath away. your tongue drags against sukuna’s chin, the bitterness. a concoction mixture of your saliva and his mixes, and you whine once he snakes a hand up your blazer. you taste yourself on his tongue and it’s so dirty, hot breaths mash against each other, teeth gnashing, and only then do you feel his cunning smirk.

“no one told you to hog her,” toji grumbles, pulling you back towards him. you briefly gasp for air and they both stare at each other, then you. “tell me, baby. who’d you think win in a fight? me or this . . . thing.”

sukuna glares.

“i don’t … know,” you pant out, heaving from your current orgasm—so cute, yet you only wanted more. from kissing sukuna to having your throat entirely filled, you didn’t know which was better. “can we finish?”

“aw, is someone impatient?” sukuna titters, and you stare at his glistening body—beads of sweat race down his precious v-line, the ideal body for a boxer. you just couldn’t stop staring at his pecs, so chiseled. you even thought his pictures were edited, but seeing them up close . . you wanted him, you wanted both of them. “hm. how ‘bout this? we teach you a few ah, moves. full nelson to start, ‘s pretty easy.”

easy, sure.

with it all being easy, you’d least expect to be put into a full nelson position. a mere popular wrestling position, although you’d be performing it with no one other than sukuna.

he’d have you slump back against him, hooking both arms underneath your thighs as you’re taking such mean thrusts from him. time and time again, you’re spasming out. mouth all open, saliva running down the very corners of your lips before you moan. “s—sukuna, oh my godddd,” and you glance up at toji who’s got a cute pout, stroking himself. you lost count of the time, it’s probably been about a good thirty-three minutes by now, thirty plus minutes of various teeth shattering orgasms. your head hits back against him and each time his tip smacks against your cervix, you short circuit. “fuck, fuck, right there, hit it thereee.”

“you coachin’ me how to fuck, dumb girl?” he chortles with a groan shortly following—he was so deep, the heftiness of his base taps against you each time you bounce back against his cock. he sucks his teeth, the way you easily took him had him groaning all up against your ear. “gotta get a little more stretchy, we gotta . . hah, work on your flexibility too, huh.”

“sukuna hurry the fuck up. watching you fuck my girl ‘s boring as shit,” toji grouses, pumping his cock into his fist every few seconds—you stare and he’s so needy, you could tell. his scowl he had earlier forms into a cute pout, dark eyebrows furrowing together and he’s growing impatient.

you caught that though. ‘my’ girl.

who would have thought toji . . the womanizing boxer who’s never had time for any woman throughout his career would start batting for you?

“your girl?” sukuna snickers, resuming to hold your legs up a bit further. he reaches so deep, that your stomach starts to seize and your maw drops. hooded eyes, your lashes flutter and you felt continuous strained breaths get yanked from your lungs. “your girl yet she’s gettin’ fucked by me? the better boxer?”

toji snarls, and he kneels to kiss you. you moan, barely able to return the gesture since you were in the midst of taking sukuna. with being gifted with such sharp thrusts, you dig your nails into his thighs before running tangling your tongue alongside toji’s. his breath was warm, you whine once you feel one of his hands stroke your cheek.

“aha, look at him. already whipped before me,” sukuna snickers, feeling you sink and gape around him—he stretched you out so good already, it was so relentless. each time you bounce back against his lap, the ringing in your ears grows louder and louder. he feels his dick twitch inside you. seeing you make out with toji irks him a bit before he spanks your ass—the recoil making him even more aroused than before. sukuna hums, seeing the current pout on toji’s face before nodding, “aw. toji wants a turn too, yeah? don’t ya . . big guy?” and he intakes a breath, your pussy constricting around his length as sukuna pulls you further to slam back and forth against him. you’re moving against him now as his dick jackhammers right into your gummy was. your mouth idly dangles with your tongue stil shamelessly lolled out. a raw moan rips from the back of your throat at the pure feeling of utter bliss.

so thick, so girthy—you gasp once you feel his fingers tend towards your neglected tits. toji shortly follows, a hand going between your thighs. your cunt was all stuffed of sukuna, feeding your swollen pussy was so many inches. “hngh, f-fuck, fuckkk,” you’d whine between wet, saturated kisses. toji purposely feels against your folds, all stuffed and sopping wet. he rubs a thumb against your slick entrance as your legs were just about to give out. “toji, m-more. need you to touch me more.”

“you don’t need shit, little girl,” he corrects you, squeezing your lips together before presses a kiss against it. you moan, your ass stinging every few seconds from the stings of sukuna’s palm making direct contact against your ass cheek. spank after spank, oh how he adores the jiggle. he could watch it all day, even in slow motion if he could. “such a cute thing though, had the nerve to say you thought our training room was the fuckin’ ladies' room.”

you cringe once he repeats that. the same ringing going through your ears once more. your ears perk, hearing sukuna’s raspy grunts against the shells of your lobes before you start to stammer, “toji, touch me.”

“i’ll touch this messy body when i wanna,” he gruffs, leaning to nip kisses near your neck. sukuna’s still holding you up—you’re like a rag doll, eyes goggling from the stretch before you start to feel it. not your orgasm, but something entirely different. it was a new type of pressure, sweet whiny moans emit out of you before you feel sukuna’s rude tip thrash against your g-spot again, and again, and again..

toji’s thumb softly strokes underneath your neck as he pulls you into a short kiss. you whimper, pulling away before spreading your legs a bit further.

“i— something’s coming, i f-feel tingly.”

sukuna roughly laughs against your ear, seemingly getting what you were implying. “yeah, gonna make another mess on us, princess? oh. i mean on me, heh?”

you shudder, your pussy feeling entirely stuffed and your eyes merely roll way back. he fit nice and snug, you bare around him before a whine drags out your throat. so deep, so so deep, you’re spasming—each relentless piston of his hips makes you whine louder. a feeling that was purely euphoric welts right against you, and you’re laid all back against sukuna’s bare chest, riding him in reverse. “c-choke me, ‘kuna, choke me, please.”

“want me to put you in a headlock, yeah,” he whispers to you in a rough low voice. you moan, feeling him lick against your earlobe before toji strokes your cheek. you could tell he wanted a turn too, the pout on his lips stretching even further. you’re nodding against him before your cunt gapes more. “sure. i’ll let you in on what my opponents feel, pretty girl.”

you moan, his voice was so low up against your ear, you’re about to cum. or were you, you swallow thickly despite having a sudden dry throat— voice all raspy and strained from moaning for such a duration that your head’s woozy. it feels too good, your thighs ache and quaver before you feel a beefy arm wrap around your neck. “upsie daisy, thereee we go,” and he scoots you on his lap just a bit farther. he’s buried to the hilt. you moan, toji pulling you into the nth kiss of the night, lips moving in pure tandem. just when you’re about to finish, you feel him rub against your stuffed cunt once more. yet that’s only when you decide to move your hands towards the boxers . . . nipples.

“t-the fuck,” he grunts in a hoarse tone, his voice was suddenly a bit shaky. it was cute—you couldn’t lie to yourself, you found yourself staring at toji’s chest way more often than you should. practically always shirtless, his pecs were huge. such pink swollen nipples, you slide a thumb against it and he shivers from your touch. “fuckin’ weirdo. ‘m sensitive there, s-shit.”

he doesn’t tell you to stop—instead, he grips your hair not so tightly but firmly. you look up at him, speaking in a tiny yet sheepish tone. “can— can i?”

“can ya what?” he grits, watching as sukuna continues to feed your cunt of his cock — you were just about to burst, you felt it and your toes clench and curl all up. so cute.

with a thumb still sliding against his pecs tenderly, you murmur. dilated pupils flicker towards his chest, then back up at him. “. . can,” you huff out in short breaths, tummy seizing, breathing hot and heavy. “can i suck on them?”

“no you can’t fuckin’ suck on them. what kinda question is tha—”

“toji, don’t be fuckin’ mean. you claim she’s your girl so let her suck your tits, big guy.” sukuna chimes in, releasing his soft grip against your neck. you gasp, leaning way back against him now. he was so warm pent up against you—you whimper out, sukuna leans against your ear and he starts to talk you through your incoming orgasm. “right? wanna make toji a little whiny bitch?”

“shut the fuck up,” he rasps, and his pecs literally stare at you—so beefy, you could have sworn they twitched. he groans, watching you give him such eyes before he inches closer towards you, bending down. “…….fine. whatever.”

still grinding against sukuna’s lap, you hold toji’s pecs before latching your tongue against it. his face scrunches up and it’s so cute, for whatever reason, the way your tongue curls against his perky nipples feels … good. awkwardly, he pulls your head closer towards his chest, eyeing closely as you briefly start to suck. as usual, you were so sloppy too—moaning up against his sensitive skin, rolling your tongue all against his nipple.

“nasty little g—girl,” he chokes out.

you glance up at him, parting your lips away before he makes you go back to tending to his tense nipples. “i didn’t tell you to stop. use y’er fuckin’ tongue some more. and stare at me while you do that . . . weird shit.”

toji’s voice significantly pitches and you’re so into it that you don’t even realize that before you know it, you end up squirting. everything comes at once, you’re pulsing with sukuna’s cock still twitching vigorously inside you and you whimper, mouth still sucking onto toji’s tits nipples. low laughter could be heard from behind you, and it’s all so much. your pussy was equivalent to a waterpark, gushing out all into sukuna’s lap. “fuckkk, princess,” he chortles, slowing down your hips and he ends up finishing a few seconds after you.

when he came inside, it came out quite a lot too. a hefty amount, it came out in ropes to where he paints the entirety of your womb. so warm from the inside, your tummy briefly caves in and your legs felt like mush.

“heh, did you just squirt?” sukuna points out, cock still twitching inside but he just lies still. you’re stretched out literally on the mat, seeing pure stars— the lights of the arena merely blinding you before you lie back against him. “a squirter and you’re tapping out already? aw boo. ‘n here i thought you could handle a few more rounds in the ring, princess.”

“i— i can,” you protest, parting your lips away from toji’s sheeny pecs. your lips were spit-glossed, he stared at you before squatting down to stare at the mess right between your legs. so messy, sukuna lifts you off of him and it just pours right down between your thighs. “i can go for more.”

toji hums, taking a quick three-second glance at his watch. “five fuckin’ minutes, ‘s all you’ll get with . . me,” and it’s cute because a mere pink forms on his face.

he’s still embarrassed from you sucking on his nipples that he tries to act all tough—but that only makes his tone quaver even more. “match’s gonna start soon. sukuna, let’s take her both.”

he snickers, pulling your shirt that was tucked underneath your blazer all the way up.

“both?” and sukuna lifts you to sit on top of toji, straddling him. you were being preparing to be overly stuffed with not one but two cocks. you fall face forward into toji’s broad chest, the coldness of his chain that wraps around his neck brushes against your skin before he helps you align yourself.

you moan, feeling sukuna get behind too—you gulp, toji’s fondling your breasts that almost poke out through your unbuttoned shirt whilst sukuna was behind. you’d be taking them both— one in each hole. “can you handle us both at the same time, pretty girl? toji’s known for his record of lasting a good ah . . . two solid rounds.”

toji glares, feeling himself start to open you up again. with his plump crownhead of his cock, he splits you open, and he is a tad thicker than sukuna—you moan, wrapping flimsy arms around him before sukuna enters from behind with toji focusing on the front. “shut up. you say that ‘n act like i won’t k.o. you right now.”

“oh yeah?” sukuna cavils, and you gasp, landing on the cold canvas with an 'oof' once the boxer lightly places you down. you pout—glancing up at the two of them who were having a face off at a time like this. sukuna already pulled out and they stared each other down before toji slyly smiles. “is that a fact?” and for a brief moment, he leers down at toji’s sheeny lips— the dark-haired boxer slides his tongue against his scar before humming.

“don’t play, you know it is,” he replies, giving you one ogle before turning back towards his rival. “y’know, ‘kuna. you sure talk a lot of shit but you couldn’t even pin me down if you tried.”

sukuna rasps lowly, inching closer before they were inches apart—you thought they were gonna kiss at this rate. oh, something like this would be such a good inspiration for the headlines.

“if you wanted my attention, should have said so,” sukuna sneers, rubbing his hand that was carefully wrapped up in a white bandage against his slim torso. “besides, i think we all know who can last more rounds.”

“did you two just forget about me—?” you furrow your eyebrows, literally still soaked and laid against the corner of the ring. they shoot you a glance before turning back towards each other.

toji scoffs back at sukuna, ignoring you. “prove it then. pin me the fuck down, hot shot.”

“bend the fuck over then, big guy. we’ll show the pretty journalist who’s gonna win this night’s match. round fuckin’ one.”

12K notes · View notes

wondersinwaynemanor · 3 months

Text

what if the batkids decided at the same time to bring their partners to the Manor and they argue about it?

[i can't stop writing long scenes]

scenario 1:

Duke has his arm wrapped around Izzy's waist as they make their way to the movie room.

Duke: Have you decided which movie you want to watch tonight?

Izzy, grins: The Notebook?

Duke, opening the door of the room, chuckles: But we've just watched that two weeks ago. Besides, Dick and Jason love that film, I've watched it a lot of times by now.

Izzy, turns the switch on to illuminate the room: What's the harm in rewatching-

they stop in their tracks as Steph and Cass enter the room from the other entrance of the movie room.

Steph giggles and leans towards Cass' face to kiss her. they don't even notice that the room is now bright with the lights on.

Duke, clears his throat loudly: Uh. Just to let you know, there are other people in the room.

Izzy: Sorry! We didn't mean to interrupt.

Steph and Cass, still holding each other, look at Duke and Izzy at the other side of the room.

Cass waves to them.

Steph: What are you two doing in here?

Duke: To watch a movie? Clearly.

Steph: But we started an hour ago.

Duke: I don't see a sign in the door that says it's occupied though.

Duke has really been hanging too, too much with Damian and Jason.

Cass, covers Steph's mouth before she speaks more: Maybe we can watch together.

Izzy, smiles: What were you guys watching earlier?

Steph and Duke, say at the same time: But this was supposed to be a date!

then Steph and Duke glare at each other, suddenly arguing over random things.

Cass shakes her head and leads Izzy outside the room so they can get some food from the kitchen.

---

scenario 2:

Dick continues to lead Wally to the private pool that was just newly built.

they just came home from a mission and some dip in warm water under the bright stars sounds so good right now.

by the time they both strip down to their boxers, Dick is a giggling mess as Wally bridal carries him on the stairs down to the water.

Wally, still carrying Dick on his arms, backing both of them on the pool wall: Have I told you today how beautiful you are?

Dick, blushes, wrapping his arms on Wally's neck: You always remind me. But tell me again-

then out of nowhere, someone shouts, "KABOOOOOM!" and a large splash of water hit both of them.

Dick, rubs the water off his eyes: What the actual fu-

and it's Roy from across the side of the pool, leaning against the wall with a smug grin on his face. on his side is Jason with the same kind of smile.

Roy, brings Jason closer to him: Oh, isn't it my two best friends of all time?

Jason, laughs: Ocupado, Dickface. Sorry.

he wasn't sorry at all.

Dick, groans, coming down from Wally's arms: You lied, Jay! You said you were out of town.

Jason, shrugs: Plans change, Dick.

Wally, rubs Dick's arm soothingly: A little warning next time, guys?

Roy, grins: Not our forte.

Dick, grumbles: You guys are assholes. Go to another area or something, I don't care.

Jason: I'm sorry, what was that, Dick?

Dick: Asshole, I said go to another area. Period.

Jason: Why you-

then the two brothers are moving forward towards each other on the water, aiming for a fight of sorts. one minute, Jason has Dick under the water and the next, it's Dick chasing Jason in the water like ducklings. like birds.

Wally hides Dick's escrima sticks, while Roy hides Jason's guns. just in case the fight escalates.

---

scenario 3:

Roy, whines: Jaaaaaybird, can we sleep now?

Jason: I said give me a minute, Roy. I need to grab a book.

Roy leans his weight on Jason, closing his eyes.

Jason: And I'm not carrying you, idiot.

although, he wraps his arm on Roy's waist, supporting him as they walk to the Manor library.

Jason, opens the door: Give me a few, kay? Then we can- WHAT THE SHIT?

Roy feels more awake than awhile ago as they both stare at Kon, shirtless on the couch and his hair a mess.

Jason: Clone, what are you doing here????

Kon, flushes, embarrassed: I... I... Um.

then Tim appears from behind the couch too, his hair also a mess, but thankfully his clothes still on. or else Jason would have threw up on the floor.

Roy just has a grin on his face the entire time, amused.

Tim, grins: Hey, guys.

Jason, pinches the bridge of his nose: I swear, Timmy, I fucking swear, if you and clone boy don't fucking take your hormones upstairs to your own room, I will-

Tim: You will what, Jay? I mean... You don't own this place. Doesn't mean you spend most of your time here, it's yours.

Jason: I never said I owned this! I just fucking said, don't do funny business on the library couch.

Tim, scoffs: As if you don't do funny business here.

Roy, grins even widely: The boy's got a point, Jaybird.

Jason, now even more upset: Go, go upstairs!

Tim: But-

Jason: Now, Tim!

Tim: You're not my mom!

Jason: And you're not being responsible!

Tim: As if you're any better!

then the two boys continue to argue, leaving Roy and Kon to shrug and make their own conversation by the door.

Roy: Hey, kid. How's the Young Justice?

Kon, smiles: Pretty good. How's the Outlaws?

---

bonus:

Damian and Jon are in the game room, playing some Mario Kart when they hear voices outside the room.

Steph: We were here first!

Dick: I thought I told everyone in the groupchat that me and Wally will be having the Game Room.

Jason: I already called dibs in the room.

Duke: I arrived earlier than any of you, so technically, me and Izzy get to use it first.

Tim: Hey, I never had the Game Room this week!

Cass, suggests: Can we just all share it?

Damian, opens the door, annoyed: Will everyone just keep their mouths closed? I have settled in the room already.

as the batkids continue to make their points, Jon exits the room and flies to the main living room where the rest of the partners are talking.

Jon, settles beside Kon: I guess this is a regular occurance.

Roy, chuckles: You have no idea, kid.

Wally: As long as I can remember, yes.

Kon: You'll get used to it, little brother.

Izzy: With a house so big, they still argue on who gets a room first.

Izzy, sees the Monopoly game under the coffee table, smiling: Anyone up for Monopoly?

633 notes · View notes

newtkive · 8 months

Text

shift shenanigans - s1 social media au

note: jus for fun ! may or may not do more parts.

warnings: crude humor, slightly offensive jokes from richie sry

part two

liked by syd_adamu, marcus.brooks11 and 30 others

chefboyardee: my friends! i love my friends! the two on the right more than the left (i’m joking i promise) 😁😁😁😁

see all 8 comments

syd_adamu: brave of you to call him your friend y/n

↳ chefboyardee: boss man carmy save me

↳ syd_adamu: oh.. :///

marcus.brooks11: you did me so dirty, friend.

↳ chefboyardee: love you marcus you look spectacular

↳ marcus.brooks11: don’t start

richietheking: Where am I?

↳ chefboyardee: ya motha

liked by syd_adamu, chefboyardee and 10 others

richietheking: Getting sh$!t done.

see all 8 comments

marcus.brooks11: This is coolllddd.

↳ richietheking: You already know it man.

syd_adamu: this is actually crazy

carmyberzatto: can you show this on instagram? i think you should delete this.

↳ richietheking: Delete your life.

chefboyardee: come down to the beef for a number 6 the occy way 💯 the safest joint on the block 🤑💯we are 🔛🔝

↳ richietheking: Eyyy I know that’s right.

↳ carmyberzatto: please don’t advertise this.

WE HAVE THE BEEF 🥩

[ 8:25 am ]

y/n:

bruh im about to lose it. heads up when you guys get to work.

marcus: that catering order is about to be crazy

DO NOT REPLY: These white boards are stressing me out.

syd: we know, probably giving you ptsd from not finishing high school

DO NOT REPLY: Fuck you I did finish it.

y/n: oh i gotta change ur contact name richie

richie poo: ????? What

y/n: it was ‘DO NOT REPLY’ lols

marcus: valid

syd: real

richie poo: What? Why?! That’s so rude

y/n: cuz you piss me off

and you kept blowing up my phone yesterday

richie poo: You weren’t answering, and we needed help at the cook out.

syd: the one where you poisoned everyone?

richie poo: Fuck off.

y/n: when i’m off work, i’m off work.

marcus: don’t let carmy hear that, y/n

y/n: don’t remind me

syd: he’s trying at least, go easy on him. he really has great ideas

richie poo: You mean you have great ideas in that little notebook

tina: Never trust a broad with a notebook.

syd: hey! i’m just being helpful

y/n: do you guys think my ig post will hurt carmys feelings

marcus: it would make me a little sad if i were him, but i don’t think he cares

y/n: great i’m gonna cry now

syd: i doubt he even saw it y/n it’s fine

richie poo: Check the work chat. Cousin is in a mood.

y/n: oh great

tina: Help us all.

syd: be nice you guys

WORK

[ 9:15 am ]

carmy: Everyone, we have huge catering orders tomorrow to prep for today. Please get here as soon as you can, the earlier you clock in the better. Additionally, please be careful what you post on social media. I don’t want people to get the wrong impression

y/n: yes chef 👨‍🍳

syd: ok sounds good

richie poo: Cool it, Cousin. What’s the issue with the social media

tina: I use FaceBook. That not allowed now??

carmy: Tina, you’re fine. I’m talking about those who post work things on public accounts

marcus: facebook is crazy

richie poo: I can’t go private

y/n: he needs the likes

richie poo: No I’m disabled from doing so. Not sure why

y/n: liar

richie poo: 😑I don’t like you

carmy: Then please don’t post pics of yourself posting up with a gun and an air horn outside of my shop anymore.

marcus: that pic was fire can’t lie

carmy: Well, it’s bad for business.

richie poo: Fine, whatever

y/n: carmy

carmy: What, Y/n?

y/n: is this because of my caption on my post i’m sorry i promise i wasn’t being for real

carmy: I don’t care Y/n.

y/n: is that code for ‘i care a lot and i’m crying in the office right now and that’s why the door is closed’

syd: ? why the oh

y/n: he opened the door and yelled no 🤨 but i think i saw red eyes

carmy: Please get back to work and I’ll comp a meal for you later

y/n: OMG yes chef 😍

richie poo: Inappropriate emojis and you shouldn’t have to incentivize her to work

y/n: shut up acting like HR i’m gonna beat your ass

jealousy is ugly which is why you have that mug on your face

carmy: Stop

y/n: yes chef 👨‍🍳

i heard your giggle tho

richie poo: Again with the schizo episode

syd: you can’t say that richie

richie poo: Oh sorry

1K notes · View notes

nvuy · 6 months

Text

so… about that drink you ordered — boothill

summary. boothill has a pity party at a bar and notices a familiar face that he wants to smash into two.

notes. sort of requested official unofficial sequel sort of to hijacked. you can read this stand alone. not saying you should, though. teehee. this is so uninspired. i just like this concept a lot. i also just like rivals to lovers. i’m also riding on the coattails of the “boothill is largely illiterate.” whether it’s actually canon or not who knows. let me be. he’s still not released LMAOOOO.

warnings. the usual banter, little bit of threatening, but nothing major.

