#who knew i could already be more in love with you than i already am

[melminli]

Love To Dream

summary - there was this one girl that thanos really wanted, though, she didn't really want to have anything to do with him. unfortunately, that made him want her even more.

pairing: (thanos) choi su-bong x fem. reader

word count: 1.5k

contains: modern au, mention of drugs, enemies to lovers vibes ig, crack, yearning

a/n: i don't even know what this is tbh but I felt like we all deserved some laughs ;)

Life was good - life was really fucking good, Thanos thought to himself as he winked charmingly at a group of hot girls. They had been looking in his direction for a while now while giggling, clearly interested in him. He continued to watch them as he sipped his drink, the club music pumping through his veins like adrenaline. Thanos's eyes darkened as the girls continued to cast lustful glances in his direction - he knew he could easily get more than one of them into bed tonight and why wouldn't he? It hadn't been long since his last performance on stage, reminding everyone present once again of his legendary status in this club.

However, his attention was focused somewhere entirely else after the most breathtaking person ever decided to walk past him. The pick-up lines he had been thinking of for the group, vanished from his mind after this angel showed up in front of him since the other girls could barely compare. The whole thing looked like something out of a scene from a Kdrama because time seemed to pass in slow motion and your hair was swinging in the air like that of a princess - which would have been the perfect time for some product placement because it just looked so damn soft.

Thanos had his mouth wide open in shock and put a hand over his heart to check if it was still beating while his eyes never left your figure. You - who was leaning prettily against the bar right next to him as you ordered something from the bartender.

“Hey.” he finally recovered from the moment and casually moved towards you. “I'd introduce myself, but I assume you already know me.” he talked to you with his flirty face as soon as you looked up at him.

You smiled shyly. “Yeah, I watched your performance,” you answered him and seemed quite grateful that he was speaking to you right now. “You were pretty good.” you giggled slightly as you complimented him.

“Yeah, that's just how I am.” he sighed as he looked around the room as if it was a burden for him to have to live with all the recognition. His eyes met yours again and he tried to impress you by unpacking a few bars while emphasizing them with the movements of his hands. “Girl, I know you and I are meant to be because after I looked at your pretty face everything stopped being. If only you saw what I can see, you'll understand why I want you so desperately.” he rapped to you, stealing the last line from some One Direction song, but you didn't need to know that.

You shyly put your hands in front of your face to hide your smile. “Oh my god, that was so incredibly sexy, I'm so horny for you right now.” the words came out of your mouth and made Thanos screw up his face weirdly for a second.

Because first of all, those vulgar words didn't match your innocent demeanor in the slightest - and secondly, you said exactly what Thanos had imagined you would say - it was actually a bit creepy since you literally said it word for word. Thanos hardly thought that he could foresee the future all of a sudden or that you could maybe read minds, though he decided to ignore the whole thing as soon as you started touching his chest softly with your hands. He wanted you so bad.

“You don't even know what you're doing to me right now,” he whispered to you while you felt him so sensually and he was about to kiss you, hadn't you stopped his lips with your hand as you laughed into his face. “I think you should wake up now. Otherwise, the pink elephant will keep handing out balloons to people.” You told him, pointing behind him to where the bar was supposed to be.

“Hah?” he asked you confused and turned around while continuing to hold you in his arms, but all he saw were a few dogs breakdancing - and that was nothing out of the ordinary. He continued to look at the scene with a grin, even though some inner voice inside him was stressing out about kissing you immediately as if he was running out of time. He finally turned back to you and was about to continue when he suddenly heard a man speak. “You really should wake up man.” Nam-gyu's voice told him and Thanos only caught himself almost kissing him after he took a closer look. He just pushed him away from him in disgust and then -

Thanos woke up from his sleep, bathed in sweat, when he saw your face in his field of vision. “Finally, you're sleeping like a dead man. There's some guy at the door who wants to talk to you,” you told him as he sat up tiredly while slowly recovering from his strange dream.

That's right. You weren't just some hot girl he met at the club, you were his fucking roommate. Thanos discreetly pushed more blanket over his lap as he tried to shoo you away from his room with a wave of his hand. “Yeah, yeah - I'll be right there, just - give me a moment,” he said without looking you in the face.