Boothill was at a loss. The mission was a bust, there was no response from La Mancha, and the dreamscape was beginning to grind his gears. So many loud noises, the poster signs were following him around, and this so-called SoulGlad was not as good as it was advertised to be.

This bar sucked, too. The bartender had been giving him the stink eye for the better half of an hour now. It probably wasn’t appropriate to sick him right in the face for it, break his nose, and give him a beating.

The bartender wasn’t scrawny, though. Some big bulk of meat with tired eyes, scruff and mousy brown hair. His chest looked like it was about to pop the buttons of his vest. Dude looks absolutely repressed. Probably works minimum wage.

The bartender abandons a blue inky pen and his notebook that Boothill snoops in. Nothing interesting. Just pages of tabs and tabs of people he doesn’t know, nor care about.

There’s music from the stereos in the corners, though surprisingly, considering it’s not a club—that one is next door. It’s a conjoined building. The only thing seperating the bar and the VIP private rooms of the club is a wall and a locked door. Comforting—and Boothill would have lost his mind already.

It’s also dark. Granted, it’s two in the morning, but the low lights can’t be good for normal people. Not to mention the group of women in the corner that have been hoarding the few slot machines for about thirty minutes now.

Every so often, a chime will go off, and one of them will start busting into tears.

He’s here alone. Not for any particular reason. He’s waiting for a response from somebody, and what better way to pass the time than people watch and pretend he’s not nosy.

Also he feels super important sitting at the counter of the bar.

He almost jumps at a whisper in his ear.

A reddish drink in a ribbed coupe glass is gently dropped onto the counter space beside him. There’s a cucumber slice on the rim, and it also looks like it’s been dusted with sugar.

Boothill turns his nose up. Gross.

The bartender glances at the figure who slots into the seat next to the ranger. “Can I get you something else?”

“Hard whiskey.”

Huh. His eyes snapped to the right. Very familiar. Almost unnervingly so. Just in case, he scoots himself away by an inch, sitting closer to the edge of the barstool.

The bartender blinks, unsure as he pulls a tumbler from the rack. “For you?”

A finger prods the Ranger’s cheek. “For him.”

There’s a zap from the finger, like a small electric shock. Like static charged from the friction of the weird material of the barstools.

“Thanks, Gal.”

“No amount of flirting is gonna make me clear your tab,” Gallagher warned before sliding the whiskey over to the Ranger. Boothill had barely moved, now acutely aware of his own face plastered on a wanted poster behind the bartender’s head. “Try not showin’ up here frequently. Bad for my image if I keep serving crooks.” He points to the Ranger, and then to you. “Both of you.”

The bartender then is called over by a group of women who are giggling at a booth in the corner.

Boothill was sure he was going to lean forward and scrap with you over the counter. He could already feel the terse skin of your neck in his hands.

“You followin’ me?”

“You followed me first,” you say harshly.

The ranger let out a laugh before picking up his drink. “It was only a job. If you got offended, that’s your problem.” He then holds the glass close. “You g’nna do that thing again?”

“‘Thing?’” you repeated.

There was a smug grin on your face. You rested the chin in the palm of your hand.

Oh. He was so going to throw you over the counter and smash a bottle over your head. “Y’know what I’m talkin’ ‘bout. Don’t play stupid.”

You took a sip of your drink.

“Boop.”

Your finger pressed to his chest. You snickered when he stared down at the brief flashing of yellow beneath his joints.

Then, you flit your finger upwards and flick his nose.

He grabs your hand with the intent of pulling it from its socket.

“Now, that’s a dangerous game to play,” you remind him. “I’ve got you in my hands, remember?” Your free hand lets go of your glass, and there’s a small flash of yellow light on the pads of the gloves on your hands. A flicker is all it takes to showcase his entire makeup in your palm. You spin it slowly for good measure.

Then, the image disappears and you snatch your wrist from his hand.

“What do you want?” Boothill mutters. He’s absentmindedly staring into his drink while swishing it around. The ice cubes softly tap against the glass.

“Insight. You’re a Galaxy Ranger, right?” He can’t lie to you anyway. You pretty much know everything about him. Your main profession is definitely stalking and being a thorn in his side. Your fingers held his chin up softly. “Tell me about it.”

He blinks, dazed. “That’s it?”

“No.”

He removes your hand from his chin. He holds his glass protectively. “Then quit pullin’ my leg. Cut to the good bit.”

You sigh. “You’re no fun. Do you come to bars just to mope?” You pull a dramatic frown for good measure.

“Do you come to bars to piss everyone off?” he shoots back. Despite his tone, his fingers are gentle around the glass. Any more firm a hold, and the drink would shatter and spill all over the counter.

You grin.

You tap his nose again. “Just you.” Then, you shake your head. “I’m here ‘cause I got a bar crush.” You then point to a table behind Boothill’s head in the corner. “Blondie with the nice eyes and the rings.”

After a moment's hesitation, the ranger turns and follows your finger.

Sure enough, you’re not convincing him to spin around so you can shove your hand into his sockets. There is a blond man at a table dressed in green, winking at an opponent over a game of… poker? Is that poker? The game with the chips and stuff. And dice, too. They’re thrown over a board, and there’s a couple of people who have tuned in to watch the entire thing unfold.

“His name is Aventurine. Or, that’s a code name, I think. He’s Sigonian. Works for the IPC, incredibly insecure, has a gambling addiction, needs to eat lead…” You stopped short, counting on your fingers as Boothill turns back to you. “Isn’t he dreamy?”

Boothill narrows his eyes at you. “Do you know everything about everyone?”

You shrug. “Pretty much, yeah.” Then, you make a noise. “Eh, I’m lying. Lots of people are boring. I only know the basics ‘bout most of ‘em. It’s the higher ups I’m interested in. Case in point–” You gestured to the blond man again, now scanning over his cards. “–Mister Big Shot. And all his loser coworkers. I don’t like the IPC.”

Boothill quietly sips his drink.

At least you can both agree on something.

He wants to yawn. He doesn’t have the function to do that anymore.

You talk too much.

He cuts you off, and fiddles with a few buttons on his arm. “What can you tell me–” A small image of a woman projects into view from a small lens near his wrist. “–About her?”

You lean closer to the image. Pretty.

She has lovely purple hair and eyes to match. It’s an unassuming photo. She’s not even looking at the camera, not even close to it. She’s standing next to a little boy with sparkling eyes and a uniform that starkly resembles the hotel staff in the waking world of Penacony—oh, the bellboy. You forgot his name.

You hum. “What’s her name?”

“Acheron.” He spits it nastily, as if tasting vitriol on his tongue.

You lean back against the counter. “I’d have to dig deeper. Can’t say I’ve seen her around before.”

“Well, that’s disappointin’,” he huffs before the image shrinks and disappears back into the lens. “Thought you were better than that.”

Your brows knit together.

“Are you trying to rile me up?” It was working. Curse you and your hot-head. It would get you killed one day.

Boothill grins.

Then, he raises his glass to you. “Yep.”

You wanted to pull him apart right there, like a doll.

Instead, you whisper, “tell me about La Mancha.”

Boothill casually sips the whiskey. “What’s in it for me?”

“I’ll dig up whatever I can find about that Acheron girl.”

Boothill then lets out a small giggle. “I already know who she is.” He wasn’t lying either. You could tell by how he grinned. “I was testin’ ya.”

Oh, great. He’s figured you out again. Not that there’s much to decode beneath the layer of self-doubt and hostility.

You could feel your face burning.

He grabs your cheeks before you can turn away.

“You ain’t here ‘cause you got some ‘puppy crush,’” he accused playfully, squishing your skin like it’s clay. “You already told me ya know everything about blondie. Who’re you really here for?”

He’s not stupid.

He’s also twirling a lock of his hair around his finger.

God damnit.

Your fingers curled tightly around the rim of your glass. The cucumber slice has since fallen into the cosmopolitan, and it’s giving the entire drink a strange watery taste.

The bar carries on. There’s a hoot from the table with blondie, who’s now, since the last time you stared daggers into the side of his head, collected some more of his poor opponent’s chips.

You pull your face from his grip. “Nobody.”

“Not even me?” Boothill presses. “You seem to love followin’ me around. In and out the dreamscape.”

You grit your teeth.

“The bartender,” you mutter finally. “I’m here for the bartender.” Currently, Gallagher is half asleep on the other side of the counter, trying to negotiate with some drunkard over the pricing of a scotch.

You eye him warily for a moment.

“There it is.” He pats your head like a dog. “Knew you’d come ‘round, pumpkin.”

You’re trembling with rage. “Kiss my ass, you cyborg scum.” You were considering throwing a punch at his perfect face.

“Rude.” Boothill flicks your nose back and you grunt. “I’m tryin’ to be nice wit’ you. You followed me here.”

You wanted to leave now. He sucks when he knows he has the upper hand, even if he’s well aware you can make his arms tear his own head off.

But you’re not going to do that. You need him. You made that clear.

The sound of a slot machine goes off somewhere to the right. There's cheering from a bunch of women.

You turn back and stare at the wall of liquor behind the bar. Maybe you should just knock yourself out. Whether by downing an entire bottle of bourbon or smashing it over your head. It was a hard choice to make.

You watch him through your peripherals, noticing he’s pinched a napkin from the pile on the counter.

“Lookin’ very pretty tonight, by the way. Hard to keep my eyes off ya.” He was writing something down with the pen from before. “If you were anyone else, I woulda had to take ya home. ‘Specially after ya bought me a drink.”

“Yeah, you’re welcome.” Then, you pause. “Excuse me?”

Boothill folds the napkin into a square and holds it to your lips. “Open.”

“You are not–”

Too late. He’s pushed it to your teeth, and you instinctively clamp down on it.

Oh, this sucks. This sucks bad.

He knows it, too, from the way he’s grinning at you like a shark and snickering.

He presses his warm lips to your cheek. The scent of whiskey faintly wafts in the air.

You stupidly freeze, hands curled around his wrists when his cold hands tilt your head so the tip of his tongue can press to the corner of your lips. You could stop him. You could.

You didn’t.

You smell like strawberry, the same as that other night. You look just as good, too. Shame you haven’t put anything on your lips. He would’ve loved to be stained a nice pink again.

He slides his whiskey next to you.

Then, he finishes what’s left of your drink. Dickhead. “I’ll be ‘round if ya need me.” He taps your nose and stands up. “You know where to find me.”

With a tilt of his hat, he leaves.

You pull the napkin from your teeth. Are you serious?

Face burning with humiliation, you hastily unfold the tissue, fingers shaking around the glass of whiskey. It’s heavy on your tongue; disgusting, bitter, everything you’d use to describe that stupid cowboy and his abomination of a body.

Scrawled in blue ink is a line of numbers. It looked suspiciously like a phone number.

Below it in blocky letters are the words: Keep In touc H. ♡

There’s a crudely drawn horse with a hat in the corner.

#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #boothill x reader #boothill #hsr x you #✦ ( the macrocosmos. )

880 notes · View notes

irisintheafterglow · 1 year

Text

coparenting!megumi with satoru where one of you gets lost after school supply shopping it's not the actual child that gets lost

"megs, where's satoru?"

"i thought he was with you."

"that's a problem, then, because he hasn't been with me for the past ten minutes." you plop down next to him, sliding your sunglasses to the top of your head and taking in the busy park in front of you. the weather was comfortable today, cool enough that you weren't sweating but warm enough to have megumi's ice cream dripping down the cone toward his little fingers. you wordlessly hand him a napkin and he takes it without looking at you, continuing to observe the people throwing around a frisbee or having a picnic in the sunshine. there was a playground on the other side of the field and you could vaguely make out the blurry forms of children running about. "you can go play, if you want. i can stay and watch the stuff."

"i don't really want to," he replies. "i like sitting here with you." the corner of your mouth turns up into a smile. he was barely big enough for his legs to touch the ground and he absentmindedly kicked his feet back and forth under the bench. "do we need to go anywhere else today?"

"i don't think so, no. i think we got everything that you'll need for next week." he nods in assent and the toes of his shoes brush against the plastic grocery bags holding his new school supplies.

you could tell megumi was excited, in his own quiet way, when the car pulled into the parking lot of the store. as much as he acted as the bane of satoru's existence, you knew he liked spending time with both of you. you stopped satoru with a gentle hand on his shoulder when his lanky legs ran for a cart, gesturing toward megumi heading down the first aisle, basket in hand. you barely had to do anything for most of the trip; at most, you'd remind the boy of a specific type of pencil or notebook he needed and provide feedback if he was split between two different designs. any additions by satoru were pointedly ignored by the boy unless they were reiterated by you. "if you need anything else, just let satoru know and he'll bring it to your school."

"you can't drop it off instead?"

"i know i usually do, but i have an assignment that's sending me out of town. you'll have to make do with your esteemed mentor for a bit." you smirk and nudge his shoulder with your elbow, chuckling softly when he frowns. it was a little funny, seeing a child have the expression of a businessman desperately waiting for retirement. "what is it, megs?"

"he scares all my teachers." you choke on the sip you take from your bottle, jolting forward and laugh-coughing your way to normal breathing again. it didn't surprise you, what megumi said; it was the incredibly straightforward, slightly amused note in his voice that had water going down the wrong pipes. "i'm serious. whenever you're visiting, people always gush about how well you take care of me."

"and when satoru comes around?"

"they hide." a prideful noise escapes your throat and the two of you have identical smirks as you sit on the bench. your eyes carefreely scan the field for any bright white hair or screams of commotion that could indicate your boyfriend's presence, but there are no such things. nonetheless, you're not worried. he always found his way back to you somehow.

at least, that's what you think.

you feel the telltale buzz-buzz-buzz of your phone in your back pocket and roll your eyes when you see the caller id.

"hello?"

"i'm lost."

"mmm, poor baby," you deadpan, glancing at megumi to see a small smile on his face.

"aren't you going to come find me?" his voice is teasingly playful, implying that he disappeared on purpose just for the hell of it.

"i'm not playing hide and seek with you, satoru. just come back to the ice cream cart."

"but it's so much more fun if you come get me instead," he argues, his voice slightly too insistent for you to think that he's joking. he better be kidding.

"satoru."

"okay, fine. i actually don't know where the hell i am." he is not kidding.

you sigh, standing and taking megumi's hand. "just retrace your steps, sweetheart." you stand and walk a random direction in hopes that your navigationally-challenged boyfriend would find his way to you. the plastic handle of the store bag digs into the crook of your elbow as you continue to hold the phone up to your ear. "can you describe your surroundings?"

"uh, trees."

"those are everywhere, satoru. we're in a park." you can't help the giggle that escapes your lips towards the tail end of your sentence. the irony of the most powerful human on earth being lost in a park was priceless. "any specific monuments or something that i can head to?"

"there's a big field-"

"again, baby, this is a park. look, i'm just gonna do the thing. if you can't find us from that, you might need to rethink your career choice." megumi stifles a snicker from next to you and you abruptly hang up, cutting off the distorted protests blaring from your phone. you have a seat on the grass and megumi mirrors your position, taking your hand when you offer it to him. "just like we practiced, okay?" he sighs impatiently, but you knew it wasn't you he was irritated with. "alright, i'll go first and then you add on to me, yeah?"

stretching your neck from side to side, you close your eyes and slowly channel more cursed energy until it engulfs your entire body. soon, you feel megumi's faint but determined aura bump against yours. after less than a minute, instinct tells you that satoru received your beacon and you look over your shoulder to see him strolling casually across the lawn. he's tall enough that, when he finally stands above you and megumi, he blocks out most of the sun. you can barely see his eyes, but you know he can see the exasperation on your face. he merely beams at you like you produced the oxygen he was breathing.

"found you."

"took you long enough." he effortlessly pulls you up from the ground and you stumble, nearly slamming into his chest. "where did you end up going, anyway?"

"there's an old daycare center towards the back of the park. sensed something there and wanted to kill it before it bothered us," he explains, humming when you brush your fingers over the fabric covering his eyes. he delicately takes your hand and presses light kisses to your knuckles, so dotingly you'd think either of you had just come back from war. you're about to kiss him properly when a small voice clears its throat some ways below you. your face heats, suddenly remembering megumi is still there.

"are we ready to go, or should i give you two a few minutes?" satoru's jaw drops in indignancy.

"watch it, megs, or i'm gonna have satoru be the one dropping off all of your things during the school year." your hand ruffles the black spikes of his hair and he pouts.

"please don't."

"wait, what's wrong with me bringing your things?" megumi exhales tiredly like he'd clocked out of his 9-5 and walks ahead to the parking lot. you and satoru lag behind, his arm wrapped around your waist and matching his steps with yours.

"i'll explain in the car. will you be able to find it okay, lost child?" you raise your eyebrows patronizingly, putting on your best doe-eyed gaze. he scoffs, but you're not done making fun of him just yet. "whatever shall i do if you were to suddenly disappear? i may be forced to find another...suitor." you bat your eyelashes dramatically and you can see his eyes rolling behind his blindfold.

"ha, ha. very funny." his hands ever so slightly squeeze the flesh around your hip and you jump. "now i know how it feels when i start reciting shakespeare over minor inconveniences." you laugh and melt a little when his thumb draws apologetic little circles on your waist. god, he's so in love with you.

"i'm surprised you didn't start monologuing on the phone. it worried me."

"you don't ever need to worry about finding me because i'll always come back."

"you promise?"

"on the moon and the stars."

prompt is from @youneedsomeprompts because coparenting megumi inspiration comes and goes from my mind like an endangered species :))

hope you enjoyed ! likes, reblogs, and feedback are always appreciated <3

#gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo fluff #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #satoru gojo #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #fushiguro megumi

2K notes · View notes

eddies-ashtray · 2 years

Text

Knee Socks // Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Masterlist

Synopsis: Eddie has a thing for his best friend's thighs. She catches him jerking off and Eddie’s fantasy becomes reality. Part 2 to this blurb (though this can be read independently).

WC: 2.7k

Category: Smut (18+).

Content: Eddie’s thigh kink, knee socks kink (?), kinda perv Eddie, kinda ditzy reader, masturbation (male receiving), fem receiving oral (face riding), nicknames.

A/N: This is for my girls with thick thighs. I love you and you are gorgeous. Also, I have a tag list, but not everyone who liked the tag list post will be tagged here since many of the blogs do not have their ages in their bios--which is a requirement to be added to the tag list that many people ignored ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

♡*♡*♡

Eddie’s never endured torture before but he is pretty sure that he has a good idea of what it would feel like. And he is currently experiencing it.

It’s a lazy Saturday evening and you and Eddie have spent the day together, which is the furthest thing from torture in his opinion. It’s the opposite of torture, actually; Eddie cherishes your company more than anything in the world.

Right now though, you lay next to him on his bed—you, on your belly facing him, and Eddie, leaning against the headboard with his acoustic guitar in his lap—as you doodle in your notebook while humming one of his songs. And while that is nearly enough to send him into overdrive, you are also wearing a brand new skirt. The torture device itself.

Eddie knew he was in for the most torturous day when he answered his door and you were there in your black knee socks and that skirt, presenting it to him excitedly by giving him a twirl on his doorstep. He hadn’t missed the way your thighs jiggled with the movement. In fact, he fixated on it and forced himself to stifle a groan at the sight as you exclaimed, it even has pockets!

Previously, Eddie had thought that your red skirt and knee socks were the most deadly pairing, but this one–oh, God, this one. It’s a simple black skirt, nothing super fancy, but it is so—so—short that he’s sure that if you bent over, he’d get a pretty view of the curve of your ass and your soft cunt through your panties. The thought has his mouth watering instantly.

He’s torn because he never wants you to leave, but he also really needs you to leave so he can take care of the growing bulge in his pants. Eddie is thankful he has his guitar covering his lap.

Luckily, his dilemma is solved when you glance over at his alarm clock and say, “Oh! Shoot, I need to get home.” As you begin to shove your things into your bag.

Relief floods over him, followed by a wave of guilt. He should not want his best friend to leave so he can jack off to the thought of her and the way her pretty, thick thighs look in her new skirt.

Eddie’s about to climb off the bed after you get up, intending to walk you out even though his bedroom is no more than 20 short paces from the front door of the trailer. But he’s stopped by your hand on his arm applying gentle pressure to stop him from standing, the contact causing his face to burn hot and the skin under your hand to sizzle with electricity.

“Don’t worry, Eddie, I can find my way to the door,” You tell him, not wanting him to have to walk you to his door. It’s not exactly far.

“Oh, alright,” Eddie agrees without protest. He wouldn’t have to awkwardly hide his hardness from you after all.

“See you tomorrow! Bye, Eddie,” You say with a dazzling smile as you open his bedroom door, giving him a little wave just before you exit his room and shut the door.

“Bye,” Eddie says just as his door clicks shut.

Sitting very still for about 15 seconds, he waits for the resolute slam of the trailer door before he hurriedly stands from his bed to place his acoustic guitar on its stand, and shoves his jeans down his legs, nearly tripping on his way back to his bed.

Another wave of guilt crashes over him for a moment before fizzling out as he settles back on the bed and squeezes himself at the base of his cock. He’s already leaking pre-cum, his boxers likely stained from the sticky substance.

“Fuck,” Eddie groans, flicking his wrist on his first stroke and running his thumb over the bright red tip. Pressing the tip of his thumb meanly into his leaking hole, Eddie moans loudly, unabashed in the empty trailer.

The guilty part of him encourages him to get on with it, to stop teasing himself so the shameful act of thinking of you while he touches himself can be over with as soon as possible. So he does, quickly spitting thickly into his hand before wrapping it back around his thick length. Because he’s painfully hard, and desperate, and can’t fight off the image of your plush thighs as his fist flies over the length of his flushed cock.

Just as he’s getting into a fast, pleasurable rhythm, the worst–best?–thing happens. And it happens so quickly that he doesn’t have the time to stop, or throw a sheet over himself, or do anything that would make this moment less awkward.

His bedroom door whips open.

“Sorry, Teddy, I forgot my-”

But Eddie doesn’t get to find out what you’d left behind. Because you freeze in his doorway. You, and your knee socks, and your teeny tiny skirt, and your mouth-watering thighs freeze at the cusp of his bedroom while he’s half naked in his bed as he pumps his cock to the thought of you. It throbs in his hand at the sight of you in all your gorgeous glory, stunned into silence—except for the tiny half-gasp, half-squeak that leaves you.

This moment would be a whole lot more awkward and embarrassing if you’d done what he’d expected you to do the moment that door had opened. But you do none of what he thought you might. You hadn’t screamed in horror and covered your eyes or slammed his door shut and left immediately, leaving behind whatever it was you had left here. No, instead, you stand there, unable to take your eyes off his pretty, thick cock. Unable to remove your gaze from the pearly pre-cum dripping from his tip and the way his large hand moves over his length. Instead, you visibly swallow and rub your thighs together as if you’re trying to provide some relief for yourself. As if the sight of Eddie on his bed touching himself is enough to make you wet, to make your cunt ache with desire.

So, all of this considered, Eddie takes a chance.

Eddie takes a chance when he begins to lazily stroke his cock again in a much slower rhythm, teasing you. Your eyes widen to the size of saucers at the movement.

Eddie takes a chance when he says, “C’mere, sweetheart.” As his back arches just slightly off the bed when he tightens his fist around his girth on an upstroke.

For the first time since you’d caught him, your gaze shifts from his cock to his face–which is probably tinged a pretty pink right about now, shades lighter than his tip.

“W-what?” You stutter, delicate hand still poised on the door knob.

“I said: come here, sweetheart,” Eddie repeats slowly and more commanding this time.

It takes a moment, but eventually you scramble toward him while he continues the most torturous pace of his fist over his cock.

Eddie had thought that earlier–when he was forced to watch you prance around his bedroom in that skirt and those knee socks–had been torture. But now, here you are, crawling onto his bed, and his palms are itching to reach out and touch you.

Once you’re settled on your knees next to him–your skirt now bunched up high on your thighs from the way you’re kneeling–, you reach out to replace his hand with your own, but Eddie has different plans.

“Nuh-uh-uh,” he hums, clicking his tongue in disapproval, halting your movements.

Your gaze finds his eyes as your lips melt into a delicate pout. You, disappointed at the fact that he told you not to touch his cock.

“But-please?” You beg, voice watery, and Eddie thinks he could cum just from your simple pleading to touch him.

A slow, pleased smile spreads across his face before he clarifies, “I’ve been dreaming of something else, sweetheart...” His gaze falling to your legs and his free hand creeping up your thigh–causing goosebumps to rise in their wake–where he toys with the edge of your skirt. “And I’m just dying to have a taste.”

“Oh,” You reply dumbly, breathlessly. “Yes, please.”

Eddie’s brows knit together, pained by your sweetness. “God, you’re just the sweetest thing, aren’t you, angel?” He says, stroking your thigh gently with his thumb.

Your head ducks bashfully at the new nickname and his remark and it’s all making his cock somehow harder and his belly stickier with pre-cum. His hand slows to a stop on his cock, sure that if he kept it up, he’d be cumming any second now.

“Alright, angel, get up here,” Eddie instructs, tapping his chest. “Want these pretty thighs around my head,” He says with a mean squeeze to the dough of your thigh.

He expects you to reach underneath your skirt to tug off your panties before you climb over him, but instead you move to straddle his chest immediately. Since your skirt is so short, it simply bunches around your hips with the new position. And he finds the most wonderful sight once you’re hovering over his face: your naked cunt, already slick and glistening. Saliva fills his mouth at the view and he groans. You’d been in his home all day, wearing that tiny skirt without any panties, knowing full well that he’d get an eyeful if you so much as bent over.

“Naughty girl,” Eddie growls as he brings both his arms around your thighs before turning his head to place a gentle kiss to the plushness of your left thigh. It’s just as soft beneath his lips as he thought it would be.

With his hands now gripping the outsides of your thighs, Eddie finds they are soft and sweet, so pillowy they feel like clouds beneath his fingertips. Digging his fingers into the flesh roughly, greedily, Eddie begins sucking a harsh bruise into your thigh, causing you to whimper pathetically above him.

If a heaven existed, this would be it.

Though he’s dreamt of marking you up, of scattering bruises across your pretty thighs and admiring his work, it would take some time to do it just the way he wants. And right now, his craving for a taste of your soaked cunt—which hovers teasingly above him like a feast after months of not eating—is so overwhelming Eddie simply cannot wait any longer to devour you. He’ll take his time with you another day, but right now all he knows is that he might die if he goes another second without his mouth on your puffy cunt.

So, Eddie tightens his grip around your thighs and pulls you forcefully down onto his tongue, causing you to gasp in shock at the swift action.

Eddie’s groan of pleasure rivals your moan as his tongue rolls teasingly over your pudgy clit for the first time. Then, he flattens his tongue and licks a thick strip from your slick-leaking hole all the way up your cunt, getting a proper taste of you. You’re a slice of heaven.

“Oh! E-Eddie!” You cry, and this only causes his hips to thrust into the air in search of friction, of relief. But he’ll neglect his cock forever in favour of your taste on his tongue.

The crush of curls on your mound glistens with your slick now as Eddie begins to devour you messily, shaking his head back and forth in a fast motion, an action that represents his carnal hunger for you. When you roll your hips hungrily over his tongue, his cock throbs on his belly where it lays, steadily leaking pre-cum.

“There you go, angel. Use my tongue,” Eddie encourages after pulling away for a moment. The seconds it takes him to say that to you when he doesn’t have his mouth on you are torturous.

Once he gets his tongue back on you, the point of it seeks out that little magic button that has you rolling your hips more aggressively over his face. You’re a messy, moaning angel above him as he tongues at your clit.

Eddie thinks this is the happiest he has ever been; the prettiest girl in the world sitting on his faceher thighs pressing against his ears so tightly her moans are muffled slightly and her cunt on his tongue so wet he can hardly fathom it.

“Mmh, p-please!” You beg, though he’s not sure for what. But he realizes he doesn’t care because you are so vocal and listening to you moan and beg above him is his new favourite song.

Again, Eddie flattens his tongue over your messy cunt, but this time pushes his tongue into your weeping hole, and begins to thrust it in and out as he brings one of his hands up and around to toy with your clit with his thumb. This combination seems to be your favourite as you moan wantonly above him, hands flying down from where they were previously gripping the headboard to crush into the curls atop his head.

“Oh, God,” You moan, shivering above him, totally blissed out as your eyes roll into the back of your head, your eyelids slide closed, and your head tips back. The delicious slide of his tongue in and out of you combined with his thumb rubbing meanly into your clit is just too much.

Eddie can feel your slick dripping down his cheeks and chin, but he doesn’t mind in the least. In fact, he basks in the sticky mess of it all. Sex is not worth it if it doesn't get messy.

Your hips roll over his tongue again and your hands in his hair pull harshly, causing Eddie to moan at the prickling sensation, cock twitching at the mixture of the pleasure and pain of the action.

“Fuck! G-gonna cum, Eddie! Please, please can I cum?” You plead weakly from above, eyes finding his, which have remained open this whole time, not wanting to miss a single second of this glorious moment.

Unwilling to pull away from you in order to answer, Eddie simply mumbles something that sounds almost like yes against your cunt. You seem to understand though because Eddie can feel you clench around his tongue, all the while his thumb continues to rub tight circles into your clit. Your eyes screw shut as you ride out your orgasm, squeaking out the cutest moan when your mouth falls into a pretty O shape, and you thank him over and over again. Soon, your hips halt their movements and you pull in heaving breaths.

Whimpering as you gently push his hand away from your sensitive clit, you collapse forward against the headboard behind him. You could stay like this for as long as you needed—forever if you wanted to—and Eddie would forever be happy right here between your thighs with your cum smeared across his chin and cheeks and your taste heavy on his tongue.

Unfortunately, that is not a realistic fantasy, and eventually Eddie is helping you off of his face and you’re collapsing next to him, breathing heavily even still.

Rolling over onto his side to look at you, he smiles at the sweat dotting your forehead, and brings a hand up to your face, tenderly stroking your warm cheek with the back of his clean index finger. You nuzzle into the touch and smile lazily up at the ceiling.

Eddie doesn’t have to ask to know the answer to his question, but he wants to hear it from you anyway. Wants to confirm that his dreams have just come to fruition and you are actually laying here, clothes rumpled and your wetness staining his sheets.

“How was that?”

Your head lolls to the side and you gaze up at him incredulously. His face is shiny, covered in your wetness. It causes a new warmth to bloom in your chest.

Despite the fact that you thought it was obvious just how much you’d enjoyed it, you sigh dreamily: “Wonderful.”

And Eddie can’t wait to make you feel wonderful again and again and again, to make you cum so hard you not only see stars, but entire galaxies.

♡*♡*♡

Tag List: @tvserie-s-world @micheledawn1975 @hi-im-a @bbellee @apricxtt @rhirojo @daraperl @lmili @lunatictardis @sw34terw34ther @sarcasm-is-my-form-of-attack @stardust-galaxies @d20eddie @niragis-right-hand-rabbit @bunniwarrior @trashpackbitxh @yoursunnydelorean @seweratwitch @hunnimilkteaaa @pretty-rad-for-a-redhead @a-villain-vying-for-attention @lil-graveling @msmimiandrew @eddies-lover @whoreforhowl @saramelaniemoon @brittanyyydamnit @winnifredburkleismyhero @edsforehead

4K notes · View notes

cosmerelists · 3 months

Text

Stormlight Characters Switch Roles for a Day

As request by anon. :) [Some spoilers for Stormlight! Includes some roles people only have in later books]

It's important to me for you all to know that these combos were generated by a random number generator. Here is how fate (=random number generator) has decreed that Stormlight characters will be swapped around! How will they do in their new job?

1. Renarin takes on Jasnah's role as Queen of Alethkar

Renarin: [smiling beatifically] Rlain: You're stressed out of your mind, aren't you? Renarin (calmly): I am about to vibrate out of my skin, yeah. Rlain: Does it help that we already have three preemptive surrenders from nations who "don't want to risk angering the all-seeing prophetic god-king of Alethkar"? Renarin: What?! Rlain: Just kidding. Rlain: ...There's only been one surrender so far. Renarin: ... Renarin: I didn't even SAY anything!

2. Navani takes on Kaladin's role as leader of Bridge 4

Navani (Hour 1): I'm not a commander, of course. I'll stay out of the way and allow Teft and the other lieutenants to handle things. Navani (Hour 4): I'm not a commander, of course, but I have suggested a few small improvements. If Teft and the other lieutenants can make them work, then that's great. Navani (Hour 8): With the help of Teft and the other lieutenants, we have created nineteen new devices that have improved the efficiency of Bridge 4 by 35%. I'm so glad I can support them in some small way. Navani (Hour 12): Wait a second...I'm actually amazing at this.

3. Shallan takes on Adolin's role as duelist

Jakamov stands in the dueling ring, frozen. The 7 Shallans surround him, taunting him. One of them seems to know all of his secrets. One of them wears the face of an old girlfriend whom he ghosted. One of them has his mother's frown--only her frown. All of them have swords. All of them are watching him. Shallan (actually up in the stands): I'm so great at this, actually. Adolin: Shallan...he's crying.

4. Dalinar takes on Shallan's role as Ghostblood spy

Dalinar tramps into a seedy bar. Everyone takes one look at him and immediately they all file out. He is alone. Dalinar: ... Dalinar: And I wore a fake mustache and everything.

5. Teft takes on Dalinar's role as leader of Urithiru

Teft: Kal...congratulations on becoming the leader of Urithiru. Kaladin: I'M PRETTY SURE THAT'S NOT HOW THIS WORKS

6. Szeth takes on Navani's role as artefabrian

Navani: Well...you've certainly been...busy. Szeth: I am physically incapable of not giving a role my all. Navani: So... Navani: ... Navani: They're all complicated instruments of horrible death, huh? Szeth: I like the one with the spring.

7. Sadeas takes on Szeth's role as the Assassin in White

Sadeas: Ialai...can you have your assassins kill all these men? Ialai: Already sent 'em out. Sadeas: I love you! Sadeas: Wow...this job was so easy and not emotionally taxing in the slightest.

8. Leshwi takes on Sadeas' role as betrayer of Dalinar

Leshwi: I feel like........I'm just going to fly down and stab him. Leshwi: Well, after I introduce myself of course. Leshwi: And allow him to summon his sword for an honorable duel. Lezian: You suck at betrayal. Leshwi: ...Thank you?

9. Rlain takes on Wit's role as the King's/Queen's Wit

Rlain: I see that you have chosen to wear yellow to this feast. Rlain: It was a good choice. It looks nice on you. Wit: I want to cry. Rlain: What? I said it to Amusement.

10. Wit takes on Rock's role as Bridge 4's cook

Wit: As a vegetarian whose morals are supernaturally enforced...I'm gonna introduce you all to a little something I call "Tofu." Rock: YOU'RE FIRED

11. Jasnah takes on Teft's role as Kaladin's lieutenant

Jasnah (holding an enormous notebook): I have some suggestions...Captain. Kaladin: M-My life is flashing before my eyes!

12. Adolin takes on Lirin's role as ultra-pacifist doctor

Adolin: Okay, but...dueling is pacifist, right? No one dies. Lirin: Play-violence is still violence! People get injured and it's so horrible and pointless! Adolin: What about fighting but, like, noble fighting? Lirin: D-Do you know what pacifist MEANS? Adolin: But my sword is my best friend! Lirin: ...every day the Almighty tests my patience.

13. Lirin takes on Renarin's role as Prophet of the Everstorm

Lirin: ...and that is how and why I know that something bad is coming, and why I think you need to prepare to save everyone. Dalinar: Wow...you just...said all that. To me. Directly. With details. Lirin: I understand that you may choose to execute me for blasphemy or whatever, but I couldn't sit back and allow people to die for my own comfort. Dalinar: What a mature and straightforward way to handle that!

14. Rock takes on Rlain's roll as "Parshendi" spy

Rock: Here are everyone's secrets! Rlain: I am...impressed. How did you get all this intelligence so quickly? Rock: People LOVE talking to the cook!

15. Kaladin takes on Leshwi's role as leader of shanay-im

Kaladin: So...you guys...can't die? Shanay-im guy: That is correct. Kaladin (tears welling up in his eyes): S-So...I can be commander of a squad where...no one ever dies? I-Is this happening? Shanay-im guy: However, we have to kill someone and take over their body to return. Kaladin: GOD FUCKING DAMMIT

#cosmere #cosmerelists #Renarin #Jasnah #Adolin #Dalinar #Navani #Shallan #Kaladin #Teft #Rlain #Rock #Wit #Szethj #Sadeas #Leshwi #Lirin #Stormlight Archive #Stormlight Archive spoilers

270 notes · View notes

chososdiscordkitten · 9 months

Text

Obsessive!Choso♡ pt3

pt 2 here content: Choso refers to reader as his gf- other than that no use of pronouns. mention of reader wearing lipstick, obsessive crush to stalker arc :>

(a.n) this is slowly becoming a fic and I don't hate it. I felt lack of inspo last night and did a deep dive into what stalkers do- the red flags before they start the actual stalking lol

taglist: @flam3bird

Obsessive!Choso who almost felt his heart burst when he saw you wave hi at him when you walked into class. Smile on your lips as you walk down to your seat. Hearing your friend speak a little louder than a whisper while taking a practice test, seeing you look back at him and make a face almost asking him, ‘can you believe what she's saying?’ before turning around again, watching your friend lean in close to you and keep pestering you. His eyes watching you turn your phone on under your desk, ‘During a test? What are you thinking-’ he thought, mentally scolding you.

Obsessive!Choso who almost died when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, pulling it out and seeing that you had texted him. ‘can u hear her from all the way over there ?’ reading it and hearing your voice. The realization of, ‘you were thinking of me?’ making him slouch in his seat, feeling his heavily pieced ears start to warm. Staring at your text, looking down at you, noticing you had the conversation still open. ‘Are you waiting for me?’ he asked you in his mind. Quickly screenshotting the notification before opening it, ‘yeah, i can.’ he typed, sending it and seeing you turn your head and smile at him. Seeing you look down at your phone, his heart beating quickly when he saw the typing bubble show up. ‘she keeps asking me what the answers are’, smiling when he saw that your auto capitalization was off, another thing you two had in common. ‘is this not a practice test?’ he typed, thinking how crazy it is that he was talking to you. To you! Person of his dreams, everything he wanted in a partner. You. The person who always greets him with a warm smile, who's always nice to him.

Obsessive!Choso whose heart skipped a beat when he saw you move your shoulders, indicating that you were trying not to laugh. ‘I make you laugh?’ looking down at his phone and seeing you had texted again. ‘dont think she knows that’ you replied, putting your phone away and getting back to the paper in front of you. Making sure to remember to ask you why you're friends with someone like that. ‘You're not the same kind of person- or even on the same level mentally. So why would you be friends with someone who does nothing but bother you?’ Thinking he knew everything about your friendship with this person.

Obsessive!Choso who went to the campus coffee shop, in hopes that maybe you'd be there. Knowing from your instagram stories that you usually came to pick up a coffee after one of your classes. Only this time you weren't here. Pulling out his trifold wallet before paying, looking to see he didn't have any cash, trying to find his card. “Pretty girlfriend.” the cashier said, breaking the awkward silence while looking at the photo of you in his wallet. “Sorry?” he asked, looking at them when he found the piece of plastic. “Your girlfriend-” they continued, eyes pointing at the picture. The sentence made him flustered, not paying attention that some people notice small things like that. Smile on his face as he mumbled a quiet ‘I know.’ before tapping his card onto the screen.

Obsessive!Choso kept those few words in his mind whenever he caught a glimpse of his wallpaper. ‘My girlfriend.’ he'd think, smile on his lips when he would refer to you as that.

Obsessive!Choso saw a picture of your laptop and a notebook next to it in your story. Knowing you were home, knowing that you were waiting for him to text you, you had to be right? Opening the google doc on his computer, seeing that you were on it as well. A few minutes of him watching your cursor type a sentence and delete it. Before seeing a message from the upper right corner of his screen. A message from you, ‘Hey, I know it's late. But I hit a wall with this stupid project- could I call you?’ he read, eyes widening at how right he was. Clearing his throat at how forward you were being. Call? As in on the phone with you?

Obsessive!Choso who almost choked when he heard your voice on the phone. Pressing the phone closely to his ear, closing his eyes with a smile when he heard you say- “Heyyyy”, not being able to find the words to say to you. A small ‘hi’ leaving his throat. Hearing you let out a small giggle before hearing you place your phone down. “So i'm on the doc- and I saw you were on it too-” you started, Choso pictured you. Sitting in front of your laptop, smile on your face while speaking. He could tell by just your voice that you were smiling, smiling while talking to him.

Obsessive!Choso who desperately wanted to record the conversation- well, more like record your voice. He wasn't the one speaking a whole lot. You had gotten used to filling the silences he left in the air, being able to tell that he wasn't much of a talker. But little did you know that he was thinking longer replies, but only thinking them. Smiling when he’d hear you ask a question. You started reading aloud what you had written- making sure it sounded right. Choso accidentally let out a low ‘Mhm’ while hearing you read, closing his eyes in regret when he heard you stop. “You sound so different on the phone-” you started, almost a whisper. He exhaled quietly in relief when he heard your fingers start to press onto the keys of your computer. The call didn't last longer than 20 minutes, you just wanted to ask him his opinion on if what you had so far sounded smart or not. But in his mind, the only real reason you called was to speak to him- to hear him.

Obsessive!Choso who felt like he could die when you told him ‘thank you’ for his help. But when you mumbled a tired, “Goodnight Choso-” before you hung up, made his cheeks flush and his heart pound in his chest. The first time you had ever said his name. Immediate regret filling his gut when he remembered he didn't record it. But he would always remember it, always keep it close to his heart in memory.

Obsessive!Choso was walking to the campus coffee shop after class. Seeing you speaking to some guy- probably one of the so called friends you choose to surround yourself with. Slowing his pace when he saw you slowly backing away from him- and nodding no at him. Seeing this guy, reach for your arm, speaking over you as he stepped closer. Even from a distance he could see your face look uncomfortable. At that moment, Choso didn't know what came over him. He walked over- more like storming over. His face full of anger, slapping a sweet smile onto it when he saw you look over at him. “I was just about to go find you.” Making sure to keep a sweet tinge in his tone when he spoke to you. Smile of relief on your face when you saw him. Dark eyeshadow and combat boots almost making you feel safe. A quiet ‘hey’ trailed from your lips, feeling the stranger's hand fall from your arm, taking a step back. “Me too, I wanted to bring up-” you started. Rambling about what the professor had taught today, noticing the guy back off before walking away. Seeing you exhale before looking at his face. “Thank you.” you whispered, looking down at your shoes. “A friend?” he asked, his tone deeper than before. Using the same tone he spoke to you while on the phone. “Absolutely not-” you smiled, looking back up at him. “Just some guy from my public speaking class. He's been bothering me since the first day.” You laughed, seeing him crack a small smile, his hands fidgeting with his rings. “Are you busy? I was just about to go grab a coffee-” you started, looking away from him in the direction of the same coffee shop he was going to.

Obsessive!Choso who thought; ‘Aren't you forward. Trying to spend more time with me?’ as he nodded no, “I'm not.” he replied, his hands in his pockets.

Obsessive!Choso who was convinced you were starting to feel the same way he did, even if it was only a week since they paired you together. I mean, who would ask someone if they wanted to have coffee with you? “Sorry if you had plans- or whatever.” you started, walking slowly next to him. “I didn't.” he mumbled, hearing his boots drag onto the concrete. “The least I could do is buy you a coffee!” you exclaimed, ‘No need to thank me- who else but me will protect you from all the horrible men in the world?’ Choso thought, looking over to see you, remembering all the people who have been broken by men who didn't love them. Knowing that you would never have to worry about those silly things with him.

Obsessive!Choso who purposefully switched the two coffees you had paid for- in hopes he'd be able to share an indirect kiss with you. Knowing if he tried to pay, you'd see the picture of yourself he had in his wallet. Sitting down at one of the round tables, heavily ringed hands around the cup as he looked at you pick up his coffee. Making a face when the sour taste hits your tongue. “I think they switched our cups-” You smiled, pushing his cup towards him. Seeing him mutter a feigned ‘Oh’ as he gave you the correct cup. His eyes focused on the light print of lipstick you had left on the black lid. “I could get you a new one- I know some people are huge germaphobes.” You smiled, taking a sip from your cup to wash the bitter taste from your mouth. “There are worse things in the world than sharing a drink with someone.” He murmured, slouching in his seat, seeing you give him a sweet smile in return.

Obsessive!Choso who took one sip of his coffee, only to assure you that it was okay that you had drank from it. Who felt his knee start to bounce with anticipation when he felt the satiny feeling of your lipstick on his bottom lip. Hearing words falling from your mouth, but not listening to them. Thoughts of how technically that was your first kiss with him. Seeing your phone light up on the table, hearing you sigh loudly. And it continued to light up- repeatedly. “Jesus- this girl doesn’t know how to take a hint.” You exhaled, picking up your phone and typing something. ‘Must be the girl from class.’ he thought.

Obsessive!Choso whose lips moved before his brain could process what he was saying. “The girl from class?” he asked, seeing you look up at him and smile. “Yeah- she keeps trying to come over to my house for a sleepover.” You placed your phone down, “That girl is the epitome of peaked in highschool.” You mumbled, Choso finally found an opportunity to ask you. “Why are you friends with her?” he questioned, seeing you inhale at his words. “I chose this college to get away from all the bullies and all the pretentious people who would live the same boring suburban lives.” You started, “And to become myself- to find myself.” You mumbled, looking away from him. “Imagine my disappointment when I got here and it was full of superficial delta chi’s-” You laughed, seeing him return a smile to you. Humming in response to your words. “I was never good with confrontation- The idea makes me anxious and uneasy.” seeing him look at you with his head in his hand. Eyes half lidded while listening to you. His pointer finger tracing doodles onto the table. Liking the way you opened up to him, letting him get to know you. Being able to hear your unfiltered thoughts, not the bullshit you over thought before you posted on your story.