You just sighed slightly and complied with his request, though not without letting him know how unhappy you were. “I told you to stop giving our address to these dealers. I don't like it when they show up here,” you grumbled under your breath before dashing out and closing the door behind you.

After that, Thanos let out a very heavy sigh and stroked his face aggressively. “Now she's showing up in my dreams, too? Fucking great.” he grumbled to himself and got up from the bed to put on some decent clothes. His eyes met his own reflection as he pulled a shirt over his head. “Get a grip man, what's wrong with you?” he asked himself as he grimaced in annoyance. “You're Thanos the destroyer, not some kind of -”

“Stop taking so long and come here already!” your voice suddenly shouted, coming through his door slightly muffled.

He looked even more annoyed at that and made his way to the living room while shouting back at you. “I'm fucking on it, alright!” and it only took a few loud steps from him to your front door for him to yank it open to fix the damn problem. He looked at his friend, completely bothered by his presence. “What do you want?” he asked him and was kinda glad that it at least wasn't Nam-gyu because he just really didn't want to see his face at the moment and probably for a little while.

“Hello, to you, too.” the man in front of him greeted him, already used to his weird mood swings. “I just wanted to do you a favor by bringing you some of the pills you wanted because last time you almost beat me up when I didn't have them with me,” he explained, holding the bag, which Thanos grabbed instantly before inspecting it more closely. “Don't act like you didn't deserve it, I paid you the money in advance, man. Of course, I was angry,” he complained again and would probably have beaten him up for real right now if he had ruined his morning over something completely unnecessary. However, he would still have to make sure that something like this didn't happen again so that you didn't have another reason to kick him out of the apartment.

“You know, maybe this was meant to be. Otherwise, I wouldn't have been greeted by an absolute hottie today,” he said happily as he stood there, still interested. “Is she your cousin or something? Do you want to introduce me to her?” he asked and was quite confident in the way he acted, but Thanos just looked at him emotionlessly for a few seconds until he slammed the door in his face.

"Okay, he's gone now!" he exclaimed, bored, and made his way into the kitchen, where you were sitting with a cup of coffee or something while scrolling on your phone. "Don't open the door for that guy if he shows up again," he said, grabbing a cold Sprite from the fridge. You just looked at him with a displeased look. He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I'll make sure that he and no one else shows up after today. But, I'm just saying that in case it still somehow happens."

Thanos then opened the can and drank from it while he continued to watch your face from the side. Eventually, he sat down next to you, although, to his dissatisfaction, that didn't seem to get your attention. "Hey, you want to go on a date?" He asked, and you weren't sure how many times he asked you that by now. You kept scrolling on Instagram. "You know my answer to that."

Thanos continued to grin hopefully. "Yes?" he asked and then watched you disappear out of the kitchen with your cup of coffee in your hand - probably to your room. "You should be glad that I'm even asking you! Other girls would die for..." he muffled towards the end before he stopped talking entirely once he realized that you weren't giving him a reaction.

Maybe, I should just go back to sleep, he thought to himself dejectedly, unable to believe that he had a better chance with you in dreams with pink elephants and breakdancing dogs than here.

[idkyetxoxo]

Aemond Targaryen - A Dance of Ambition

Summary - A fierce young woman meets a brooding Targaryen prince who defies expectations. As tension crackles between them—both verbal and unspoken—she discovers they may be more alike than she thought.

Pairing - Aemond Targaryen x Harroway reader

Warnings - None

Word count - 2600

Masterlist for Aemond • House of the Dragon General Masterlist

My father's voice was soft as I ran the brush through my hair. "Please, be kind. He's a prince... a Targaryen prince, to be precise."

I set the brush down, smoothing the fabric of my dress as I turned to face him. "That means nothing to me," I replied, adjusting the neckline with a flick of my wrist.

"Please, my love. Just this once, try not to be so... brash," he murmured, almost swallowing his words, and I couldn't help the laughter that bubbled from my chest.

"Father, you speak as if I have no manners at all," I said with a teasing smile, watching the weariness deepen the lines on his face as he sighed.

"You know what I mean," he relented, his shoulders slumping. I exhaled, stepping closer to wrap my arms around his neck.

"Do not worry, I will be on my best behaviour," I assured him, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. I glanced at my reflection one more time, the smirk already forming on my lips.

"And that's exactly what worries me," he muttered under his breath, leaving the room without another word.