Obsessive!Choso who paid close attention to what you were saying, hanging onto every word that fell from your lips. Feeling yourself cringe at how you just aired out your business to someone who was practically a stranger, not knowing why it was so easy to speak to him. Somehow never sensing any judgment or lack of interest in what you said. Feeling a wave of relief whenever you were able to speak to him- a real person who didn't care about people's opinions. “Honestly I don't know why I'm still friends with her- I've tried to sit in other seats, hoping she wouldn't sit next to me in that class anymore.” You spoke, finally answering his question. ‘I know. I watched you every time you moved seats.’ Choso replied to your words mentally. “I think the reason I'm failing that class- is that I can't focus on what is being taught because she's in my ear the entire time.” You smiled, easing up on the heavy topic. ‘Aha. I knew you were failing- just like me.’

Obsessive!Choso wanted to suggest that you to sit next to him, knowing your childish friend won't follow you if you did. “Failing?” he asked, eyes scanning your features. “Yeah, I was hoping this-” You sighed, “stupid project would help my grade at least a little.” Closing your eyes and leaning back into your chair. ‘Ask me. Ask me and I'm yours. Ask me to help you.’ he thought, fighting off his excitement when you looked at him. Lightbulb practically popped up above your head, “You're doing good in class, aren't you?” you asked, smile on your lips as he nodded yes without thinking. “I know that we were only paired for this assignment- but would you be ok with helping me study?” You smiled, eyes so bright he swore he could see the universe in them. “Of course.” He smiled, seeing you exhale and look down at the table with a smile.

Obsessive!Choso who almost let out a small giggle when he saw your face flush. ‘Are you- blushing?’ he asked himself. The question you asked him didn't make him nervous. He understood most of what was being taught, but he didn't have the energy to physically write the essays, and besides- Choso preferred spending his free time thinking of you. Not of the stupid course work that he didn't need for real life. Trying to get to know you better through your social media. Dissecting every single photo you posted. Zooming into the background of your bedroom, seeing if he could find anything worth researching. A band poster, a shirt on the floor, a stranded bottle of nail polish he could buy so he would match with you- anything that would let him see you. The real you- not the person that you pretended to be with the fake friends you had. The person he saw a flicker of that day at the cafe. The person you came to this college to become.

pt 4 here

(PLS LET ME KNOW IF U WANNA BE TAGGED IN THE NEXT PART PLSSSS) omg thank god I posted this. I am alr writing pt 4 I don't CARE. this is my new passion, wrote this while listening to 'Such Small Hands- La Dispute' Choso thinks this is all fun and games, what happens when he sees I am crazier than he is ?

#jjk #choso kamo #jjk choso #choso my beloved #choso x reader #jujutsu kaisen choso #college au #non curse au #emo choso #sfw jjk

570 notes · View notes

harryslittledaydreamer · 1 month

Text

His Sunflower...

Summary: Everyone knew of superstar Harry Styles. Everyone knows he has people working for him behind the scenes. However, not everyone knows who his secret lyricist is. Her name never in any credits, never mentioned, and never once in the media. But that's how she likes it.

THIS STORY INCLUDES: trauma, SA, muteness, smut, relationships, talks of mental health(anxiety, depression, panic disorder), and death(no main characters)

........................................................

"Hey y/n/n," the familiar deep voice sounded tiredly behind me. I turned my attention from the piano in front of me to the green-eyed brunette in the doorway, making his way into the studio. I looked in his direction, never meeting his eyes, gave a slight small smile and nodded in acknowledgement.

Turning back to the keys, I continued playing a melody I had started early this morning. Grabbing my notebook from beside me, I began writing some lyric ideas down, when suddenly I felt a presence overlooking my shoulder.

"Mitch and Sarah are coming in a few minutes to work on some pieces, do you need anything," Harry asked with a tired but fond smile. I shook my head politely and he nodded, walking away.

—

Let me backtrack a little. I've been Harry's lyricist/songwriter for about a month now, however, I've never spoken a word to anyone since being here. Well, actually, I haven't spoken in about five years, and with me currently being twenty-two, that has been since I was seventeen. I began posting melodies and lyrics on a website, and Harry's producer, Alex, stumbled across me one day, and messaged me on Instagram, asking if I would want to write for Harry. Immediately I turned the offer down due to my muteness and social anxiety, but with a lot of persuasion and going back and forth, I reluctantly agreed. A week after that, he invited me to a cafe to meet up with himself and Harry. Alex, could definitely tell that I wasn't a physical contact person, and opted for a polite head nod as enough of an introduction rather than a hand shake. Harry followed suit with a smile, though not without some curiosity.

Our initial meeting wasn't long seeing as I didn't talk. Alex went over some things, and Harry talked about what he was looking for, to which I nodded and smiled. At the end of the meeting, I typed a quick 'thank you' on my phone and smiled at both of them. The following day, Alex invited me to the studio, and the rest is history.

—

"Hey y/n/n, hey Harry," Sarah greeted with a wide grin in both of our directions. I gave a little wave, and Harry went in for a friendly hug while patting Mitch on the shoulder. After the greeting encounter, everyone got in their space and began messing around with their instrument.

After about an hour or so of writing and switching to play different melody ideas, I stood from the piano bench, and made my way over to Harry. His green orbs looked down at me, and I handed out my notebook with some lyrics I had written.

Licking his lips and picking his lip, he began reading the script. After what felt like an eternity, he looked up.

"Y/n, this is absolutely bloody brilliant," his deep British voice sounded. I offered him a small smile in return.

"Guys come over here, look what y/n/n wrote, " he spoke motioning for Mitch and Sarah. They got up and walked over to us, and began reading my notebook. Waving my hand a little to get their attention, I motioned them over to follow me to the piano. I sat down with their eyes on the back of my head, and began playing the melody for the song. On the last note, I paused and looked behind me. Each of them had tears threatening to spill down their faces. I'm guessing my look of alarm made Harry snap out of it, and he gradually started to clap.

"y/n, that was beautiful, bloody perfect," he said fondly grinning. Mitch and Sarah nodded agreeing with Harry. Mitch slipped from the group walking over to his guitar. He began to play some chords syncing to what chords I played on the piano. For some time, he messed around, came up with a cool picking pattern, and that is how From the Dining Table, my first song written for Harry styles, was born.

……

2 weeks later…

Myself, along with Harry's other band members, were called in for a meeting this morning. No one was told what this meeting consisted of, or the importance of it.

Gathering my tote bag, with some essentials stuffed in it, I slipped my converse on, took a deep breath, and made my way out of my apartment. I don’t drive, so I walk everywhere, including the studio. Upon approaching the building, I spotted Mitch and Sarah laughing about something walking through the front doors. Watching my footsteps until I reached the double doors, I felt my heart begin to race. I was nervous that maybe they were letting some of us go, or the team wasn’t doing well enough. Overwhelmed with my thoughts, with my eyes on the floor, I ran into a figure.

“Whoa, hey y/n/n, careful love, you okay?” a concerned Harry chuckled a little while placing his hands on my shoulders to steady me. Eyes wide with fear of retaliation on his part, I immediately stumbled back away from him with a curt nod, and continued making my way to the conference room.

Eventually, we all settled in and sat around a large table, everyone seemingly a little confused on why we were all there.

“Hello everyone, today, we are announcing to you all that we will be going on tour in six months from now. You all have been working tirelessly, and we thank you for that. With that said, we all need to be cracking down on this new record,” Jeff, Harry’s manager announced with a big grin plastered on his face.

A round of excited applause went around and everyone congratulated Harry with hugs and words of gratitude. Staying in my seat in the far corner, I looked up and met eyes for the first time with the green eyed Brit. For the split second he caught my eye, I think he saw the fear and anxiety behind them. Touring is a huge thing, for any artist, especially someone the size of Harry. Artists are always creating new music, so having a songwriter along the ride will hopefully aid in the making, at least that’s what Jeff said to me after the meeting. Of course, I responded with my usual nod, and proceeded to leave the room along with everyone else. As I was making my way to the side door, I felt a heavy hand on my shoulder.

“Hey, are you sure you’re okay going on tour? I don’t want you to feel pressured or anything. I totally understand and respect if you don’t, I-” I cut his rambling off by softly putting my hand on his and gently nodded.

The look of surprise crossed his features due to the physical contact I initiated. He gave me a warm smile and nodded, while I gently lifted my hand from his. I flashed him a gentle smile goodbye, and continued my way out.

.......

six months later...

"Mitch, Sarah, Charlotte, Pauli are in bus one, Niji, Ny Oh, and Elin are in bus two, and Harry and y/n are in bus three..." Jeff anxiously listed as the rest of the crew and I grabbed our bags. My head immediately looked up, and with wide eyes, I felt my heart drop. Nerves flowed through my veins, and I guess I wasn't hiding it well as I thought I was because Harry looked over and gave me a shy sympathetic smile.

I nervously followed his lead to our respected bus, but not without my hands shaking and lip between my teeth. As my feet made contact with the bus floor, I took in the space. Black slick leather coated the slim couch on the right, facing a small kitchenette and tv. Walking further, I slowly followed Harry back behind a black curtain, that I now know are to the beds. There was one on each side, with storage above for our bags.

Harry reached up to put his duffle bag in the compartment above the left bed, and then made his way over to me with a smile.

"Here," his deep voice gently said while reaching to take the bags from my hands. I quickly but gently let go once his hands met mine on the bag's handles. He lifted them into the similar compartment as he did just moments before, but above my bed.

"I'm gonna shower and head to bed, you are more than welcome to do as you please, and please don't hesitate to get me if you need something y/n/n," Harry tiredly said, seeing as it was now 11pm. I offered a small sincere small nod in appreciation.

He continued to get his bag and head towards what I am assuming is the bathroom, as I got my bag down and placed it on the mattress. I closed the dark colored curtain, took my sleeping shirt out of my duffle, and slipped it on. Realizing I still needed to take my meds, and brush my teeth, I waited for Harry to come out of the bathroom.

A short while later, after taking care of my nighttime routine, I climbed back into the bunk, shut the curtain, and laid on my back staring at the ceiling. Just thinking about the fact that Harry was across from me had my anxiety over the edge. Although I have worked with him over the last half year, and shared occasional friendly encounters, I still didn't trust him, or for lack of a better word, his intentions. Every single man in my life has betrayed me in so many different ways, each resulting in pain and hurt. I couldn't say no to this opportunity though, due to the need for money. Living in an apartment in Los Angeles was not cheap by any means, as well as every other cost that is associated with living. I have no one to fall back on if something were to come up, so being independent has been the only way for me to continue and live.

As my eyes began to drift close, I heard a slight snore a few feet over from Harry. Taking a deep breath, I relaxed my shoulders and drifted to sleep, hoping for no nightmares. Or at least none that would wake up the man across from me.

—-

It’s been about two weeks since the tour started. Saying that everything is hectic is an understatement. Crew members running around, stress etched in everyone’s faces, and the noise of thousands of fans every night has everyone feeling the effects.

Throughout this time, I’ve been writing a lot, as well as trying to find some time for myself. Sharing a space with Harry is difficult. Well, sharing a space with anyone is difficult. I can tell that Harry is increasingly worried about me due to the fact that it’s been almost 8 months and I still haven’t spoken a word out loud. I can tell he’s trying to get closer to me and warm me up. I think that’s why I’ve been slightly distancing myself from him. Getting close to people has only hurt me throughout my life, and I don’t have the capacity to take anymore pain.

During Harry’s show today, I decided to find a quiet space in the arena away from the chaos to write. Deep in my thoughts and hand beginning to cramp, I didn’t realize a figure making their way towards me.

All of a sudden, from my crouched position with my knees bent, a large calloused hand gripped one of my knees. Looking up in surprise and fear, I was met with a scruffy large older looking man, who had a smirk etched on his face.

“C’mon sweetheart, let’s go somewhere else,” the deep voice of the stranger demanded. He grabbed my elbow and tried forcing me up. I tried resisting his grip but I was far too weak to slip out of his hands. He dragged me by my arm, looked both directions in the hallway, and pulled me into a dark room. Suddenly, the light flicked on and he locked the door behind us. I realized we were in some kind of supply room. Eyes widened in fear, I tried to grab the door handle but he was quicker, and grabbed my wrist.

“Don’t even try, bitch,” he laughed mockingly. Tears started welling up in my eyes, and my body shook in fear. The man pulled a roll of duct tape from behind him off a wooden table, unraveled some, and began binding my wrists above my head. His calloused dirty hands grabbed the hem of my pants and roughly pulled them down, along with my panties. Refusing to look at him, I tried focusing on anything else in the room to distract me from the upcoming abuse.

I heard his buckle unlatch and suddenly I felt a deep stinging pressure below. Tears streamed quickly down my scared face. The hands harshly grabbed my bound wrists above me as he started to roughly thrust in me. For what felt like hours, I guess he assumed he was satisfied, so he redressed himself, ripped the duct tape off from my skin, and unlocked the storage room door, leaving me alone with the mess he made.

My body was in shock. The tears stopped minutes ago, but the strong pain and ache remains between my thighs. I slid down the white cinder block wall, curled into a ball, and stared at the wall in front of me. I’m not sure how much time had passed, but I eventually stood, and limped out of the small room. No one was in the hallways as I made my way out. I grabbed my forgotten notebook off the ground, and started making my way back to the dressing room area. Reaching the door handle of my dressing room, I opened it and closed it behind me, and walked to the couch adjacent. I sat there staring at the door in front of me. Any sounds from the outside were drowned out by the shock that took over my body.

“y/n, we are getting ready to leave,” I heard a voice say from behind the door. I couldn’t get myself to move an inch, paralyzed by fear. I’m guessing it had been a few moments since the person who called me, and the handle turned, indicating someone was coming in.

“Hey y/n/n, we are getting ready to-, y/n love, are you ok? What’s wrong?” the worried and confused voice of Harry gently asked. His footsteps grew closer, breaking me from the trance. For the first time in a while, I met his green worried eyes. Standing up, swaying slightly, I stood a few feet from the 6 foot tall Brit. Stepping forward with hesitation, and tears starting down my face again, I walked towards him, and laid the side of my cheek against his chest.

I can tell this startled and surprised him due to his tense body language. I needed comfort. Even though I wasn’t nearly fully comfortable or trusted him, I needed something or someone to ground me. Once his gentle hands met behind my back, softly embracing me, that’s when I broke. Tears rushing down my face, heart racing out of my chest, shaky legs, and I started falling to the ground. Luckily, his hold on me tightened and held me up before I fell further.

“Shh, it’s okay y/n, it’s okay love. You’re safe, you’re okay,” he spoke with sincerity laced in his voice. I couldn’t tell you how long we stayed like that, but he began guiding me out of the dressing room, down the hall to the double doors, leading out to our bus.

I don’t know if it’s the years of neglect, or lack of human contact, but I clung to Harry’s body in the bus. I couldn’t get myself to leave his side. He didn’t seem to want to let go either though. He rubbed my back and spoke comforting words to me as I clung to his torso.

“You don’t need to tell me what happened if you don’t want to, but please promise me y/n, that if you are hurting because someone hurt you, you need to let me know okay?” he said. That’s when I started sobbing again, and that answered his question.

“Shh it’s okay love. I’m right here. Let’s settle down on the couch okay?” he motioned for us to the leather couch. I think he could sense my hesitation because he assured me over and over again that it’s okay. He gently motioned for me to turn on my side. Once on my side, he asked if it was okay if he held me. Although I was petrified and scared, I still apprehensively nodded in agreement. He shifted his body so he was holding me from behind. His arms wrapped around my fragile frame.

I don’t remember falling asleep, but I woke up feeling a weight around my torso. Realization settled in that Harry was spooning my fragile frame. I felt his breath tickle my neck, and I shivered slightly. He must’ve felt my movement because I heard a yawn from behind me, signaling his consciousness.

“Good morning y/n,” his deep morning voice rasped out, as he untangled our bodies. As his arm started pulling away, I unconsciously stuck out my hand and grabbed it. I needed his safety from the world. His face contorted into a surprised look, but as quickly as it came, the look of guilt settled in his features.

“I won’t leave, I promise y/n/n. I just need to use the toilet,” his quiet voice said. I hesitantly nodded, letting him go. As soon as he was gone from my sight, I felt the weight of yesterday’s encounter.

Harry’s footsteps grew louder as I heard him walk back in from the bathroom. As I slowly stood from the couch, his green eyes studied me. My body shook and his large hands were on my shoulders in seconds.

“Here, let’s sit back down, yeah?” he said as a response to my body’s motion. I nodded solemnly and sat.

“I’m not sure what happened yesterday, but I need you to know, y/n, that I’m here. I’ll listen. I’ll do whatever you need me to do okay?” his voice sounded as he sat next to me. Taking a deep breath, I nodded, gently looking up into his green eyes.

….

It’s been a few weeks since the incident, and over that time, I’ve gotten much closer to Harry. Although I can definitely tell he is worried about me and what happened that night, he has since left the decision up to me on when I’ll tell him, or someone, what happened.

During down time, I’ve been writing different lyrics and melody ideas down in my journal. I have completed a song called Matilda, and another called Fine Line. Lyrically, I feel very strong about them, though I'm not sure if the tempo will be too sad for Harry’s type of music. I’m planning on bringing my ideas to Mitch sometime, and hoping he can play around with some instrumental ideas for them.

Besides Harry, I’ve been very jumpy when a male comes into the room that I don’t know. To be fair, I already was due to childhood trauma, but now it’s way more apparent. Harry gives me a look each time he sees the way my body involuntarily flinches, but chooses not to say anything about it, to which I’m very thankful for.

Each night since he held me on the bus couch, he’s let me in his bunker to sleep. Having the weight of his arm allows me the safety I need. When I’m about to fall asleep, he softly kisses the back of my head, and secures his tattooed arm around my torso.

Right now, we are on our way to the next tour stop. Harry is sitting with headphones on, watching some movie on his phone, while I’m adjacent on a seat watching out the massive bus windows. It’s been almost a year since meeting Harry, and at no point has he given me a doubt about his intentions and personality.

See, my last relationship ended up with bruises littering my body, cuts along my skin, and fear etched in my mind. He would throw me against walls, yelling at me for literally anything. He drank and drank until bottles scattered the floor, leaving me to clean up the mess. He would use my body for his own enjoyment and pleasure. I would be left sore for days, all for him to do it repeatedly. One day, on his way home from work, he was involved in an accident, which killed him on impact. As awful as it is to say, relief flooded me when the news broke. His older brother took the house, leaving me with absolutely nothing. I worked odd jobs while having to live with my abusive father. He would smash things against my head, and would lock me in a bedroom for hours on end, without food or water. That lasted for a few months before I had saved up enough money for an apartment. That’s when I began creating on the website where Alex had discovered me.

Fast forward to now, I have come to realize something. I’m developing feelings for Harry. It’s absolutely terrifying to me. Butterflies erupt in my fragile chest when his eyes rarely capture mine, or when the warmth of his hand lingers on me for comfort. His once intimidating aura is now replaced by a sense of safety. When approaching new males, whether it’s at a stop or another venue, he always somehow uses his body to gently shield them from my own.

Shifting his body, my attention focused back on the man behind me. The headphones were off his head, and his phone was placed beside him on the couch. “Hey, I just wanted to let you know that our stop is coming up,” his tired, raspy voice rang out softly. I nodded, making a small amount of eye contact, and mouthed ‘thank you.’ His pink lips turned up into a small grin and proceeded to watch out the window behind the couch.

Once the bus came to a halt, Harry and I stood from our respected areas, and made our way out. Following him into the arena, the sense of dread engulfed my body. Since that night, being without Harry by my side has caused anxiety to bubble inside me. He has insisted I stay in his dressing room during the entirety of the show, for my safety and his peace of mind. I wasn’t going to argue or debate that.

After hours of writing when the bands on stage, they finally run off stage and enter their dressing rooms. Hearing a soft gentle knock on the door, Harry slowly appeared and came in. With a wide smile and adrenaline rush, he walked over to me.

Suddenly, I felt his arms wrap around me gently.

“Hey y/n/n,” he whispered exhausted in my ear. I slowly brought my arms gently around his torso, reciprocating his action. I felt him smile in my hair. I could tell he is exhausted, mentally and physically, from the demanding performances he puts on. I’m not sure how long we stayed engulfed in each other, but he slowly lets me go, and steps back.

“I'm sorry, I just really missed you,” he shyly spoke, blushing slightly. I looked up to him in confusion, seeing as I had seen him a few hours ago. Sensing my confusion, he proceeds to explain himself.

“I just, I don’t know, I love spending time with you y/n,” his shy, sincere voice sounded as he proceeded to take off his outfit, opting for something comfortable. A smile graced my now rosy face. A comfortable silence fell over the small dressing room as he dressed, and as I gathered my notebook.

We walked in silence, Harry in front of me, to our designated bus. As we got in, I tapped Harry on his shoulder softly. He turned around, eyebrows raised in question and lips parted to ask a question, but I cut him off before he had the chance. I hugged him, tight, needing to feel his warmth. Startled a little bit, I felt his arms wrap around me, even tighter. It seemed like we both needed each other’s comfort tonight, and an unconscious agreement to not talk about it.

——

Today marks six months since the tour began. It also marks three months since I’ve realized that I have grown feelings for the pop star.

Tonight is a rough night. Harry woke up with a cold, making his throat sore. He of course powered through the show, however, as soon as he entered the dressing room, I could tell something was really off. His eyes briefly met mine, and when the door shut behind him, he began undressing himself with a slight hint of frustration in his movements. I stood up, and followed behind him to the bus after he changed.

Upon entering our bus, he sat on the couch with his face in his hands. I heard sniffing and could see that he was very distraught. I’d never seen Harry like this before and I didn’t know the reason behind this reaction. Cautiously, I slowly walked and sat next to him on the couch. Sensing my movement, he placed his hands from his face, down on his lap, but kept his head lowered.

“I’m sorry you have to see me like this y/n/n, I’m just so disappointed you know? I didn’t give them my best tonight and they paid and traveled to see me, and I feel like I disappointed everyone, fuck” he whispered at the end. I hated seeing him like this, he pushes himself so hard, too hard.

Despite the hesitation and voices screaming at me in my head to not do this, I softly laid my hand on top of his on his lap. His body tensed for only a moment, but his other hand raised slowly and settled atop mine. I heard a deep breath sound from his lungs as his body visibly relaxed. It took everything in me to not get up a run to my bunk, but I could tell he needed me. I needed him.

By the end of the long draining night, we settled on the couch. His muscular tattooed body behind mine, with our body heat engulfing one another. Thoughts raced through my mind, as I danced around the pros and cons of continuing getting closer to Harry. Throughout this competition in my brain, I must’ve fallen asleep due to the sun now shining through the bus windows.