Since my mother's passing, my father had treated me as though I were his entire world. I was his only child, and in the wake of losing his great love, he never remarried.

I had become a living reminder of the woman he adored, a memory he clung to, coddling me like a fragile thing.

People whispered behind our backs, blaming him for my haughty behaviour, for my sharp tongue and indifference to the opinions of others. But their gossip didn't bother me.

I knew how deeply he loved me, and I wore that truth like armour.

This meeting with the prince—this potential match—was one of the few prospects my father deemed worthy of his precious daughter.

If he had gone to such lengths to arrange it, the least I could do was ensure that the prince, and his family, were as perfect as they claimed.

The grand hall of the Keep was as intimidating as I'd imagined. Its vaulted ceilings and towering columns stretched endlessly, and the air was thick with the weight of history and power.

My father walked beside me, his arm linked with mine as if to steady me, though we both knew it was his nerves that needed calming.

His grip tightened slightly as we neared the dais, where Prince Aemond awaited us, his figure tall and composed in black and silver.

"Remember, be courteous," my father whispered, though his voice trembled slightly. "Please."

I offered him a brief smile, more for his benefit than anything else. "Of course, Father. Always."

Aemond stood with the poise of a warrior and the air of royalty, his lone eye fixed upon me with an intensity that sent a thrill through the room. His other eye, hidden beneath a leather patch, gave him an ominous air, one that might have unsettled others.

But I had never been easily cowed.

Beside him, Queen Alicent watched carefully, her expression unreadable, while King Viserys, though weakened by age and illness, managed a welcoming smile.

"Lord Harroway," the king greeted my father warmly. "And this must be your daughter."

"Yes, Your Grace," my father replied, bowing low. "My daughter, Lady—"

I stepped forward before my father could finish, interrupting him without a second thought.

"I am Lady Harroway," I said, my voice cool and clear. I curtsied, but only just enough to avoid outright insult. I did not lower my head. "It is an honour, Your Grace."

My father tensed beside me, but I ignored the faint hiss of his breath.

The Queen exchanged a quick glance with Aemond, whose face remained impassive, though his eye did flicker with the slightest hint of interest.

His lips curled ever so faintly—not quite a smile, but something close. Something unreadable.

"We are pleased to meet you, Lady Harroway," Aemond said at last, his voice smooth but carrying a weight that demanded attention.

"And I, you, Prince Aemond," I replied, meeting his gaze without flinching.

His eye gleamed like polished amethyst in the firelight, and I wondered how many lords and ladies had been made uneasy by that stare. I would not be one of them.

"Though I must admit, I was under the impression that princes of royal blood had more important matters than to be paraded before potential brides."

My father nearly choked. "My love—"

But Aemond raised a hand, silencing him without a word. "Perhaps," he said, stepping closer, his tone as unshaken as his expression.

"But sometimes, even a prince must take note of what is placed before him. Whether it is worth his time is another matter entirely."

I smirked, tilting my head slightly, meeting his challenge without hesitation.

"Well, I do hope I prove worthy of such precious time. Though, I must say, the decision lies as much with me as with you, my prince."

Aemond's lips quirked again, and for a moment, I thought I saw something like amusement flash behind his gaze.

He took a step toward me, close enough that I could feel the sheer force of his presence. His silence was deliberate, and I knew he was testing me.

Waiting for me to falter.

But I held his gaze, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

"Indeed, it does," Aemond finally said, his voice low, his eye still locked on mine. "And what is your impression, Lady Harroway?"

"I have yet to be impressed, Prince Aemond," I said, though I couldn't quite suppress the mischievous edge to my tone. "But I'm certain you'll do your best."

The Queen shifted slightly in her seat, a flicker of disapproval crossing her face, while my father's knuckles turned white from how tightly he gripped the hilt of his cane.

I could feel his anxiety radiating off him, but I didn't care. I was too absorbed in the game being played.

My father had spent years building this fragile bridge between our house and the Targaryens, and here I was, dangling it over the edge.

Yet, for all his efforts, for all the whispered warnings, I couldn't help but wonder if I was destined for something more than the life they envisioned for me.

Aemond's expression didn't change, but his eye gleamed with an unmistakable spark.

"It seems I have my work cut out for me," he said, inclining his head ever so slightly. "I look forward to the challenge."