I slipped away from the couch, and walked quietly to the shared bathroom. Looking at myself in the mirror, I came to a realization. I’ve never felt more safe in my life than I do with Harry. And that realization is fucking terrifying.

——

Weeks later, I found myself cuddled against the British man once again. There was definitely growing tension between us as we started sharing more intimate moments together, like this. I began to take notice of his lingering stares on me, his delicate but affectionate touches, and the warmth we both seemed to feel with one another.

We were watching a movie on the small bus tv, and my head laid on his shoulder. Suddenly, his body slowly moved, making me lift my head off his shoulder. His facial expression clearly held anxiety, and sensing my confusion, his voice began.

“y/n, love, I need to get something off my chest,” his anxious yet cautious voice said as his body turned to face me. Anxiety started to fill my veins, thinking of every worst scenario that could play out. Before my thoughts could go any further, the deep British voice carried out once again.

“Fuck it, I’m just gonna say it. I have feelings for you y/n. I have for a while, and I know that’s wrong because we work together but I can’t not say anything anymore. I know you don’t feel the same, which is absolutely okay love, I-” his voice rambled with nerves and worry, but I gently grabbed his face with my hands on his cheeks, interrupting his little speech. Taking a deep breath, I leaned in, so our faces were merely inches apart. Our eyes met, and he began to close the small gap between our lips. My hands fell from his face as his rose to mine. As our lips touched, every ounce of worry and anxiety melted away. Our lips moved in sync with so much longing interlaced. He gently pulled away, and rested his forehead against mine, with a wide smile gracing his now slightly swollen pink lips.

“Well, that was a great way to get me to shut up,” he chuckled against my face. A small giggle escaped my lips as our eyes met.

For the rest of the night, we stayed cuddled up on our usual couch, just holding each other until we fell asleep.

——

Over the following weeks, the band noticed our new found chemistry with each other and eventually figured it out. They all congratulated us, and were so excited.

Nothing has really changed between us, besides the stolen kisses and hand holding. However, I felt myself beginning to want more. I trusted Harry so much, which is crazy to say given my past. In his dressing room during the shows, I have been practicing using my voice. Since it’s been so long since I last spoke a word, it has been proven difficult, but I am determined to start again.

Tonight, everyone was staying in a hotel instead of our buses due to bad weather. It was safer inside there than the buses, which I think everyone was actually happy about considering we haven’t had an actual bed in months.

With our hands intertwined, Harry got our room key and led us to our suite. As we stepped inside, I heard a quiet “shit” escape Harry’s mouth. There was one bed laying in the middle of the room.

“I’m so sorry y/n/n, I was told there were two beds, let me go see if there’s another room with two,” his distressed voice said as he was about to leave the room. I gently grabbed his arm, momentarily making him stop in his tracks. I looked at him and shook my head. I mouthed ‘it’s okay” with a small smile on my lips.

“Are you sure? I really don’t mind going down-” I cut his rambling off with a small quick kiss to his lips.

We set our bags on the ground, and Harry turned around to put the tv on. As he did, I got my pajamas, really his shirt and boxers that I stole, and I headed to the bathroom. After showering, I dressed myself and finished getting ready for the night. As I stepped out, our eyes met. This was the first time he’s really seen me like this. A blush crept onto his cheeks as he stared at my body. He quickly looked back down to his phone, and pulled the duvet up higher on his body. A little shy smile came over my features realizing how cute he was when he was flustered.

Pulling my side of the sheets down, I climbed into bed, next to him. I could tell he was a little tense, and I was about to type on my phone to ask him what was wrong, however, as he bent down to grab his fallen charger off the nightstand, the duvet fell down slightly, revealing Harry’s problem. My eyes grew wide as I quickly looked back to the playing tv. A blush rose to my cheeks as he settled in back next to me. As time went on, he grew antsy and couldn’t stay still. He looked uncomfortable and I could tell he was trying really hard to keep it together.

“I’m gonna head to the bathroom really quick,” he quickly said as he tried to conceal the tent under his shorts, before trying to stand. I do appreciate him trying to not make me uncomfortable, but little did he know, I wanted him. As he was about to stand and swing his long legs off the side of the bed, I grabbed his wrist.

Our eyes met, his embarrassed but mine full of love. I held my hand up to stop him, as I made my way out of the bed, walking over to his side. I stood between his short-covered legs as he looked up at me in question.

“It’s really okay, I’m sorry, I was gonna go sort this, uh, out,” his flustered voice said as he was attempting to stand back up. I shook my head and placed my hand on his arm, to let him know it’s okay.

I nervously leaned down to kiss him. His lips pushed back against mine but I could feel his hesitation to keep going.

“Are you sure, love?” his deep raspy voice whimpered with hesitation and lust. I nodded reassuringly and brought my lips back to his.

I reached to pull his shirt over his head but his hands pressed on my shoulders to stop me. Before I could do anything else, he said, “let me y/n, I want tonight to be about you, don’t worry about me, I promise.” I simply nodded in agreement but not without nerves shining through my brown eyes. Standing up, he switched our position so I sat on the bed and he stood above me.

“Lay back for me love, I want to make you feel good, yeah?” he whispered with lust filled eyes. Following his words, I moved back on the bed, and shifted my body so my head was on his pillow. He moved to the end of the bed and got on his knees by my feet. He tapped my leg for me to open my legs a little wider to allow him to come closer.

With his request, I moved my legs to the side, and he moved forward.

“Are you positive about this love? We don’t need to do anything. We can stop anytime, just push me away or pinch me,” he spoke sincerely. I nodded with a smile and reached for him. I gripped the bottom of his shirt and began lifting it. He helped me and threw it off his torso somewhere in the room. Tattoos littered his skin and heat radiated off. His eyes met mine for consent to take mine off. I nodded with a shy grin and he proceeded to gently peel mine off. Left in a bra and his boxers, I moved my arms to wrap around myself.

“y/n, love, you are so beautiful, no need to hide my love,” he spoke as he gently moved my arms away from my stomach, to my sides. With his arms on either side of my face, he met my lips with his own. Our tongues danced together as my hands went through his soft curls. A small groan ripped through his chest as I tugged more.

“Can I?” He asked as he kissed down from my lips to my chest, in question to remove my upper garment. With slight nerves, I nodded. With my consent, he tapped my torso for me to arch my back, to allow him access to unclasp my bra. Swiftly, the garment was dropped beside the bed, now leaving me even more vulnerable.

Before I could even think about shielding myself, his lips came down to peck over my exposed chest. He whispered “beautiful” every time he came up for air. His mouth hovered for a second before landing down on my nipple. With a deep breath let out, I felt myself getting hot. He gently sucked one while softly kneading the other with his large hand. My hands gripped his hair tighter in pleasure as his tongue swirled the swollen nub. He alternated between both for a few minutes, until I gently pulled him up. His face was visibly flushed and I could feel the warmth coming from his body down below.

I stared into his green eyes, silently pleading for more. Understanding, he nodded and grinned in silent acknowledgement. His hands found their way to the last piece of clothing on my body. His fingers hooked around the sides, gently pulling them down, away from my body. There I laid, bare, in front of a man. This was the first time that someone cared about my comfort and pleasure. Harry took his time admiring every inch of my body. As his eyes landed on my exposed thighs, his expression faltered for a moment. I knew what he saw. Old scars of the abuse I endured littered the soft skin. Although his gaze lingered, there was not one trace of disgust or anything but love that filled his orbs. Instead, he bent down and kissed from my lips, down to my thighs.

“Is this okay? Are you comfortable y/n/n?” he questioned. I nodded and encouraged him to continue. With my approval, he brought his hand lower. Despite the anxiety of the situation, I felt safe in his hands.

Once his index finger slipped below, a quiet moan slipped from my lips. A grin appeared on his face as he felt my arousal. Using my arousal, he gently glided his finger through my folds. He began to rub my clit with precision and a softness in his touch, as he captured my lips once again. He knew the weight of the situation and how much this was affecting me. Disconnecting our swollen lips, he silently asks for permission. I graciously nodded, and I felt the tip of his finger nudge my opening. Taking a deep breath, I felt him begin to slide in a little deeper. Stilling his finger, he let me adjust. I leaned up to kiss him, and he took the hint to go forward. He slowly curled his finger inside me. A moan escaped my lips and I quickly put my hand over my mouth in embarrassment.

“Hey, no, none of that love, let me hear you, yeah? It’s okay, I got you,” he whispered. He started going a little faster inside me and my body began to tremble. With my eyes rolling back, he whispered little words of encouragement as he slipped another finger beside the one already in me. I felt a little burn, but it was quickly replaced by even more pleasure. He pumped them in and out, curling them up as he went all the way in. I felt a deep burn in my stomach, indicating my orgasm was quickly approaching. I reached down for his hand, and he immediately stopped. I mouthed ‘I want you,’ and his eyes turned an even darker shade of green.

“You are positive love? We don’t have to, I promise,” he said in reassurance. I shook my head with a smile and reached for the hem of his boxers. He helped me out and took them off his toned body. His red leaking cock bounced up to his stomach. Butterflies erupted in my stomach at the sight. He climbed off the bed quickly, and went to his bag. Grabbing what I was assuming was a condom, he got back in between my legs.

“Alright, shit, you’re so fuckin’ beautiful. This may hurt or burn a bit, Love, but just squeeze my hand yeah?” I nodded and as he rolled the latex on, I leaned up to capture his lips. His hands went to my breasts and my head was laid gently on the pillow below. He grabbed hold of his cock, and brought it up to my pussy. Gently sliding his tip through my folds, he teased my clit a little. Taking a deep breath through his nose, he guided his tip to my entrance. I grabbed the back of his neck, bringing his face to mine. As he slipped his tongue in my mouth, he pushed a little further in. Closing my eyes, my heart began to race. Feeling the unsteady beating of my chest, Harry brought up his face.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay my love, you’re safe, open your eyes, it’s me, Harry,” his soft delicate voice spoke. Upon opening my eyes, a sense of security fell over me and I felt safe again. He peppered kisses over my face and he agonizingly pushed in a little bit more. A whimper escaped my throat, and before he could say anything, I brought my hand to his back, and pushed his lower body closer to mine, resulting in him bottoming out. I moved my hand to hold his tightly as a burn fell over my bottom half. Taking everything in him, he stilled inside me, letting me adjust, not only physically, but mentally too.

We stayed in this position for a few minutes, and during this time, I fought the internal battle in my mind. Part of me wanted to tell him I loved him while the other half was scared and not to, cause then it would be real.

I lifted his head from my shoulder, and looked into his eyes. Opening my mouth, after years and years of not speaking, my voice began to sound from my chest.

“I love you,” I whispered. Frozen. That’s what Harry was. Frozen. He stared at me with wide surprised eyes as he was processing the fact that I spoke.

“Oh my god,” he finally whispered with tears glazing his eyes and the biggest smile I’ve seen.

“You… oh my god, I love you so much, so so much,” he whimpered into my hair. Shifting my hips up, he got the hint to begin moving. As he thrusted slowly but deeply, my nails scratched his back. He wouldn’t stop whispering how proud of me he was and how much he loved me.

“I'm close,” I said after a few minutes.

“Me too, my love,” he responded after a second to catch his breath. I could tell he was holding back for my sake. Every single moment of the time I have spent with him, has been nothing but love. His thrusts began to pick up a little, and before I knew it, pleasure rippled throughout my body. My orgasm came over me as harrys did for him. His sheen glowy body stilled as he came down from his high inside me. As he was about to pull out, I stopped him and placed my hand on his hip.

“Please stay,” I whispered pleadingly. Nodding, he positioned us so we were chest to chest on our sides. I felt him growing soft inside me, but feeling him close, after being alone and scared for so long, was needed. With my head in his chest, under his chin, he soothed my skin delicately by rubbing over it. With the post-orgasm rush, our bodies were exhausted. With a final kiss to my hair, he whispered “I love you, my beautiful sunflower.” Before I could question the new nickname, his breathing shallowed out, indicating his now sleeping body.

I can finally say that I am safe. I am loved. I am comforted. And I am in love with Harry Styles.

The End….

#angst #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles angst #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x fem!reader #harry fic #harry styles smut #harry styles x y/n #harry styles

157 notes · View notes

cherrrydragon · 2 months

Text

➤ sweet

← back to main masterlist

read it on ao3

SUMMARY ↳ Peter Parker is sweet. The kind of sweet you can't get enough of. It kind of ruins your life. One day, during lunch, it’s the same as any other. You three are sitting together, not really eating your food, too focused on talking. Then, Peter speaks up, and it kind of throws off your whole existence. “Did Liz get a new top?” His face is resting on his hand as he stares at the girl. You’ve always thought Liz was pretty, and what makes that even more unfair is that she’s nice. She helped you find your way to your class on time, and you have a bad habit of being willing to die for people once they show you even the smallest amount of kindness. pairing: tom!peter parker x fem!reader warnings: just reader having to watch the person she loves not love her. so basically all of us with our fav fictional characters tags/notes: MAJOR pining on reader's side, (not actually) unrequited love, 7k of this is just straight yap my bad, happy ending! wc: 8.5k

Peter Parker is a sweet boy.

He always has been. Even when people shunned him for no reason, he never shed that kind demeanor. He has remained unwaveringly gentle and compassionate.

Your first interaction with him is simply asking him for a pencil. You’ve just rushed into class, barely making it before the bell rang. As you fumble through your bag, you realize you forgot to pack a pencil. Hesitantly, you turn to the boy sitting next to you.

"Hey, uh, do you have an extra pencil I could borrow?" you ask, trying to sound casual.

Peter looks up from his notebook, his eyes meeting yours with a friendly, albeit slightly surprised, expression. He quickly reaches into his bag and hands you a pencil.

“Uh, yeah. here,” he smiled unsurely, handing you a pencil.

“Thanks,” you smile. You notice how he keeps his gaze on you for a moment before turning away.

The rest of the class goes by smoothly, thanks to Peter's pencil. As the teacher drones on, you can't help but sneak glances at Peter, noticing his focused expression as he takes notes diligently. There's something about him that draws you in—a quiet determination mixed with a genuine kindness.

When the bell rings, you suck in a breath and turn to him. “Hey,” you start, extending your hand holding his pencil. “Thanks for letting me borrow it.”

Peter takes the pencil, his fingers brushing against yours. “Uh, yeah. Yeah! No problem.” You think the way he stumbles over words is pretty cute.

Time to be bold. Go for it, [Name]! “Can I sit with you at lunch?”

Peter's eyes widen slightly, caught off guard by your request. He hesitates for a moment, then nods with a shy smile. “I just, I don’t really sit with anyone and you seem nice so–”

“Yes,” he blurts out, wide-eyed. “That’s cool.”

You feel a mix of relief and excitement. “Okay, see you then?”

He nods, a little late. You smile and walk off to your next class, feeling buzzy. You really are looking forward to knowing Peter.

You didn’t really notice him before. He was always in the background, never too far but never too close. He was just a boy you didn’t know, but knew of. But you saw, saw how he was always there, saw how he held the door open for others, saw how he kept his head down and never bothered anyone.

As you anticipate lunch, you imagine conversations, shared laughs, and maybe even a little bit of awkwardness, but in the best way possible. The anticipation grew with each passing period.

Woah, maybe you’re getting ahead of yourself. He might think you’re, like, weird. You really hope he doesn’t.

As lunch finally approaches, you gather your things and head to the cafeteria, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. You scan the room, looking for Peter, and spot him sitting not alone at a table near the window. There’s a boy next to him. His friend probably (who else would it be?). Taking a deep breath, you make your way over.

"Hey, Peter," you greet with a smile as you reach his table.

Peter looks up from his tray, his eyes lighting up when he sees you. "Hey," he responds, a bit more confidently than before.

You turn your attention over to his friend, who is looking at Peter, a bit surprised. “Hello.”

“Hey,” he greets you, discreetly elbowing Peter. “I’m Ned.”

“[Name],” you say.

“Why are you sitting here?” he asks bluntly. You blink at the abruptness of it as Peter hisses, “Ned!”

“Uh,” you stutter, suddenly feeling out of place. “I can go if you want–”

“No!” yelps Peter. “He’s just being stupid. What he means is that, well, we don’t really have any friends. But we’d–” he spares a subtle glare at Ned, “–like to be yours. If that’s what you want.”

His eyes bore into yours earnestly. “Please stay.”

You pause for a moment, processing Peter's earnest plea. Ned looks a bit sheepish now, realizing his bluntness may have come off the wrong way. You glance between them and smile, feeling your nerves ease a bit.

The three of you start chatting, and you quickly find yourself laughing at their silly and nerdy jokes. You learn Peter is really into science and chemistry.

“You know Peter has an internship at Stark Industries?” says Ned, leaning in.

Peter stares at Ned hard. “Oh, really?” you hum.

Peter quickly tries to downplay it, waving his hand dismissively. "It's not a big deal, really. Just a lot of organizing and data entry," he says, clearly trying to stay humble.

You shrug. “I think it’s cool.” You do, you’re impressed.

A hint of a smile crawls on Peter’s face.

When the bell rings, signaling the end of lunch, you feel a pang of disappointment. But Peter looks at you with a hopeful expression. "Um, do you want to sit with us again tomorrow?"

You stare at him earnestly. “Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Okay,” he nods, more so to himself. “See you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow.”

From then on, you become a part of their group, officially Peter’s friend. You learn that Peter is not just smart, but also incredibly kind-hearted. He always goes out of his way to help others, even if it means sacrificing his own time. The bond between you strengthens, and soon you're sharing inside jokes and stories about your classes.

You somehow manage to land yourself a spot on the Academic Decathlon (no, not because Peter’s on the team). But, to be honest, you wouldn’t have tried if not for him. You’ve never considered yourself all that smart, you don’t really try that hard in school. Peter says you’re ‘naturally smart.’ You never gave it much thought, but a compliment from him makes you happy.

“You got this,” Peter assures you before every practice.

One day, during lunch, it’s the same as any other. You three are sitting together, not really eating your food, too focused on talking. Then, Peter speaks up, and it kind of throws off your whole existence.

“Did Liz get a new top?” His face is resting on his hand as he stares at the girl. You’ve always thought Liz was pretty, and what makes that even more unfair is that she’s nice. She helped you find your way to your class on time, and you have a bad habit of being willing to die for people once they show you even the smallest amount of kindness.

“No. We’ve seen that before, but never with that skirt,” replies Ned.

Liz waves at a couple of girls that greet her. You think her voice is pretty.

“We should probably stop staring before it gets creepy though,” notes Peter, still looking at her.

“Too late,” comes a voice at the end of the table. A girl, unbothered and doing her own thing. Oh, that’s MJ. “You guys are losers,” she says, unapologetic. “Except for [Name]. Hi, [Name].”

You wave at her. “Hi, MJ.”

Peter raises his hand in confusion, looking at you for answers. You shrug, not having any. That’s just how MJ is.

“Well, then why do you sit with us?” asks Ned.

MJ flicks her hair out of her face. “Because I don’t have any friends.”

And ain’t that the truth.

“Let’s move to the next question,” hums Liz, flicking through index cards. “What is the heaviest naturally-occurring element?”

You’re not really paying much attention to practice, even though you really should be. You’re too busy staring at Peter.

“Peter, it’s nationals,” you hear. “Is there now way you could take one weekend off?”

Wait, Peter’s not going to nationals?

“I can’t go to Washington. If Mr. Stark needs me, I have to make sure I’m here.” Well, you do like a man who has his priorities straight.

“You’ve never even been in the same room as Tony Stark,” says Flash, doing absolutely jack shit across the room. His voice grates your ears.

“Wait, what’s happening?”

“Peter’s not going to Washington.”

“No, no, no, no.” Felt that.

“Really? Right before Nationals?” asks Liz, wincing at him disapprovingly.

“He already quit marching band and robotics lab,” hums MJ, reading her book. Your fellow members turn to look at her. You know that, but why does she? “I’m not obsessed with him. Just very observant.” Well, you are obsessed with him. Just a little. A healthy amount.

Liz says something to Flash, and at the mention of him you automatically zone him out. You spend the time staring at Peter, who briefly glances at you before looking behind him at the ticking clock.

The rest of the day he’s tapping his fingers against the desk and moving his leg up and down. You barely manage to catch him at the door before he runs off. Peter looks at you, momentarily startled as you catch up to him. He gives you a quick smile, though you can tell his mind is elsewhere.

“Peter,” you say, frowning slightly. “Why aren’t you coming?”

He shrugs, trying to appear casual. “You know already, [Name]. The internship is really important. I gotta be ready at any time.”

“Tony Stark can’t spare you one day?” You raise a brow at him. “I think that goes against some kind of labor law.”

Peter furrows his brows, taken aback. “No, it’s not like that,” he defends quickly, shifting uncomfortably. “Mr. Stark… relies on me. I don’t wanna let him down.”

You give him a sympathetic look. “You’re really smart, Peter. There’s no way that’s possible.”

His gaze softens, smiling secretly to himself. You lightly punch his shoulder, and he gives you a mock offended look. “You’re the whole reason I even joined, and now you’re bailing on the most important day? Fake friends, I swear.” You’re mostly joking, it’s not that big of a deal. But you still would’ve liked him to be there with you.

He chuckles softly, rubbing the spots you hit him (dramatic, you barely touched him). “You’re smart, [Name]. You don’t need me.”

Yeah, you don’t need him, but you want him.

He grabs your hand and squeezes it tightly, briefly, before turning and walking away. “I’ll make it up to you, promise!”

Your heart skips a beat, at both his gesture and his words. “Okay,” you say softly, knowing he’s already gone.

“Hi. I’m Captain America. Whether you’re in the classroom or on the battlefield…”

You wonder how they convinced this guy to stand in front of a camera and yap to a bunch of high schoolers who just simply don’t care. Peter and Ned are mumbling about something, too hushed for you to hear.

“Isn’t he like a war criminal, now?” you mutter. Peter leans in to you to hear better.

He chuckles softly, breath tickling your ear. His proximity sends a warm shiver down your spine. “Sucks, he’s kind of cute.”

Peter chokes, looking at you in surprise. “In, like, a celebrity crush kind of way,” you shrug.

Peter’s face flushes a soft pink, and he clears his throat, trying to regain his composure. “Yeah, um, I guess? I didn’t think you’d like older guys…?” He trails off, fumbling with his fingers. His awkwardness only makes him more endearing.

Ned snickers beside him. “You’re not wrong. Captain America’s got that whole classic charm thing going on.”

Peter shoots him a look. “Dude.”

It’s only natural you and MJ pair up for the exercises. Though, to be fair, you’re not really doing much exercising. Instead, you’re too busy ogling Peter.

“You’re down horrendously bad,” says MJ, unapologetic.

You blink, looking down at her. “Huh.”

“You know what I’m talking about.” She looks unimpressed by your attempt to seem unaware.

The way Peter effortlessly does pull-ups is doing something to you, and it’s really embarrassing. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah, you do,” she snorts. You watch as Peter flicks his attention over to… Liz. Always Liz. Never you.