"I'm sure you do," I replied, a faint smile tugging at the corner of my lips.

My father finally spoke, his voice strained as he tried to smooth over what he clearly feared was a disastrous first impression.

"Your Grace, my daughter... she means no offence. She is simply... spirited."

The Queen's lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes flicking toward her son as if trying to gauge his reaction. But Aemond's attention never wavered from me.

"No offence taken, Lord Harroway," he said smoothly. "I appreciate honesty. It is rare to find."

I arched an eyebrow, a little taken aback by his words but intrigued nonetheless. He was calm, far too calm for a prince who had just been openly challenged.

Most men would have been insulted or, at the very least, unnerved. But Aemond seemed... entertained.

"Honesty is a luxury some cannot afford," I said, testing the waters further. "But I've never been one to spare words for the sake of pleasing others."

Aemond's gaze sharpened. "Good. The world has enough liars."

For a moment, the air between us seemed to crackle with something unspoken, something that neither of us was willing to break first.

It was as if we were locked in a silent battle, each waiting for the other to make a move.

Finally, the Queen spoke, her voice cool but polite. "Lady Harroway, we hope you will find your time at court... enjoyable."

I smiled sweetly, though my words were edged with sarcasm. "I'm sure it will be most illuminating, Your Grace."

As we took our leave, my father's face was pale with barely suppressed anxiety.

The moment we were out of earshot, he let out a low groan. "What in the Seven Hells were you thinking?"

I glanced at him, still feeling the strange, electric sensation from my exchange with Aemond.

"I was thinking, Father, that perhaps a Targaryen prince isn't as infallible as you've made him out to be."

"You're going to ruin this," he muttered, running a hand through his greying hair. "The Queen was glaring at you—did you not see?"

"Oh, I saw," I said, unable to hide the smug smile that crept across my face. "But did you see Prince Aemond? He wasn't angry, Father. He was intrigued."

"And that," my father sighed, "is what worries me most."

─── ✦⋅♡⋅✦ ───

The night air in King's Landing was cool, a refreshing contrast to the heat that had lingered throughout the day.

The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silver glow over the city, its quiet streets almost peaceful beneath the faint rustle of leaves and distant waves crashing against the shore.

I had never been one to stay confined for long, and tonight, the pull to escape the suffocating confines of the Keep had been too strong to resist.

I slipped out of my chambers with ease, the well-practised steps of stealth learned from years of dodging watchful eyes at my father's estate.

Wearing a simple dark cloak over my gown, I moved swiftly through the corridors, careful to avoid the guards who patrolled the castle.

The thrill of sneaking out, of defying expectations, made my pulse quicken.

My father would be furious if he knew, but that only made it all the more exhilarating.

The city below the Keep was alive in a way the castle could never be. While most of the nobles slept, commoners carried on their business, laughter and music spilling from taverns as the late-night revellers enjoyed their freedom.

But I wasn't interested in mingling with the crowds.

No, I wanted something more, something uncharted. The narrow alleys and hidden corners of King's Landing called to me, promising adventure.

As I wandered further into the maze of streets, my steps light and unhurried, I couldn't help but marvel at how different the city felt at night.

The oppressive weight of the court and its rigid rules seemed to lift, leaving behind a strange sense of liberation.

I had just turned into a quiet courtyard, the flickering lanterns casting long shadows across the cobblestones, when I sensed someone watching me.

My hand instinctively went to the small dagger I kept hidden beneath my cloak, a precaution that had become second nature.

"You know," came a voice, low and smooth from the darkness, "you really shouldn't be out here all alone."

I turned sharply, but I wasn't startled. I knew that voice.

Stepping from the shadows, Aemond emerged, his silver hair catching the moonlight, his lone eye gleaming with a hint of amusement.

He was dressed far more casually than I'd ever seen him—no heavy armour, no regal attire—just simple black leathers that clung to his form, emphasizing the quiet strength he carried so effortlessly.

My pulse quickened, but not from fear.

"I could say the same to you, Prince Aemond," I replied coolly, though a smile tugged at my lips. "Surely a Targaryen prince has more pressing matters than lurking in alleyways."

Aemond's eye flickered with amusement, though his face remained stoic as ever. "Lurking? Hardly. I was merely taking in the night air when I spotted something curious."