“Is he staring at her again?” MJ asks, looking over. Your heart sinks a little.

“Doesn’t matter,” you mutter. “He’s just my friend.”

MJ raises an eyebrow, studying you for a moment before shrugging. “If you say so.”

“Peter knows Spider-Man!”

The entire gym looks over at Ned and Peter. Um. What was that, Ned? Peter gets up, sputtering and denying Ned’s claim.

“They’re friends,” says Ned.

“Yeah, like Coach Wilson and Captain America are friends.” Your nose scrunches up at Flash’s words. MJ catches it and nods her approval.

Peter glances around nervously, his eyes meeting yours for a split second before darting away. You feel bad for him, even if he doesn’t have need for anyone’s pity. Peter is cool, and really smart. He’s also really cute, and he bites his lip when he’s focused on something. He can’t sit still for very long, and he has a bad habit of running his fingers through his hair when–

Yikes, girl. Focus.

Wait, Liz’s party?

“Yeah, I’m having people over tonight. You’re more than welcome to come,” she nods, demeanor kind of shy.

“Having a party?” Peter’s voice is breathy, and it makes your fingers clench.

The bell rings before Peter can decline (or accept, because why would he ever decline?) and Liz spares him a look as she walks away. Peter looks up at the ceiling in frustration, turning to Ned to snarl something at him.

Probably upset because Flash made fun of him in front of the girl he likes, you think miserably.

You help MJ up off the floor, waving her goodbye as she leaves. Your legs are barely able to talk you towards the door, wanting to go over to Peter. You can’t take your eyes off him, but you know you have to, so you tear them away and walk out.

As you walk away, you can't help but feel a mixture of emotions swirling inside you. Peter's feelings for Liz are clear, but you can't deny your own growing affection for him.

“[Name]!” Peter’s voice is very recognizable (to you at least). You hear his footsteps rush over, coming to a stop by your side. You turn to face him, your heart pounding. "Hey, Peter," you say, trying to sound casual.

He looks at you, his expression a mix of frustration and something else you can't quite place. "Hey, uh, I just wanted to say... about what Ned said earlier. I mean, he's just being, you know, Ned."

You nod. “It’s okay Peter, I think it’s cool you know Spider-Man.” Everything about him is cool.

Peter’s eyes widen slightly at your words. "Really? You do?" He seems both relieved and surprised by your reaction. He crosses his arms, trying to seem casual. “And, uh… what do you think about Spider-Man?”

Peter's question catches you off guard. You stare at him, a bit taken aback by his curiosity. “Well, I think he’s a hero,” you shrug. “Reliable.”

Peter kind of… stares. In awe of you. Then he snaps out of it, cheeks flushing as he looks down.

He clears his throat, changing the subject. “So, uh… you going to Liz’s party?”

You hadn't considered it, but the idea of spending more time with Peter, even if Liz is there, is tempting. Even so…

You purse your lips. “Probably not.”

He furrows his brows. “What? Who am I gonna go with?”

You snort. “Ned? Who else?”

“You.” He says it so absolutely it almost makes you fall to your knees. The idea is both thrilling and a bit nerve-wracking. The last thing you want is to feel out of place at a party, especially with your growing feelings for Peter.

“You want me to go with you?” you ask, trying to sound nonchalant even though your heart is racing.

Peter nods earnestly, his gaze locking onto yours. “Yeah. I mean, if you’re up for it. It’d be… nice.”

“I’ll… think about it.”

Peter’s face brightens up instantly, a mixture of relief and excitement evident. “Ok. Cool! I’ll, um. Hope to see you there.” And then he’s off to do his own thing.

When you arrive at Liz's house, you immediately spot MJ, and it puts your mind at ease. She’s in her own world, happy to snack on the foods there. She looks up as you approach.

“Sup.”

“Hi.”

You stand together awkwardly. Well, you’re awkward, and she’s cool. The party is in full swing, with music playing and people milling about, making the large living room feel even more crowded.

It’s embarrassing how fast you spot Peter. It’s as soon as he arrives. He’s decided to keep it casual, but you think he looks good. Really good. God, MJ was right, you are down bad.

Speaking of which, she nudges you and nods her head in Peter and Ned’s direction. “You should go say hi to him.”

“But…” Liz is there. To be fair, she’s probably only greeting them. Saying ‘thanks for coming’ you know. But even so… you’re not sure you want to watch Peter’s attention stay on Liz when you’re also there.

You take a deep breath and muster up the courage to approach Peter. MJ gives you a supportive nod, and you make your way over to them.

“Hi, Peter,” you greet, trying to sound casual despite the fluttering in your chest.

Peter turns to you, his face lighting up with a genuine smile that makes your stomach flip. “[Name]! You’re here.” His eyes are warm and welcoming, and for a moment, you forget about the rest of the party.

You nod, peering around him to greet Ned. “Hi, Ned.”

He gives you a small wave. “Hey, [Name].”

Peter's smile widens as he steps a little closer to you, clearly excited that you're there. His eyes roam your figure. “You look good.”

Your face warms. “Thanks. You too.”

“Dude. Peter,” says Ned, grabbing Peter’s arm. He begins to pull Peter away. “Sorry, [Name]. Gotta talk to him about something.” Peter looks affronted by Ned’s behavior, sending an apologetic glance your way.

You watch as Peter and Ned head off to the side, leaving you standing by yourself. A little awkwardly, you try to blend in with the crowd, scanning the room.

“Penis Parker, what’s up?”

Ugh, Flash. Who let him on the sound desk? He says a few mocking words, and suddenly Peter’s walking off somewhere.

You jog to catch up to him. “Peter, please don’t listen to Flash. He’s just an asshole.”

Peter stops in his tracks, looking back at you with a mixture of surprise and frustration. He opens his mouth to say something, but then closes it, clearly struggling to find the right words.

“[Name],” he starts, voice honey sweet, “I’m not worried about Flash, I just…” He looks around for a moment, searching for whatever words he wants to say. “I gotta go do something. I’ll be back.”

You watch as Peter rushes out of the house, deflated. You feel a mixture of concern and confusion. The party goes on as if nothing happened, but your thoughts are entirely focused on him.

In a moment of impulsiveness, you decide to follow him. The cool night air hits you as you step out onto the porch, scanning the surroundings for any sign of Peter. Damn, where did he go? He’s fast. You walk down the front steps, glancing around. “Peter!” you call out, trying to catch his attention.

A movement catches your eye. Around the side of the house, on top of the neighboring ledge, there’s someone there. Your ears can barely pick up the rustling of clothes. Weird place to change clothes. How the hell did that guy even up there?

Wait a damn minute.

That guy is Peter. How the hell did he get up there so damn quick?

You keep yourself pressed against the wall, peeking around the corner. Why the hell is Peter even changing his clothes? He looks fine. Good, even. Wait, he’s changing his clothes. Maybe you shouldn't be spying on him, that’s weird. Oh, wait, he’s wearing something underneath. Something red and black, with web patterns on and a spider symbol on his chest.

…

Oh. Oh!

What the fuck!

As Peter pulls his undershirt off, you get a glimpse of him in his full Spider-Man glory. Holy shit, Peter Parker is Spider-Man. You knew there was something special about him, but this? This is a whole different level. The red and black suit, with its sleek, form-fitting design, is unmistakable. The spider emblem on his chest is a dead giveaway.

You swallow down the knot in your throat, willing your body to turn and go back inside.

He doesn’t come back.

You leave when Flash starts his ‘when I say Penis, you say Parker’ chant.

The yellow blazer feels tacky, but you’re required to wear it as part of the Academic Decathlon. Though, MJ isn’t wearing hers, so maybe you can get away with taking it off until you get to D.C.. But MJ is MJ.

“Hey, it’s Peter!”

What.

You turn around, seeing Peter run up to your group. Peter’s face is bright with excitement as he approaches your group. His usual nervousness is replaced by an eagerness you haven’t seen before. It’s like a different side of him is on display.

“I was hoping I could rejoin the team,” he says, looking at Liz.

And he’s welcomed back with open arms. He decides to sit next to you. You’re pretty sure because it’s closest to Liz, and because Ned has decided to sit in the back. You wonder if Ned knows his identity.

He nudges you with his arm. You’re snapped back to reality, looking at him. He’s staring at you, brows furrowed just the smallest bit. You feel your traitorous heart skip a beat, like it always does when he’s around.

“You okay? You’re quiet,” he murmurs, voice low.

You manage to nod, not having much to say. Are you mad that Peter kept this secret from you? No, of course not. There was never any obligation for him to tell you, or even anyone. It’s a pretty big secret to have, after all. Though, now you wonder if him being Spider-Man has something to do with that Stark internship…

Peter’s eyes linger on you, a mix of concern and curiosity. You can sense he’s trying to gauge how you’re feeling. It’s a little uncomfortable, you’ve never really had to lie to him before, and you’re not sure if you’ll be able to. You’ve just discovered one of the biggest secrets in your life, and it’s about someone who’s become so important to you.

His phone starts ringing. You peak at it, someone by the name of ‘Happy’. Weird name, but okay. He moves to the back of the bus to take, settling in next to Ned.

You sigh, slouching in your seat. You can’t believe your life.

At least you get to room with MJ. You’re just about to fall asleep when Liz comes knocking on your door, saying that she and the rest of the team are going to sneak down to the pool. MJ decides she’s going to come. For ‘enrichment’ she says. You on the other hand… kind of just want to stay inside right now.

Until another knock on your door rouses you from your would-be sleep. Again . You grumble as you make your way to your door, opening it to find Peter, his face a mix of uncertainty and hopefulness. “Hey,” he says, looking nervous. His hood is over his head. You think he’s got his suit under there.

You don’t bother trying to fix up your appearance since you truly doubt he doesn’t see you like that. “Hello?”

“Uh,” he mumbles, gesturing away from him. “You… weren’t with the others. Are you not going to go with them? To the pool?

You shake your head. “No, not feeling it.”

“Oh,” he nods, like it was obvious. “Are you, sick or something?”

“No.” You don’t mean to be blunt with him, but you don’t really know how to act around him anymore.

“Oh, Okay.” He shifts back and forth on his feet. “Can I come in?”

You open the door wider to let him in, never able to say no to him. Peter steps are hesitant and awkward, deciding to sit on the leaning against your bed, while you sit on the mattress.

“So..?” you prompt.

Peter licks his lips, looking down to fiddle with the hem of his hoodie. “I, um, wanted to talk. About... the party. Liz’s party.” For a moment, your heart races. Did he know you were there? He glances up, his gaze meeting yours with a mix of vulnerability and determination. “I didn’t mean to, uh, leave you hanging. I just... had to go take care of something.”

You nod, understanding differently to what he knows. “It’s okay, Peter. I get it. I mean, you had... you had something important to do.”

Peter takes a deep breath, clearly relieved by your reaction. “I just... I didn’t want you to think I was avoiding you or anything. I shouldn’t have left you hanging like that.”

Peter’s earnestness tugs at your chest. He’s going to give you a damn sweet tooth. You can’t help but feel a mix of admiration and frustration. “Peter, it’s fine,” you say softly. “You don’t owe me any explanations.”

He shakes his head, his expression earnest. “But I do. I care about you, and I don’t want there to be any misunderstandings between us.”

Your heart skips another traitorous beat at his words. His sincerity is disarming, and you find yourself wanting to reassure him, even though you’re the one grappling with this newfound knowledge about his double life. Why does he have to say things like that?

“Are you not going to the pool?” you ask, gesturing to his get-up.

He scratches his cheek, shaking his head. “No I… gotta… do something.” His voice gets quieter the more he speaks, realizing he’s just quoted the very thing he just apologized for. You snort, unable to help yourself in reaching out a brushing a curl away from his face. His eyes soften, and he reaches out, tentatively taking your hand.

Your fingers brush against his, and there's a moment of silence as you both just look at each other. Peter’s grip is gentle, as if he's afraid of pushing too much, too soon. You feel the warmth of his hand, and for a second, you forget about the secrets and the confusion.

After a moment, Peter clears his throat, his expression shifting back to a more familiar, awkward smile. You snap back to reality. “You should, uh, probably go do that thing.”

He nods, not meeting your eyes. “Yup. Gonna go do that thing now.”

He’s out the door before you can blink.

Peter doesn’t come back in time for the Academic Decathlon. MJ wins you the last point, anyway.

You’re just out of earshot as Ned talks to what you assume is Peter on the phone. You look away when Liz takes the phone and begins to speak to him.

Your coach decides it’ll be fun to have a tour of the Washington Monument. You zone out during the long elevator ride, thoughts drifting to Peter. Always Peter. You wonder if you were his girlfriend, would he look to you to patch him up when patrol gets rough? Would he take you away, swinging through the night while he tells you how pretty you look–

There’s a bright light, and everything goes deafening as a loud sound explodes within the elevator. Everything comes to a stop. Ned throws his backpack on the ground, frightened.

“Oh my God. Look at the ceiling.” There’s terrifying scorch marks on it.

“Just stay calm, everyone.”

“Oh, we are all going to die here.”

You don’t listen to anymore of what anyone has to say, too focused on steadying yourself against the wall. Holy shit. Peter better be hauling ass back here, now .

Security pushes the failing doors open, and the elevator hatch is opened as your group is prepared for evacuation. It’s a scary process, and you feel like you’re just waiting for the elevator to give up and start plummeting.

Flash, always an asshole, shoves Liz out of the way, taking the trophy with him. You scoff in disbelief as he says, “Take my trophy!” ready to give him a piece of your mind, because by God, you are in a life or death situation and he still finds the time of day to be himself–

Speaking of death.

The elevator just gave up.

You are actively falling to your resting place right now.

You can’t hear anything over the sound of everybody else’s scream. You can’t even bring yourself to scream. Even as you’re about to die, you hold yourself back, just as you always have. You’ve held yourself back when it comes to school, not putting in as much effort as you could’ve, and you’ve held yourself back from telling Peter how you feel.

Now you’ll never get too.

Except the elevator jerks to a stop, almost sending you to the floor.

There’s a web attached to the top. You can barely see a red clad figure connected to it.

Nevermind, maybe you will get to.

And then the doors he’s held up against break off the hinges and you’re falling again, spider included like a package deal. The damned box catches itself on something, and the love of your life has a rough landing as he falls into the elevator with you. Oof.

Unfortunately his impact knocks the elevator off, and you’re falling. Again. If you make it out of this alive, you’re going to take a five year nap. Peter, with all of his amazing smarts, sends a web to the top of the shaft and plants himself upside down in the elevator, stopping the thing.

He clears his throat. “Hey, how you doing? Don’t worry. I got you.” Why do you love this loser.

You stand with your whole body tense as Peter makes the perilous journey of dragging your group back up, slowly and steadily. You’re gripping the handrail so tightly your knuckles turn white. Every jolt and creak of the elevator feels like a death sentence. But Peter – no, Spider-Man – is pulling you up, inch by inch.

Ned is out first, then Mr. Harrington, and Liz clutches your hand tightly as it’s just the two of you left.

But then the floor shoots out from under your feet. Liz, ever so pretty and ever so brave, jumps out, reaching a hand for Spider-Man.

She misses, and for a split second it’s just you and her falling. And then there’s a thwip sound and suddenly you’re not falling. You’re just hanging. Hanging by a thread. Or a web, you should say.

“You’re okay. You’re okay.” It’s the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard.

Spider-Man grips Liz’s hand so tight and so assuredly, you feel like everything’s okay. Liz’s hand feels warm. Really warm. Probably all the sweat from it.

The sweat from it.

Sweat that’s making your grip come loose.

Liz looks down, terrified. “She’s slipping.”

“What–” chokes Peter.

And your hand falls from her grip. This time, you let yourself scream. The mask Peter wears gets tinier and tinier as you fall. The sensation of free-fall is overwhelming. It’s like you’re completely weightless. You wonder if this is how Peter feels when he’s swinging through New York. You also wonder he ever feels the twisting of your stomach.

You feel something wrap around your waist tightly. You’re yanked back up with a sharp tug. The warmth of an arm is something you’re not all that foreign to. You’ve been hugged by your family and friends before. But not like this. It… kind of feels like home.

“I got you, [Name].” Is whispered in your ear like a prayer. “I won’t let you fall.”

Peter’s voice in your ear is like a lifeline, pulling you out of the chaos and fear. The sheer relief of his presence makes your heart pound in your chest. You cling to him, arms wrapped tightly around his neck as he swings you both out of the elevator shaft and onto the relative safety of the doorway.

You can hear the panicked voices of your friends, but all you can focus on is Peter, his breath coming in quick gasps, his suit slightly torn but his grip on you unyielding.

“Are you okay?” he asks, voice trembling slightly.

You can only nod, your throat too tight with emotion to speak. Tears blur your vision as you look at him, your best friend, your hero, the boy you've been in love with for so long.

"You saved me," you whisper, your voice breaking.

Peter tilts his head, voice a little wobbly but genuine. "Couldn't let you fall," he says simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

He gently lets go of you, leaving you to connect back to the real world again.

“So, uh, is everyone okay?” And just like that, things go back to the way they were.

Then the piece of metal he’s hanging upside-down from breaks off, and he’s falling down the shaft.

He’ll be fine.

The school news plays on a nearby team, retelling the events in which you almost died. Weird flex, but okay.

You’re on your way to your next class when arms suddenly wrap around you. You blink. Uh…

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” says a sweet voice. Ah, Peter. Who else but Peter? You smile and melt into his embrace. “Hi, Peter.”

He pulls back slightly, his eyes scanning your face as if checking for any hidden injuries. “You sure you’re alright? That was... intense.”

You shrug. “Yeah.” Then, you feel like being mean. Only a little bit. As a treat. “How would you know, though? You weren’t there.”

Peter’s eyes widen in confusion, a frown pulling at his lips. “What do you mean? I was there. I–” Then he stops himself. He was there, just not as Peter. You raise a brow.

Peter’s face goes through a series of expressions—confusion, realization, and finally, a nervous chuckle. “Oh. Right.” He scratches the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I just–”

You roll your eyes halfheartedly. “Had to do that thing, I know.” Maybe you’d be more upset if you didn’t know any better, but you do. Maybe you’re just tired from everything.

Peter’s apology falters as he looks at you with those big, apologetic eyes. He seems so earnest, so genuinely concerned. He gives you those puppy dog eyes, filled with guilt and embarrassment.

“Look,” you say, taking a deep breath to steady yourself, “it’s fine. Really. I’m just glad you’re not hurt.”

“Come on,” he whines halfheartedly. “Let me make it up to you.”

You look at Peter, a mix of exhaustion and affection in your eyes. Despite everything that happened, you can’t help but find his earnestness endearing. “Alright,” you say, managing a small smile. “Here’s my proposal.”

Peter's eyes light up with a hopeful glimmer, and he leans in closer, eager to hear your proposal. You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the day lifting off your shoulders as you prepare to make your request.

“If neither of us get a homecoming date,” you begin, watching as Peter’s eyes flick back and forth between yours, “we’ll go together.”

Peter's eyes widen with surprise and a hint of nervousness. For a moment, he seems lost in thought, processing your proposal. He takes a deep breath, as if trying to steady his racing heart, and then he nods with a flushed face.

"Deal," he says, his voice steadying. "But let's hope neither of us ends up dateless, okay? I mean, it's homecoming. It should be fun."

His words kind of sting. He basically just said he hopes he can find a date that’s not you. You’re not sure if the fact that he’s willing to go with you if things don’t work out is a good thing or not.

“Yeah, let’s hope,” you reply, trying to keep your tone light. Peter gives you a reassuring smile, though there’s an awkward tension between you now.

“Parker, my office.”

Peter looks at you exasperated. You shrug. Looks like Peter has detention.

The next couple of days, Peter looks down in the dumps.

He just seems… less like himself. Still as sweet as ever, holding doors open for you and carrying your bag. It’s hard to miss the way his usual enthusiasm is replaced by a constant air of melancholy.

You notice him moping in the hallways, his usual banter replaced by awkward silences. In class, he doesn’t seem any different, but you can tell the way he zones out when he’s not answering a question.

You try to give him space, but it’s hard to ignore the sense of worry you feel. You don’t want to pry, but you also don’t want him to sink into a deeper funk. Perhaps it’s in your nature to want to make him happy.

May greets you with a smile when she sees you on your doorstep. She’s always been kind to you. Maybe too kind. May always let little teasing comments about you too getting together slip. Peter always waved away her comments, chuckling awkwardly and saying ‘she’s just kidding’. Not very healthy for your heart.

Peter’s sitting on his bed, lost in thought. He jerks up as soon as you enter, staring at you in surprise. “[Name]!”

“Hi,” you greet, coming to sit next to him.

“What are you doing here?”

“Well, I can leave if you want,” you hum, point a thumb out the door. It’s mostly a joke, you really hope he doesn’t actually want you to leave.

Peter looks a bit flustered by your presence. “No, no, don’t go. I just… didn’t know you were coming.”

You lean back on your hands. “Well, when you’ve been acting weird the last couple of days, I’m gonna get worried.”

Peter slumps in on himself, sighing. He contemplates for a second before meeting your eyes. “I lost the internship.”

The internship. The Stark internship. The one you’re pretty sure is a cover for him being Spider-Man. Who hasn’t been active in a couple of days. Oh.

You give him a sympathetic look. “Peter, I’m so sorry.”

Peter nods, his gaze dropping to the floor. “Yeah, well, it’s my own fault. I was… I messed up. Tried to overcompensate, and it didn’t work out.”

You can see the frustration and disappointment in his eyes. He’s always been so driven, so dedicated. To see him like this, struggling with something that clearly matters to him, tugs at your heartstrings.

“It’s not your fault,” you say gently, trying to offer him some comfort. “Sometimes things just don’t go as planned, no matter how hard you try.”

Peter offers a small, bitter smile. “I guess. It’s just… I don’t know.” He looks in a faraway corner. “It was all I had.”

You purse your lips, wanting to scream ‘you have me!’, but you can’t bring yourself to.

Peter clears his throat. “At least I got that date with Liz.”

…Huh?

You think there’s a ringing in your ears. Your heart sinks as Peter mentions Liz. It feels like a punch to the gut. You try to mask your surprise, keeping your tone steady. "Wait, you got a date with Liz?"

“Yeah…” he chuckles shyly. “I asked her to homecoming. She said yes.”

You nod slowly, trying to process this new information. It's not exactly a blow to your heart, but it's definitely unsettling. Peter, the person you’ve had feelings for, is going out with someone else.

Though, you shouldn’t be surprised, really. You knew Peter liked Liz. If the way he stared at her wasn’t obvious enough, then the fact that he asked her to hoco is. And the fact that she said yes… God, you need to get over yourself. It’s not the end of the world. You just…

You really wanted to go with him.

“So… who’s your date?” he asks, oblivious to your inner turmoil.

You bring your legs up, wrapping your arms around them. “Nobody. I think… I’m not gonna go.”

Peter’s face falls at your words. He opens his mouth as if to say something, but then closes it, clearly at a loss for words. “Why not?”