"Oh? And what curiosity might that be?" I asked, arching an eyebrow.

His gaze lingered on me, the intensity of his stare making the air between us crackle with tension.

"A lady of your standing, sneaking through the city in the dead of night. Unchaperoned. One might think you were up to something."

I stepped closer, refusing to be intimidated by the sharpness of his gaze. "And if I were? What would you do, Prince Aemond? Drag me back to the Keep? Lecture me on proper behaviour?"

He smiled then, just barely, the corner of his mouth lifting in a way that was both infuriating and intriguing. "Oh, I doubt anything I say would influence you in the slightest, Lady Harroway."

"You'd be right," I quipped, folding my arms and leaning against the stone wall behind me. "I've never been one for lectures."

He took a step closer, his boots clicking softly against the cobblestones, his eye never leaving mine.

"Then tell me," he said, his voice low, "what is it that brings you out here, sneaking through the city like some common thief?"

I shrugged, unbothered by his scrutiny. "Curiosity, I suppose. Or perhaps boredom. The walls of the Keep are far too stifling for my liking."

"You find the court dull?" he asked, his tone mildly teasing.

I smirked. "I find the people tiresome. Everyone so careful, so poised, afraid to speak their mind. It's all rather exhausting."

"Careful," Aemond said softly, his voice almost a purr. "If you speak too openly, someone might take offence."

I tilted my head, meeting his challenge head-on. "Let them. I've never been afraid of speaking the truth."

Aemond's eye darkened with something unreadable, but there was no anger, no offence taken. Instead, he seemed almost... pleased.

"You're an intriguing one, Lady Harroway," he murmured, his tone more thoughtful now. "Most women at court would go to great lengths to charm me, to flatter and appease."

"Well," I said simply, my chin lifting slightly. "I've never been one for flattery."

He chuckled, a low, almost dangerous sound that sent a shiver down my spine. "That much is clear. You don't bend, do you?"

"Not for anyone," I replied, my voice steady despite the strange tension simmering between us.

For a moment, neither of us spoke, the silence stretching out as we stood there, mere paces apart, locked in a silent battle of wills. His gaze held mine, searching, testing, and I refused to look away.

I could feel the weight of his presence, the sharpness of his mind behind that calculating eye. He was not a man easily impressed, nor was he one to back down from a challenge.

But I wasn't either.

Finally, he stepped back, though his gaze never wavered. "You are a rarity, Lady Harroway."

"I prefer the term 'unique,'" I said, a playful smile tugging at my lips.

He inclined his head slightly, a gesture of acknowledgement. "Unique, then."

There was a pause, a strange sense of understanding passing between us in the quiet of the night.

We were two people who didn't fit the mould, who defied expectations in a world that demanded conformity. And in that moment, I sensed that Aemond understood that better than most.

"Will you return to the Keep?" he asked, his voice softer now.

I exhaled, my earlier defiance softening just a fraction. "Perhaps. Or perhaps I'll wander a bit longer. The city has more to offer than courtly banter."

Aemond's lips quirked again, a rare hint of a smile. "I suspect it does."

We stood there for a moment longer, neither of us quite willing to be the first to leave. There was something unspoken between us, something simmering beneath the surface.

But neither of us would acknowledge it. Not yet.

Finally, Aemond broke the silence. "Until we meet again, Lady Harroway," he said, his tone formal but laced with something else—something deeper.

I smirked, my eyes gleaming in the moonlight. "Oh, I'm sure we will, Prince Aemond."

With that, I turned, disappearing into the shadows of the city streets, the thrill of our exchange still buzzing in my veins.

I could feel his gaze on me as I walked away, a smile playing at my lips. He hadn't rattled me. In fact, I had the distinct feeling I had rattled him.

And that, I thought with satisfaction, was a victory in itself.

A/n - I gotta start writing some quiet reserved characters as well tbh 😭

Aemond tag list - @darylandbethfanforever9 @lessdepressy @veesuguru

[quirekey]

Can i request an Orion x gn!reader x d16 but the two try to fight for readers attention and friendship?

<3 pleeeeeeeaaaassse?