You shrug. “I don’t have a date. Don’t wanna go alone.”

He furrows his brows. “I thought you did.”

Now it’s your turn to look confused. “No. Why did you think that?”

“You…” he trails off, looking lost. “I heard you. Talking about your crush”

“When did you hear that?”

He gulps, turning away guiltily. “In. Gym… class.”

You take a moment to think back. The only time you ever talked about your crush in gym was with MJ, that time Ned mentioned Peter knows Spider-Man. But that time…

“How did you hear that?” you ask, kind of knowing the answer. “You were, like, twenty feet away from me.”

He blushes. “I, uh… have really good hearing?”

You squeeze your eyes shut. Whatever. At least you didn’t mention Peter’s name. “Yeah, well, he doesn’t like me back. So.”

Peter’s face softens as he processes your words, a mixture of guilt and concern evident in his expression. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly.

“Don’t be. He likes someone else. Can’t be helped.”

Peter is silent for a moment, his eyes searching your face as if trying to gauge your feelings. There’s a tension in the air, a weight that seems to hang between you. He opens his mouth to say something, but no words come out.

You breathe, patting your thighs as you stand up. “Hope you have fun, though.”

Peter watches you go, feeling like he missed something.

True to your word, you don’t go to homecoming. You spend the night watching a movie and eating popcorn. You don’t cry, but you do sniffle.

You catch wind of the battle between this guy (Liz’s dad , holy shit, you hope she’s doing okay) and Spider-Man. The next time you see him at school, you run up to him.

“Peter!” you shout.

Peter snaps out of his thoughts, turning to you. A small smile creeps up on his face at the sight of you. “Hey, what’s up–”

His words stutter to a stop as your arms wrap around him. Peter freezes for a moment, clearly taken aback by your sudden hug. Slowly, his arms come up to return the embrace, holding you tightly. He feels warm and solid against you, a comforting presence despite everything that's happened.

“What’s wrong?” he asks softly.

You melt into his embrace. “Just glad you’re okay.”

He pulls back to look at you, arms dropping to hang around your waist. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

You can’t help yourself, cupping his cheek gently. Peter's eyes widen slightly at the tenderness of your touch. For a moment, he just stares at you, as if trying to decipher the reason behind your concern. He ever so slightly leans into your hand, doe eyes looking into you.

“You’ve just… been through a lot lately,” you decide to say.

Peter takes a deep breath, his gaze dropping to your hands resting on his cheek. He seems to be grappling with his emotions, his usual composure wavering. “I didn’t realize you were so concerned,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smile gently, brushing your thumb across his cheek. “Of course I am. You’re important to me, Peter.”

Peter’s mouth opens and closes, unable to form words. He gulps, shifting on his feet. The tension in the air is thicker than it’s ever been, though you can’t tell why.

Peter thinks he just had an epiphany.

He takes a deep breath, hands on your waist tightening. “Hey, um. Can I… can we talk later? After school?”

You nod. “Yeah, of course.”

Peter nods as well. “Cool, cool.” His hands fall from your waist when his phone buzzes, and you finally feel like you can breathe. “I gotta take this,” he says, already walking away from you.

Peter texts you before the last bell rings, saying that something came up and if you can push your talk a few hours ahead. Your fingers shake as you type out your reply agreeing. You do your homework in silence, foot tapping up and down nervously. The sun is on the cusp of setting when there’s a knock on your door.

“Hey,” Peter greets you when you open it. He looks out of breath, like he just ran here.

“Hey,” you respond, trying to keep your voice steady.

Peter shifts nervously on his feet, glancing around before focusing on you. “You’re parents home?”

You raise a brow. “No..?”

“Good.” He moves past you, making his way to your living room. You close the door and follow him, heart pounding in your chest. Peter paces for a moment before taking a deep breath and turning to face you.

“I,” he starts, voice unsteady, “have been doing a lot of thinking.”

You remain silent, waiting for him to continue. Peter runs a hand through his hair, clearly struggling to find the right words. “I’ve been focused on the wrong things. I know I haven’t really… been there. So, I’m sorry for that.” He wrings his hands together. You watch Peter with a mixture of anticipation and concern, your heart racing as he continues to struggle with his words.

“And, um, I guess, what I’m trying to say is…” He looks directly into your eyes, a mixture of vulnerability and resolve in his expression. He takes a deep breath.

“I–”

“–Know,” you blurt.

Peter’s mouth flops open like a fish out of water. “Uh. What?”

You purse your lips. Cat’s out of the bag. “I know you’re Spider-Man.”

Peter stares incredulously at you. “I… saw. When you went outside to change at Liz’s party. You just left, and I followed you, and for some reason you were changing in front of a big ass window without your mask on? So, literally anyone could’ve saw you, so that might be more your fault than mine–”

“[Name].” Peter's voice cuts through your rambling, and he takes a step closer, hands coming to grasp yours. “You… know?”

You gulp. “Well, yeah? That’s what I just said.”

He lets out a breathy chuckle, shoulders hunching. He brings your hands up to his mouth, lightly kissing them. It sends your heart cracking through your ribs. “[Name], that’s not what I was gonna say.”

You look up at Peter, confusion and anticipation mingling in your eyes. He seems almost relieved, a soft smile gracing his lips as he holds your hands close. The moment feels suspended, and you can hear the quiet hum of the evening outside, adding to the atmosphere of calm and intensity.

“I like you. I really like you.”

You feel your breath catch in your throat, the words sinking in as if time has momentarily stopped. Peter’s eyes are locked on yours, filled with sincerity and a vulnerability that’s rare to see from him. The warmth of his hands around yours feels electrifying, grounding you in the moment.

“...I thought you liked Liz,” you whisper.

“I thought I did too,” he mutters, close. “But I was being stupid. I thought you liked someone else, so I stayed away.” He shakes his head. “But I can’t anymore.”

“How do you know it’s you I like?” you croak.

“Apart from you basically just admitting it?” He smiles cheekily. “MJ told me.”

You click your tongue. “Meddler.”

“She said she got tired of our bullshit.”

You giggle quietly, head dropping. Peter doesn’t take his eyes off of you, biting his lip in anticipation. You squeeze his hands gently, still processing the whirlwind of emotions. “So, what now?”

Peter’s expression softens, and he takes another step closer, his gaze never leaving yours. “Can I… can I kiss you?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart flutters at his words. “Yes,” you say, almost breathless.

Peter leans in slowly, his eyes fluttering shut as his lips meet yours in a gentle, tender kiss. It’s a kiss filled with all the unspoken emotions, a release of the tension and a celebration of what’s finally come to light. The world outside seems to fade away, leaving just the two of you in this perfect, shared moment.

As Peter's lips linger on yours, the kiss deepens, becoming more passionate yet still tender. You feel the warmth of his body, the soft pressure of his lips, and the gentle caress of his hands around yours. The kiss seems to hold everything that had been unsaid, all the confusion, the longing, and the relief of finally being on the same page

When you finally pull back, both of you are smiling, the weight of recent days seeming lighter. Peter’s eyes are full of warmth and affection, and he holds you close, his forehead resting against yours.

“Will you, um… be my–”

“–Guy in the chair? Sure, Pete. It’d be my pleasure.”

Peter hides his grin in your neck. “Sorry. Ned beat you to it.”

“Barely seconds into this relationship and you’ve already betrayed me,” you scoff playfully.

“So we’re dating now?” His voice sounds hopeful.

“Duh.” You’ve never been more sure. “Pete, I’ve been down bad for you ever since you gave me that pencil.”

He pulls back, looking at you with heartbreaking eyes. He leans in to kiss you on the forehead, then pulls back slightly, his expression soft and sincere. "I’m really sorry about homecoming. I’ll take you to prom and we’ll have the best night of our lives.”

You’re pretty sure the best night of your life will be when you and Peter get married, but maybe you’re getting ahead of yourself. “I heard you dumped her there as soon as you got there, anyway. If you ever do that to me I’ll make sure you can never be Spider-Man again.”

He nods his head seriously. “Yes, ma’am.” Then he grins, giddy with the outcome of the situation. “I’ll still make it up to you.”

“I can think of a few ways.”

He blushes, scandalized. “[Name]!”

“Down bad for a long time, Pete,” you remind him. “Like I said, my parents aren’t here…”

He scoffs, shoving you away slightly before pulling you back to him, not willing to let you go after he finally has you. The two of you stand there, holding each other, savoring the quiet and the closeness. The weight of the past few days lifts, replaced by a renewed sense of connection and possibility. It feels like the beginning of something new and wonderful, a chance to explore this newfound closeness and see where it takes you both.

“Can we just. Go out to dinner or something?” he asks, thumb rubbing at your waist. “We could use some celebration, I think."

You smile, feeling a surge of warmth at his thoughtfulness. "That sounds perfect."

As you both head out the door, hand in hand, the evening feels full of promise. With the uncertainties of the past few days behind you, you're ready to embrace whatever comes next—together.

notes: i wanted reader to drop the "i know ur spiderman" bomb and somehow find a way out of the conversation and now peter has to try to confess to them but he just cant get a hold of them for whatever reason. but that would be like a whole nother 3k or more words and like... this fic already too long LOL

thanks for reading !!

#peter parker x reader #tom!peter x reader #peter parker x reader fluff #peter parker x reader angst #marvel x reader #spiderman x reader

237 notes · View notes

nightdivinity · 8 months

Text

Drink Responsibly! Prologue

ABO!Vampire!Batfam x reader

Minors! Do! Not! Engage! +18 only.

Platonic! Alfred, Bruce x reader, Possessive! Batboys x reader

Warnings: Alcohol, bad choices, stupid choices, possessive behavior, a/b/o fic, there is slight blood and gore, it's a vampire au, age gaps, because they're all significantly older, it's going to get suggestive from here on out, reverse harem, slight proofreading

Writer's Note: I want to thank @sophiethewitch1 for inspiring me and talking me through posting my writing. I hope it doesn't let you down! This is also my first time posting my writing on Tumblr, please be gentle. English is not my first language. Also, this is a why choose fic. So, it's Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian x reader. Maybe even Duke. I think four is a lot. Got to draw the line somewhere. Chapter 2 will be posted tomorrow.

It was midnight when you finally stumbled out of the latest club. Your heels were long gone, as you had taken them off the first time they got stuck in a grate. You’re pretty sure you handed them to a nice girl in the bathroom while her friend held your hair as you threw up copious amounts of alcohol and bar food. She had been super nice, you liked the way her short black hair was spiked, and her blonde friend’s eyeliner was superb. Anyways, now you are shoeless and desperately looking for the next bar on your crawl.

Gin’s. Ooh, that’ll do. You reach out and grab your friend’s bicep, point at the neon sign, and do vague gestures. Of course, your friend is not as well off as you are, so it takes a while to get your point across. Only they start crying again over their bullshit bar fling, and the fact you have no shoes.

It didn’t matter, none of it truly mattered. Not a single thing. This was your one night off after weeks of back-to-back grueling shifts at a job that doesn’t care whether you live or die. Yesterday you even took a quick unintentional power nap on the toilet. All of this resulted in you being slightly crazed and a little deranged as your night progressed.

But hey, Gotham just brings that out in people. In your job's defense, no one could take any more sick or inclement weather days thanks to all the random villain attacks next to or at your office. You blame the monthly rut.

At least you didn’t get stuck on the subway taped to a bench by the Riddler this week as he awkwardly rifled through a notebook of pickup lines. Life was certainly looking up.

See, unfortunately, or fortunately depending on the propaganda you consumed, you were born an Omega. Which had never truly been an issue. Except for the fact that thanks to a few foul choices from the government, it was getting harder and harder to get access to affordable pheromone blockers. You wouldn’t have even chanced this outing if you hadn’t found that one pill that rolled a little under your cabinet. Hey, you were desperate for a night out.

“I’m going there”, you slur.

Yes, this was asinine, but you still managed to wheel yourself and your friend to Gin’s. You hardly noticed the dark shadows following you as your friends from the bathroom quietly herded you. As you and your friend jaywalked across the street, you didn’t notice the red-headed woman standing in the middle of the road, blocking traffic from actually hitting you. It also barely registered when the nice boy with flashing gold eyes took your hand and led you past the line and directly to the front. This. Was. Your. Night. Out.

“Hey man, she can’t come in here with no shoes”, the bouncer at the door complains.

He was going to say more until he looked at the man holding your hand so nicely. You could hear the slight choking noise, and in your drunken stupor, you stumbled a little into your guide.

“He’s going to shit himself”, you stage-whisper. Or what you think was whispering. You were screaming over the pounding bass spilling out of the door.

“Shhh, Jackson, she’s with me”, your guide replies.

“She can come in, her friend can’t. Sorry Duke, they’re way too fucked up”, the bouncer swears.

You gasp and let go of Duke’s hand, instead reaching for your friend and pulling them tight into your embrace. While smashing their face into your chest. Even though you were the most drunk you’ve ever been, you didn’t miss the spike in pissed-off Alpha vibes that happened around you. Still, you smacked a hand against your friend’s ear in an effort to protect them from what was said. Then you got sidetracked by their hair. It reminded you that you wanted a pet. Although with your work and class schedule, it would probably die in a week. Three days tops. At least you had your emotional support friend.

“I can’t leave them alone”, you say.

“Hun, how about I call them an Uber, they look like they’re ready to pass out. They definitely can’t handle it anymore”, Duke replies.

He gestures towards your friend, and you notice how they’re slowly swaying on their feet. Eyes half closed. Shit. It would be shitty if you left them passed out somewhere in the bar as you danced and drank. They were already on their fourth wind and fading fast.

“Look, you see this nice car”, Duke continues.

He turns you three, and suddenly you notice the nice black town car next to the road. You vaguely register the fact that it’s one of those high-roller cars. Ones that only the richest in Gotham could afford.

“See, this is Killian, he works for Wayne Enterprises. He’ll make sure your friend makes it home. I’ll even have him text you when they get there. Won’t that be nice? You don’t have to worry at all (y/n).”, he tells you.

You nod, and it all makes sense somehow in your drunken brain. He knows your name, so obviously you know him. He also knows your friend, since he rattles off their address and gently pries them from your clutches before handing them off to Killian.

You pay no mind to the mention of a name that would have sent shivers down your spine normally. Wayne. Mysterious and dangerous to all who get involved.

“I need them back, don’t sell their organs”, you warn.

Then he gives you a tight brisk smile as he turns away from you. A persistent thought is starting to nag its way through the cotton in your head. The slightest unsettling feeling. Maybe there was something wrong with that blocker pill you found on the floor of your kitchen. You were certainly feeling as though there were a lot of pissed-off Alphas near you. The undercurrent of anger was a tang you couldn’t escape. More and more you felt the need to run somewhere dark and quiet to hide.

You ignore the persistent tugging by Duke as you watch your friend get loaded into the car and driven away. Well. That ends that.

The next time Duke tugs on your hand, it causes you to slightly stagger. He easily catches you and spins you around and through the door before you can protest.

“Can I have a Rum and Coke?”, you shout over the music.

“Yeah totally”, Duke shouts back.

It’s only until you are tugged past the bar that you realize that everything is not all sunshine and daisies. No. No. This is wrong. You want to go back.

You put your heels in. Duke was not ready for resistance as your hand slid out of his grasp on the way to the V.I.P. section. He turns around to get a better hold of you, only to watch you slip into the crowd and get lost in the sea of swaying bodies. Fuck. He was told to bring you to them. You still had to be here, there’s no way you could have bumbled off far. Shit. One job.

Duke ran a palm over his face as he scanned the crowd. There’s no doubt in his mind. Bruce was going to be pissed. He wasn’t supposed to know about your little excursion out. Everyone had agreed, they would watch over you as the day turned. You still weren’t used to Gotham; you didn’t know the sort of creatures that came out during the night. While the rest of the world was happy and filled with normal and meta shifters, Gotham was overflowing with the less-than-stable. All more than happy to take a bite out of the innocent. The only thing that kept it in check was the unspoken King and his disgraced hellions.

If you had been sober, you would have noticed the people slowly disappearing from the crowd. You would have noticed that tonight was absolutely not a good night to be out. One by one, shrieks of fear and pain were mistaken for fun. Jostling in the crowd was hardly registered as the violence spread. The whole night, you were in a sea of sharks feeding. Now you had finally ditched what you didn’t know was your only protection.

Not to worry, fear splashes hot and cold against your nerves as sharp claws grip your arm, your back slamming into the bar as a distended jaw hisses open in front of you.

Yeah. Maybe you should have been drinking responsibly.

#abo batfam x reader #vampire batfam x reader #batfam x reader #how many tags am i supposed to be making #is this yandere? I'm going to go ahead and tag it #yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfam #I'm dying from all this #Can and will be crying later

353 notes · View notes

selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs · 20 days

Note

Hello!! I love your work n au sm I’ve been ADDICTED!! 💖💖

Could I possibly request a Kunikida x GN! Reader where the reader is deeply insecure about relationships and unknowingly fits his ideals ? Ie: hard worker, good w/ kids, stuff like that? Like reader is lamenting about how all their friends are in relationships but nobody seems to look at them in that way and Kunikida is like erm actually ☝️☝️

Thanku sm either way I love reading everything you write 😸😸

Ideal partner

Self-Aware! Kunikida Doppo x GN! Reader

Description: People said, that Kunikida's ideal partner don't Kunikida disagrees.

Warning: OOC. English is my second language. Reader are insecure.

_______

"It's... Something, Kunikida-san." Atsushi turned the page of Kunikida's notebook. Dazai, who has been looking at the notebook's pages above Atsushi's shoulder, huffed.

"You are quite a hard-worker, Kunikida-kun. Spending the whole night filling that thing."

John Steinbeck, who was carrying crates with supplies, that were collected by The Guild, walked past them. He gave them a side glance.

"Discussing something interesting, detectives?"

"Ideals" Dazai waved his hand. Steinbeck gave them a weird look and start walking again, mumbling 'our new roommates' under his breath.

Lifestyle in Yokohama was changing. However, something didn't change at all. And, something, was brought back to existence.

Like a familiar book of a certain blonde detective.

Kunikida Doppo didn't want to admit it, but, after making peace with being self-aware (and getting attached to you) he feels that something still was missing. Something small, but important.

His book of ideals was missing. Well, technically, the notebook itself still was with him. But it was empty. No ideals were written down.

Kunikida couldn't bare it anymore. So, he spent the whole"night" (or what was supposed to be night in the Real World, according to your phone's watch) writing down his new set of ideals.

It put him in a good mood. And, even after he got scolded by Fukuzawa ("Kunikida, I understand, that you want to work as hard as you can, and get to Guiding Light as fast as possible, but, please, mind the time. Otherwise, it will be a hassle, when we got to the Real World and had to get used to normal day/night cycle."), Kunikida's good mood didn't change.

"Your ideal partner criteria are still here and still something, Kunikida-kun. Are you sure, that you can find such person even in the Real World?" Dazai grinned teasingly. Kunikida rolled his eyes.

"Say whatever you want, Dazai, but my ideal partner do exist. And I will find them."

Dazai shrugged. His grin became even wider.

"We will see."

__________

"Well, I expect something like that, but not to that extent." Dazai mumbled, looking at Kunikida's "Ideal partner" list. Near each sentence was now a little plus symbol drawn.

Kunikida glared at Dazai.

"And what that supposed to mean?!"

Dazai quickly raised both of his hands.

"Nothing bad! Nothing bad! Just... I agree, that Iris Flower is great."

Great? You weren't just great! You were perfect. Kunikida could write a whole essay about how perfect you are.

You were a hardworking person. You do your job to the fullest. You always make sure, that everything is done perfectly.

You were great with children. You know, how to calm them down, what books and games offer them to pass the time. You even could make them do their homework without fussing.

You were kind, generous, smart. You have both inner and outer beauty.

You were perfect!

"... I am not surprised, that you want to have romantic relationship with them. But, I never expected that you would find all of your ideals in them. I did expect you to dismiss or change your ideals, so [Y/N] would fit them."

Dazai chuckled. A rare genuine smile appeared on his face.

"You managed to surprise me. I hope, that you will make [Y/N] happy. Just remember..."

Dazai's expression darkened. "If you break their heart..."

Kunikida glared at Dazai.

"How dare you think, that I will do something like that?! I will cherish them. We will have a loving courtship, before getting married."

Dazai visibly flinched.

"Kunikida-kun... For the love of everyone... Never let others, especially [Y/N], hear the words "loving courtship" ever again."

_______

That evening was one of the calm ones. Everyone were, mostly, minding their own business. Nikolai didn't annoy Fyodor. Dazai didn't annoy Chuuya and Kunikida. You were laying on a couch, mindlessly scrolling through the social media. Suddenly, your gaze catches a post from one of your co-worker, that you were friends with.

"Today is our anniversary! Look, what my sweetheart did for me 💝"

The post contains a photo of a table with home cooked breakfast on it. All dishes were decorated with paper hearts, a small vase with bouquet of flowers was standing in the middle of the table. A card with some lovey-dovey words was visible in the corner of the table.

You scrolled further.

As another nail in your good mood's coffin, the next post was from another one of your friend. That post was about getting into a new relationship.

You fight an urge to sign. Another one. Another one of your friends got in a relationship.

You weren't jealous. But you felt a little bit of hurt. Every time you heard about your friends' dates or partners, you felt, like you were the stereotypical forever single friend.

You went on dates before. But, there was never a second date. Your friends were getting into relationship. They looked happy. They weren't alone.

Meanwhile, you were alone. And, no matter how hard you try, you never managed to find a partner.

Perhaps, you weren't attractive enough to be viewed as someone's romantic partner.

"I am pretty sure, that your ex-partners have done more for your anniversary." Aya's voice sounded right above your ear. You jumped, turning your head towards her. The girl has climbed almost on the top of your armchair, looking at your phone screen above you. Bram's hand carefully grabbed her by the collar, gently picking her up.

"Manners, Princess." softly scolded he. Aya huffed.

"Sorry, Bra-chan, I just got so excited! So, [Y/N]..." Girl looked back at you. "I was right, right? Your ex-partners have done something better for your anniversary, yes?"

You were still blinking, trying to proceed the situation.

(No one noticed a strange mix of determination and jealousy on Kunikida's face)

You should be careful. Because kids were the worst, when they learned about your love life.

You bit your lip.

"Well, no, there were no celebrations for the anniversary..."

And hell got loose. The quiet room became loud. Everyone wants to say something, to complain about your terrible "ex-partners". Aya, still in Bram's hold, shook her first in the air.

"What?! What an awful people! How dare they?! Let me at them, I will teach them some respect!"

"Give me names!" you don't need to look at Teruko, to see her bloodthirsty expression.

Okay, you need to let the cat out of the bag.

You stand up and almost yelled.

"There were no anniversaries! Because I was never in a relationship! I never had a partner"

The room became quiet. Now everyone was staring at you.

Aya tilted her head.

"What? Why? Why you were never in a relationship before?"

You tried not to look in Aya's eyes.

"Why? I don't understand..."

You gulped. You really didn't want to talk about it. Time to change the subject.

"Oh, look at the time! I need to be somewhere else... In my room."

Good job, [Y/N], really smooth.

Bram start whispering something in Aya's ear. Count Stoker looked at you apologetically.

"Wait! I still don't understand! How came someone as amazing as you never had a partner?!" Aya ignored Bram's attempts to hush her, deciding to ask That Question. The girl looked not only curious, but also sad. She really thought, that your non-existent love live was something unfair.

You nervously looked around. You really didn't want to discuss it, especially with kids.

Because, of your nervousness, you didn't see, that Kunikida's face expression was quite similar to Aya's. Less curious, but, still an equally "That's unfair!" expression.

"I guess, there is nothing in me to be loved for..."

"THAT'S NOT TRUE!" you were pretty sure, that you have heard, how windows rattled because of Kunikida's scream.

Before anyone can do something, Kunikida grabbed you by the hand and started to drag you away.

_______

He stopped before your room. Kunikida was still holding your hand. His breathing was heavy.

You broke the silence.

"Kunikida... What..."

His voice was quiet but firm.

"Never... Never say, that there is nothing in you to be loved for."

You looked away.

"Kunikida, there's no need to try to cheer me up. I already made peace with that fact..."

Kunikida softly squeeze your hand.

"I mean it... You are really important to me... You fit all of my ideals."

You closed your mouth. Kunikida took his notebook and showed you the list of his ideal partner criteria. Each of them had pluses drawn near. You didn't know what to say. Kunikida's voice was soft.

"When I became self-aware, my notebook was completely empty. There was nothing. Not even one of my ideals were written down. The big part of my life was gone. And then I find a strength to live on. I find you."

You won't cry. You won't cry.

Kunikida's gaze soften.

"I wrote my ideals down again. It was my own decision. And I managed to do it, because you gave me strength."

Kunikida carefully cupped your face.

"My ideals for a partner... I thought, of what I want to see in them. Not about someone particular. You fit all of them by being your own person. [Y/N], My Ideal, you are perfect. You make me feel so happy... What I want to say..."

Kunikida blushed. You felt, like your face was on fire.

"Do you want to go on a date with me?"

You shyly nodded. Suddenly, Kunikida leaned forward and kissed you on a cheek. Still red, he mumbles.

"Great! I... I will... We will go at the end of the week, if it's fine with you."

You nodded again.

"Yes. I will wait for our date."

Kunikida's smile could brighten up the darkest abyss. Unknowingly, to you, your own smile was as bright as his.

#self-awarebsd #self-awareau #bungou stray dogs au #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd anime #bsd x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #kunikida doppo x reader #bsd kunikida #kunikida x reader #Self-Aware Kunikida Doppo

86 notes · View notes

erinwantstowrite · 3 months

Note

Let me just quickly say, cross-overs can sometimes get REALLY difficult to map out and write in a cohesive way but you have absolutely NAILED IT!! I absolutely ADORE LoF!!! I usually don’t even bother reading fics with the ‘Richard Grayson is Richard Parker’ premise cause I felt like they were super confusing and overcomplicated but this fic?? SUPERB. ABSOLUTELY INCREDIBLE. OH MY GOD I ADORE IT. Everyone’s characterizations are so nice and wonderful aaaaaaah!!!! <33333

Ok ok I did actually have a question as well: would you be willing to share what your writing process looks like in terms of a chapter you’ve already posted? I was just wondering since I’m also currently working on my own fic (it’s been a few years but I managed to get fixated on an idea and it grew legs lol) and I’m currently fighting the organization of it haha.

How do you keep track of the plot points and/or foreshadowing you want to get a ‘lightbulb!’ moment for later? Do you have any tips?

Thank you so much! I absolutely adore your writing AND your art is so gorgeous omg it adds so much to the incredible story :DDD I hope you have a good day!!

I have a secret: I actually didn't like "Richard Grayson is Richard Parker' tag for a while for the same reason. Sometimes they felt like they missed the mark or it's just. A thing that's there? I almost didn't include it for LoF, but I'm glad I did because it changed the direction in such a big way.

Another secret: this made me incredibly happy because I have read so many wikis and scoured the internet to make sure that I had enough info on both fandoms so LoF could make sense to anyone who's reading it, whether they know Spider-Man, Batfam, or neither at all. Sometimes I worry a lot before I post that I'll miss a mark and will confuse people.

As for the question: I definitely am willing to share what my writing process looks like!

Be prepared for under the cut, I love to yap. It's in my blood to yap. And that's why it took a minute to get to this ask haha

(Spoilers for Leap of Faith!! Everything mentioned has already been published ((Chapters 1-11))

I had to go and find out which chapter I wanted to use as an example and I think we're gonna go with Chapter 5 for the most part :)

My writing process is, as described by alighterwood:

I think the description fits because while I'm all over the place, I have to be very detail oriented and I store everything in one spot.

Starting with the overall process, what I find is most helpful for me, when organizing, is having a notebook rather than doing it all digitally. I've been using a 70 sheet notebook that I had lying around waiting to be used, and as of yesterday, I officially filled the entire thing front to back. It's been an incredible help, for a lot of reasons, but mostly because it's a lot easier to remember something I physically wrote down than it is to remember something I typed. I'm now on to my second notebook for LoF, and I might even have to get a third.

In another ask, startupkat asked me this:

And I shared a little about my outline process there, but I'll try to go into a little more depth here. Emphasis on little because this is so long.

I write a truly insane amount of outlines in this notebook.

This is just what I can show you, but a good chunk of the notebook is just outlines. Over and over and over again. That's because they're always changing/adapting based on so many different factors. Sometimes I get to a chapter I thought I had fully planned out and then realize it just doesn't work anymore. Other times, I get to the chapter and realize I don't want to write that anymore/isn't as interesting as I thought it would be. A few times I got halfway through a POV of a scene I was struggling on and decided to switch POV's, which will change up the outline for a chapter every now and then.

Which is why I don't write incredibly detailed outlines and try to keep it vague until I actually get to that chapter. It's a lot less daunting to rewrite a chapter outline than it is to rewrite the entire outline.

Fic outlines and Chapter outlines look a lot alike.

This is what I said in the other ask, but I didn't elaborate on it all the way.

I make a list just like that, and then I try to put it in chronological order/in an order that makes sense. I keep the Fic outline vague by writing down "Goals" for a chapter rather than scenes. But I also keep notes to myself if I really think something is important. The more important I think a scene needs to be, the more details I write down to make sure my future self recalls what I had in mind when I thought it up.

Really simple example:

Chap 1 Goal: Peter gets to Gotham and meets Babs while running around. Meet Nightwing too? Get shelter.

Chapter 2 Goal: Bats are like "???" about Peter. Batfam dynamic important... Peter stalking Batfam back? Peter meet Batman >:)

When I get to a chapter, that's when I make a far more detailed list of wants/needs/goals. It's the Step 2 from the Step 1. Here are some examples from Chapter 5:

Needed to have:

More POV's from universe 1299 (Peter's home universe)

Tony's POV more specifically, how he's doing/feeling, what he's figured out

What they've figured out on 1299 side vs what's going on in 1300 (Gotham)

Explaining more about Peter's trauma/his past

Dick learning more about Peter, and vise versa

Wanted to have:

Ned being a more central character

Natasha :)

Loki being a little shit

Tony and Cap bickering

Peter talking to Nightwing again

The last name Grayson

Gymnastics!!

(This is the shortened list, because the chapters are so long)

When I looked at this list before writing my outline, I had to figure out how I could incorporate everything. If I needed more 1299 POV's, and I wanted Ned, Natasha, and Loki, there's one scene accounted for. I had to get their side of things and wanted that trio together. I needed a Tony POV, and I wanted Tony and Cap bickering, so those went together, plus I got 1299's POV of Ohnn and his plans explained.

I needed to have Peter explaining more about his trauma, and Dick and Peter to talk/get closer. I wanted a Nightwing POV, to have Peter say his last name, and them doing gymnastics. I knew Peter wouldn't willingly talk about that, so I had him have a nightmare. Not only did it give readers perspective but it made Peter more susceptible to talking to Nightwing because he was more emotionally vulnerable/lonely, and that's how that scene came together.

That's when I would write down the chronological order of these events by writing out "Scene Blocks." (This is what I wrote down but my handwriting was so bad I can't subject y'all to it):

scene 1- Ned talking to Loki. Natasha should be nearby and observing Loki's behavior. They are not on friendly terms. Ned is more worried about Peter than he is as to what Loki could be up to, so Natasha takes on that role.

scene 2- Tony is freaking out about Peter being in an alt dimension. He should attack Ohnn when he's not prepared for it. Beat his ass? Beat his ass. Cap there too.

scene 3- Peter's nightmare. "Ben, where do you go when you die?" "Where do you think?" "With you. Where you went."

scene 4- Nightwing and Peter.

Of course, things come to attention when writing. Like originally, Tony and Cap were arguing in the Tower. But it was a little too much like his and Natasha's argument, and I kept in mind that Tony is smart. Sometimes I forget that the characters are smarter than I am, so I have to account for what they would figure out. So Tony would have picked up the puzzle pieces and come to more conclusions than I originally thought about, and I figured he'd be way more proactive about it than just. Being in the Tower and waiting.

Which means that that scene ended up being as listed above: having a squabble with Cap, learning more about Peter's dynamic with the Avengers in this universe, and seeing how Tony is reacting to it by throwing himself head first into trying to capture Ohnn.

I'll realize I need something else to be mentioned or put in and I'll have to shimmy things around, but that's basically how it goes.

As for other forms of organization:

Keeping a timeline is so important because it tells you a lot about the environment your characters are in. It's also important to remember what a character has on them, what money they've spent, who they've met/who you have mentioned, every alias that is being used, to read your work and write down edits you want to make before you make them, to write down ideas beforehand of situations you can use, and, most importantly: MAKE A MAP!! This has saved me so many times. Sometimes your brain WILL trick you or make it harder on you to envision a scene. Make a map of where your characters are physically!! It will save you too!!

As for foreshadowing and plot points, I'll let you in on yet another secret:

Your subconscious is doing a lot more than you think it is.

Sometimes when I foreshadow something, I didn't even know I was until I got to it. I very often go back to read chapters that came before this to see what I've mentioned and what I haven't, and when I do, I'll see something and go "I have to bring this back" or "I almost forgot about that!"

Other times, I am very aware of what I'm foreshadowing, and that's because I follow a mystery plot formula. You have to keep in mind everyone's intentions, all the time. How are they feeling? What are their motivations? And: what are they doing right now, while this character is doing this?

Like Beck and Ohnn. From the very beginning, I knew I had to make sure that it was obvious Ohnn wasn't working alone. From there, I had to weave through the story and slowly build him up as someone who's working behind the scenes. Even from Ned's first POV, I made sure to mention that this person knows Tony and is tech savvy.

My biggest tip is to make sure you reread your work or at least skip through it, because sometimes you don't even know that you placed something there.

And sometimes, it's very purposeful. :)

I hope this helped! I really tried to keep it short but I am insane and the process is sooooo long. It sounds complicated but it really is simple when you're actually doing it I swear

114 notes · View notes

dailyunstableeve · 9 months

Text

She's just dropping by to gear up

Jill valentine x cashier/soldier!Fem!reader (at the gas station)

tw: This contains smut, interact with caution. nsfw, some breast play, fingering, dom!Jill, sub!reader, some alcohol, Jill loves to tease, kinda a fall in love in first sight

⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⭒─⭑─⭒──⭒─⭑─⭒──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝

“Day 258,” you signed, crossing out a date off your notebook. Your work here has become more and more boring, can't help it, you gotta pay the rent or else you'll be on the street, turning into a zombie.

Ew, thinking of it makes you shiver.

Lucky for you, there's not much people actually come to this gas station for anything so it allows you to blast music, when all you need to do is keep this place clean. Afterall, this is not just some normal gas station by the road. This gas station is also counted as a safe zone from the virus, if zombies start to roam around this area, which means things get way out of hand.

It's not everyday a new virus is created.

From the day you've been assigned here, it's only Chris who appears here, he’s on mission more than anyone, eventually both of you become friends. Sometimes he would invite you to have a drink with him.

Other than that, taking out the trash has never been your favourite of all the stuff you gotta do, no one likes going to the dark back space of the station, you really should push the trash bin next to the station at least there's a little light there.

You heard a car stopped in front of the gas station that made you jump and run back to the cashier. It's a truck, looks very dirty, you silently judge it but when a woman with short hair walks out from the truck, you keep your judgement away.

“Welcome!” You put on your smile.

Oh my gosh, finally a customer after so many days.

“Hi, I would like to stock up,” The woman said, holding her s.t.a.r.s badge up, Jill Valentine, she looked so tired.

If only I can help her rest.

“Yeah, follow me,” you swiftly shut down the gas station, pressing the button under the cashier, then a secret room appeared, “everything you need should be there.”

“Thank you.”

You watched her walk down the stairs to the room then you followed behind.

“So, why is a girl like you here?” Jill asked you as she's checking up on the stocks.

“Well, the pay is high, and I need to pay rent,” you shrugged your shoulders.

“Won't it be boring? Missing out on the actions?”

“Well if it takes for someone like you to show up here, I'm pretty sure it's worth it,” you chuckled.

To look closely, she's just too hot for you to not take your eyes off, you can't stop staring at her.

“Say, too busy to catch a date after whatever you're gonna do after?” You asked, believing your confidence could get you a date with Jill.

“That will depend on if I made it back alive or not,” she softly chuckled.

“I pray for your return, Jill.”

“Thank you.”

★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★

A week has gone by, you're still hopelessly waiting for Jill to appear, for once you were looking forward to getting a date, especially since you work in a place that's basically isolated from the city. The whole week gave you a lot of time to think about what kind of date you and Jill could do, but also at the same time, who will take over your place if you asked for a leave? Chris is the first name that appears since you only know him but you can't possibly ask him for that because you're gonna go on a date and he's actually higher rank than you are.

Oh Jill.

You wanted to see her so badly, your mind has been nothing but her face projecting everything and everywhere.

“Y/N.”

“Oh Chris, stock up?”

“No, not today, I'm taking the time to rest,” he bitterly smiled. All those missions he went to must be hard for him, at some point you can't even think what you would do if you were sent to fight zombies.

“Well, if they are asking for you, everything you need is here to get ready,” you laughed and brought out your secret stash, “do you think you'll be able to drink?”

“Call it your lucky day today.”

Three bottles have been emptied out, and Chris is on the fourth bottle.

“Ugh, I am so needed to get my tolerance up,” you complained at your poor tolerances with alcohol.

“Don't beat yourself up, you did better than last time,” Chris laughed.

“Sometimes, I feel like it's a great idea they don't have cameras here, only for the road outside,” you fell onto the counter, the alcohol slowly kicking in, causing your vision to turn wobbly.

“Chris, do you happen to know someone called Jill Valentine?” You asked.

“Jill, yeah I know her, she's my friend.”

“Is she doing okay? I wanted to see her,” you mumbled.

“How do you know Jill in the first place?”

“She stopped by to stock up,” you answered.

“She just recently reported in from her last mission.”

“I see.”

Jill must've been taking a rest after the mission, she'll appear when she is finished. That's what you told yourself.

An hour later, Chris is fully defeated by the alcohol, you have to drag him down to the basement room to let him rest there while you're still trying to sober up. When you got back up to the surface, you spotted a motorcycle outside the gas station and someone was on it. You thought it's someone asking for directions so you talked to them through the small window.

“Hi, sorry the station is closed at the moment,” you speak through the small window, if Chris isn't on a mission, no one is.

“I'm here to pick up my date,” that familiar voice that has been dangling onto your mind for the past few days.

“Jill?” you excitedly asked, hop out from the shop.

“Is this a bad time?” She asked.

“No, not exactly, it's just that I have a drunk passed out Chris Redfield down the basement,” you laughed.

“Chris? What's he doing here?”

“Well, to be honest, it's usually just him showing up here to stock up so eventually we became friends,” you explained.

“So, I'm taking it that you can't leave?” Jill asked.

“I can't, Chris is here and I'm actually still trying to sober up,” you awkwardly chuckled.

“That's alright, we can chill here.”

“I'm so sorry if you have any plans for today, I'm sure next time we can do it.”

Just like that, you and Jill had the date on top of the rooftop, it wasn't really bad, both of you took the chance to know more about each other.

“Well, I know I'm still trying to sober up, but can't spoil the fun for you,” you brought up the remaining alcohol that's left from you and Chris.

Both of you think that it would be fun if you and Jill play some games, such as truth and dare, so the game is on. You started out with asking simple truth and dare for Jill, taking it as a chance to try to know her better, Jill did the same, until you decided you wanted to do something more.

“Truth,” Jill chooses.

“Jill, why did you choose to be on this date?”

“Is that even a question that can be asked?” She frowned, hiding that slight blush off her face.

“C'mon, I'll let you ask the similar question to me later.”

“Well, you're cute, and you have the confidence to ask me out on a date, and from all those talks we had just now, you're an incredible person, and I would love to know you more,” Jill answered.

You hope it's illegal because of how Jill is making you blush at the moment.

“Truth or Dare?” Jill looked at you.

“Dare.”

“Do the one thing you wanted to do so badly right now,” Jill smirked.

“Oh wow, okay, embrace yourself then,” you chuckled as you moved from your seat, moving closer to Jill, both of you looked at each other as you leaned forward for a kiss on her cheek.

You and Jill hold eye contact, she rested her hand on your cheek, looking into your eyes then she leaned forwards, left a kiss on your lip. You returned one back, and she did the same. Jill pulled you closer towards her as she kissed you.

Jill slowly pulled away, holding your hands and rushed down to the basement, a different room from where Chris is sleeping in, she slammed the door, inviting you to join her on the bed that's supposed for pass by soldiers to rest in.

You can feel her touch, slowly caressingly running up and down your body as her soft cherry lip pressing onto yours, giving you the kisses you'll never forget. Her kisses were harsh but yet sweet, brushing your hair to the side as she played with your ear, giving that tingling feeling but all you can focus on is her lip, needing every taste of it.

Jill slowly moved her hand inside your top, drawing circles on your cute tummy, drawing a sensation in you, her hand moved more further up, lifting up your top, revealing that black lace bra. Jill breaks the kiss as she turns her focus to your body, “what a gorgeous you are, sweetie,” as she's sitting on you, looking down. Jill admired your body a little longer, when she met your eyes again, she could see the desire you are wishing so badly for.

You wanted to kiss Jill so badly.

You wanted her touch everywhere on your body.

You wanted to feel her.

You wanted to be hers.

But Jill just looked at you, with a small smirk on her face, she's enjoying this.

“Please Jill,” you mumbled, you felt the heat on your face so you tried to hide your reddened face as you tried to form words.

“Yeah, sweetie?”

You know, she wants you to use your words to beg for her, you slipped your needy side to Jill and now she’s waiting for you to tell her what you need.

“Manage to get the conversation out for a date, can't say what's next?” Jill leaned closer, whispered in your ear, fingertip drawing around your body, teasing your poor desire.

You started to blame the alcohol you drank with Chris just now, you can't think straight.

“I want you Jill,” you looked into her blue eyes, babbling out the words, “I need you Jill, I want to feel you, so badly.”

“Good girl.”

Jill single handedly unhooked your bra, removing every pieces clothings of yours, leaving your naked body bare on the bed. Her hand cupped up your breast as she gently sucked on it, while her other hand fiddled the other lonely breast, muffled moans started to fall out from your mouth, you had your mouth covered, afraid that Chris would hear you.

“It's okay, no one is going to hear us,” she looked at you, admiring the expression you have on your face at the moment, then continued back what she's doing.

You couldn't tell how long it has been for Jill enjoying her time with your breast, she made you feel so good but yet a part of your body is throating for more.

“You gotta use your words to ask for what you want,” Jill pinned down your lower body, you immediately looked down and realised what you did, a dark spot stained on her jeans.

“I want you Jill.”

“Where?”

You held onto her hand as you guided her to the between of your thighs, “here please.”

Jill leans in for more kisses as her hand continues drawing circles the area between your thighs, you wish her to touch, but she likes to tease you a little longer before giving you what you ask for. You squirmed under her touches, you started to beg Jill, mumbling words into her ears, letting her know just how badly you wanted her.

Jill slowly inserted her middle finger in your cunt, spreading up your inside, your body squirmed as you gripped on both of her shoulders, she started to push it more deeper in, as her thumb rubbing on your sensitive clit. Jill could feel every twitch you made, your sweet moans getting louder and louder in her ears, babbling words that can't be understood as she picked up her pace.

Your hip started to lean upwards to Jill, she knows this movement of yours proves that you're close so she pulled away, leaving you groaning and whimpering, asking why she pulled away. You know damn well the answer, she loves to tease and she will take every opportunity she has to tease you until she thinks you deserve to cum.

Jill gives your clit a few gentle rubs, then spreads your inside with two fingers this time. Jill quickly picks back up the pace, your slick juice dripping down from her hand and your thighs, the sloopy sound as Jill thrusted her finger in, hitting the spot, tells just how wet you are. Jill found your mumbling as you're trying your best to cum, cute. She wanted to tease you so much more until you can't even say anything but continually cumming on her fingers but you've been a good girl for her.

“I love you Y/N,” she planted kisses around your neck, your collarbone, your breast, your arch up tummy.

“I love you too Jill,” your arm wrapped around her shoulder, head resting on Jill's shoulder, mumbling her name with the mix of your moans.

“I'm gonna- cum,” you mumbled out, hooked your legs around Jill's waist, gripping harder onto her shirt.

“Cum for me sweetie, cum for me, Y/N,” she whispered into your ear.

Your eyes roll back as your head throws back while you are still gripping onto Jill's shoulder, your hip leans upwards and stays there for a while as you feel the electric shock running through your body and letting out the loudest moans.

Your body immediately flopped back on the bed, trying your best to catch your breath. You could feel Jill caressingly brushing your hair, a soft kiss on your lip, “you did a great job.”

“I love you Jill.”

“I love you too Y/N.”

Hands holding onto each other, Jill flopped on the bed together with you, pulling you closer so she could cuddle with you.

⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⭒─⭑─⭒──⭒─⭑─⭒──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝

an: Here's my pardon approach, this is the first time working on the smut, please pardon me for any mistake I've made, and ofc, do let me know which part could be improve so I can learn from my mistake ;-; I hope you guys somehow did enjoyed it ❤️

Masterlist

Imagine this is how it ended:

“And I might have lied,” Jill softly chuckled.

“What did you lie about?”

“The room is not soundproof.”

“Jill!” You jolt up, looking at her.

“I'm pretty sure Chris is still asleep at the moment,” Jill pulled you back into her arms, “we'll worry about it later.”

#jill valentine x female reader #jill valentine fanfic #jill valentine fanfiction #resident evil jill valentine #jill smut #jill x female reader #jill x fem reader #jill x you #jill x reader #jill #jill valentine x fem reader #jill valentine x you #jill valentine smut #jill valentine x reader #jill Valentine #jill valentine #resident evil #resident evil jill

241 notes · View notes