Live laugh Orion x Reader x D16 fr dude, I love this request dude I WAS WAITING FOR THIS

[ ORION PAX ] x [ GN!READER ] x [ D16 ]

[ Orion pax x D16 x Cybertronian!GN!reader ]

You were a pretty quiet Cybertronian Miner. Socialising wasn’t something you enjoyed and you preferred the peace and quiet instead of the constant bustling that you will hear. Not having any connections did make your job more lonely since every-bot had someone to call a friend while you are working your aft off in the mines.

After working in the mines for a while, these two mechs named Orion Pax and D16 turned out to become your closest friends you ever had yet. The three of you guys always got into some sort of trouble that was started by Orion and you three are inseperatable in the mines.

Overtime, the two have become possessive and each wanted one-on-one time with you and only you. It’s not that they were not friends anymore, they just had a disagreement on who should talk to you.

D16 thinks it’s unfair how Orion can just pull you away from him just to get in trouble by the higher-guards. D16 thinks that it’s rude to pull you away from what you are already doing and assumes that you just wanna talk to him instead of going around since it’s better to stay by the the rules instead of rebelling.

Orion thinks that it’s unfair because D16 is constantly bickering and yapping to you about whoever his new interest or idol is and nothing else. Orion assumes that you think it’s boring and it’s better to get your body moving and frame in shape instead of being isolated in the mines.

They’re both fair reasons but they keep vouching for you and assuming what you want, you’re just too scared to speak up. The two are now constantly fighting over you since they always want your attention and that you enjoy only their company.

“D, you have kept them inside of this isolating waste for so long! It wouldn’t hurt to at-least go outside and get some real light in your optics!”

“Well, I want to keep (Y/N) safe unlike you. You always get them into trouble and you guys could get punished! This is for their safety.”

“Well, you’re only online for so long.”

“At-least I’ll be online for longer than you.”

“And at least I am actually doing something with my life instead of staying in the mines.”

D16 just scoffed and walked off. D16 still cares for Orion but doesn’t want to admit it due to their friendship being at stake. Orion just smirked and shrugged at you, basically not caring one bit about the guy he used to hang out with every klick (minute).

“(Y/N), why is D now so down? He’s changed.”

“I’m not sure…”

You lied to him, you knew both of their secrets to a T but it was best to not share. You are pretty observant so you took some mental notes overtime and you’d reflect over them. Both D16 and Orion Pax are always fighting for your approval and friendship but seemingly their actions prove otherwise. They are way more affectionate than your regular friends and some could never be considered as platonic unless you are really close with them. You didn’t mind their affection but it was strange that they wanted you and only you.

It gets to a point where D16 gives you small kisses on the cheek when he walks by or Orion brings you somewhere empty then asks you to cuddle. You never declined because you didn’t mind but it was hard to pick between the two. You knew they liked you and you liked them back, the problem was that they didn’t want to share.

You just walked away from Orion and thought to yourself

‘Why did this have to happen to me…?’

Well you’re lucky enough that I enjoyed this because now I’m gonna continue this overtime… bigger poll than normal that’s for sure.

[kyokutsu-sama]

Headcanons: They walking in on you

Plot: They were looking for you and decided to check in bedroom but were surprised by you trying on lingerie.

Characthers: Tengen, Sanemi, Kyojuro, Giyuu,

Tw: suggestive and a bit explicite

🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️

Tengen:

Our most flashy hashira had just arrived home with a certain joy at the thought that his lovely wives would come to welcome him with open arms, but neither you nor the others were there to greet him, which made the plan backfire on him. Tengen scratched the back of his neck and looked around trying to see if he could find any of you, but he couldn't. "These girls... Where one goes, the others go too. Anyway, I'll go upstairs." He said before going up the stairs to the bedroom He opened the bedroom door with such normality that when he came across you, his eyes widened at the sight and he stood still. "Damn!"These were the only words that came out of Hashira's lips after seeing what was in front of him The white lace that molded perfectly to your curves, your eyes fixed on him, a little embarrassed by the man's sudden entrance, which also reflected into the blush on your cheeks. All of this was more than enough for him to be dazzled by the sight right in front of him. Probably one of the most flamboyant view he had ever seen, if not the most. You got a little shy, covering yourself with your arms when you saw him looking you up and down. You two had been married for a long time and he already knew every inch of you but it was still a little embarrassing. Especially when he started giving you that damn smirk. "Wow! My wife is looking too fine and flashy in that white lace," He said, approaching you until he closed the space between you two. His height and broad build made you blush even more. "Tell me, is this some special occasion or are you just surprising your flashy husband who just got back from a mission?" He leaned down a little, whispering in your ear and you giggled "Neither. I was just trying on some lingerie I bought when I went out with the girls yesterday but you ended up walking in without knocking and now you're imagining that this would be a surprise." You said, looking at him and he smiled "Babe, I also sleep here so this room is mine too and by the way, not only am I imagining this would be a surprise, but I'm also imagining certain things I could do now."His strong hands grabbed your waist and you bit your lower lip "And what's with that creative and flamboyant mind of yours, huh?" "Well, I'm not gonna lie, I really liked the way that lace hugged those dangerous curves but you know what? I'd rather see you without it." He winked and you giggled "I hate you, pervert." You patted his back when he suddenly picked you up "I'll show you who the pervert is."

Kyojuro :

After a long mission that left him exhausted and sleepy, he finally returned home. The Flame Hashira couldn't wait to run into your arms and tell you everything about the mission and sleep cuddled up to you after that. But first of all, he needed to know where you were. "Honey, I'm home! Where are you?" He called you as he peeked into the divisions of the house but without finding you, he went to look in the bedroom "Y/n, are you ther--" He opened the bedroom door and almost fell with the view. "Wow!" His bright eyes widened in your direction as you struck a pose for him, wearing the red lingerie that match the color of the tips of his hair... and his cheeks too. He was a little embarrassed at first, but after the "shock" wore off he was able to speak. "Y/n, you... You really rocked that piece of lace. I almost fainted just now." He said, making you laugh "You really think so?" You smiled, with a little spin "Of course I do. Look at you, you're beautiful and that red looks good on you." He closed the door and approached you, hugging you from behind."Were you trying to surprise me or were you just bored and decided to try on clothes?" He asked, leaving a kiss on your temple "Well," You turn around and put your arms around his neck and his hands pulled you closer."I was just trying it out because I bought it a while ago and hadn't used it since, but since you liked it, I guess it ended up being a good surprise." "Yeah, it was and I guess I should thank you for this, my dear wife." He said, running his hands over your body and you looked into his eyes "You look really tired now that you've come back from your mission, are you sure you have enough energy?" You whispered defiantly in your husband's ear. "It's just that I don't want you to pass out on me, in the middle of... you know." He chuckled softly at your words, kissing your forehead "Don't worry about me, my little flame. I'm a strong man." He winked "I know and that's why I love you." You said, kissing him right after

Sanemi :

The smell of blood and sweat was ingrained in him after he had spent hours killing those monsters. He took off his shoes at the door and put his sword aside. His white haori now had red blood stains and there were a few cuts on the skin of his exposed chest. He would be getting scars soon and that was something he would be proud of. And even more so knowing that you would like them too. And speaking of you, where were you? Why weren't you there when he arrived? Were you already asleep? Probably, he thought. There were nights when even if he arrived late, you would wait for him to go to bed, but that didn't seem to be one of them. He searched the house and found no sign of you until he decided to check the bedroom. "Are you slee--" He opened the door and saw you in front of the mirror wearing only the black lingerie that suited you like a glove and highlighted the pretty curves his hands had passed over so many times He stared at you for a while, his eyes analyzing every corner of you from top to bottom and seeing how beautiful you looked. He could have sworn at that moment that he felt something move down there at that moment. In fact, his pants got a little tighter. And you couldn't help but blush when you noticed. "Oh, you're home... I-I thought you wouldn't be back so soon. I mean, missions sometimes last until sunrise." You said, your voice a little shaky, the nervousness hitting you as he closed the door and approached you with slow steps. You could guess the things that were going through his head at that moment just by the way he looked at you. "Well, it's 2am, I thought you were sleeping already, but apparently you had other plans." "Well, I... I decided to try this piece on after Mitsuri offered it to me for my birthday." "I see..." The wind hashira took off his haori, throwing it aside, his eyes still remained on you. "She's really an airhead, but I think she made a good choice this time." "Did you like it?" "Yes, but I think it will only end up getting in the way. You would be better without it." He took off the top of his uniform and unbuckled the belt of his pants "You seem a little 'excited' for someone who just got back from a bloody mission." You teased, looking down and seeing the bulge in his pants "I wonder why..." He said, pulling you by the waist with one of his strong arms that held you tightly and you grabbed his shoulders."Looks like I got here just in time. My wife seems a little cheeky tonight." He whispered and you felt a chill run down your spine "I wonder why..." You mimicked his words "Oh, so this is all for me?" "Why not? Is it too much for you to handle?" You teased and he chuckled, placing a hand on your neck and lifting your head so you could look him in the eye "Get ready because when you're lying there, rolling those pretty eyes of yours and screaming my name, I'll to ask you the same thing." He winked, before pulling you into a kiss "Nemi, you stink of the blood of those creatures." You smiled against his lips "Screw the smell, I have priorities now." He grumbled, kissing you again

Giyuu:

He arrived home, slowly opening the door with the idea that you would already be asleep by now. Little did he know... Giyuu took off his shoes and took off his dirty, sweaty haori and uniform before going to the bathroom to take a quick shower. He wrapped a towel around his waist and went to the bedroom to get dressed, but as soon as he opened the door and saw you wearing the dark blue lingerie, he quickly looked away and felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment. Not only because he was shy by nature, but also because you were so beautiful that you always made him blush as if it were the first time he saw you half-naked. You, on the other hand, couldn't help but find his face cute at that moment, although the fact that he was only wearing a towel in front of you caused something in you. "Sorry...I thought you were... sleeping." He said, still embarrassed, but his eyes were already showing signs of boldness, occasionally peeking out no matter how much he tried to contain himself "Well... And I thought you were still on the mission, but you're here." You felt a blush on your cheeks when you notice your husband eyes looking at your figure, from head to toe It was a tense moment that stood there but the water hashira took a few steps towards you, bringing his hands to your face and looking at you, who felt goosebumps with his touch. "You look very beautiful dressed like that, the color suits you and your body fits perfectly in it." He complimented "That was sweet of you, thanks."You smiled at him."I had bought it other day and was about to show it to you when we had more time together, but since you've been spending all these nights away, I decided to try it on by myself." "And even though I was busy, I was still lucky enough to have the opportunity to see you in it." "Yes, but you know, it's a little late to be trying on clothes, so why don't you help me take them off?" He looked at you for a moment after that sentence, trying to understand what the intention was, but after seeing your bright eyes and your teasing smile he came to a conclusion. "Yes, too late to try on clothes but not too late for other things..." He thought, looking from your eyes to your lips "So, you're not sleepy yet, are you?" He asked and you shook your head He took off the towel and pulled you to him, kissing you. You held onto his arms, feeling his hardness brushing against you, which made you moan during the kiss. He pulled away for a moment and brought his lips to your ear. "I'll take it off for you then." He whispered, breathlessly

[peppermintquartz]

Evan Buckley was made to save lives.

Literally.

Selected to amplify the healing abilities that had already manifested in his sister, Philip and Margaret Buckley allowed Manifest Bio Tech to harvest the necessary cells and tweak them.

But nature or fate still had a say, and Evan didn't emerge a healer.

++++

Evan was made to heal, but the only person he could heal was himself. He still got hurt, but his recovery time was four to six times faster than regular, unaltered humans.

They tried harvesting his bone marrow to replicate the effects but it didn't work.

Daniel still had to die, the cancer in him too resilient against even the harshest of treatments.

When they buried Daniel, Evan had barely begun to learn to walk. If he hurt from the extractions, his parents didn't know or care; Maddie's tears would ease the physical pain anyway.

++++

When Evan ran away from home to get Maddie to flee with him, Doug flipped out. He needed Maddie's tears. They were the secret to his success as a doctor.

She didn't run. She didn't even meet him to tell him why.

Evan drove away, full of a helpless fury at his sister and at himself.

++++

Across the world, Tommy Kinard was gaining a reputation for surviving unlikely odds. But when the options were death, maiming, disfigurement and merely broken bones, there was only so much Tommy's ability could do. But that tiny spark that danced up and down his spine got him to bank sharply just before they were hit, so while they crash landed with injuries, they were not blown up to smithereens.

He received a medal and promptly shipped home to the States to recuperate, and he insisted on remaining in Los Angeles where his grandmother lived. Since he needed a job, he decided to join the LAFD.

Because of Tommy, Nonna had another eight happy years with her beloved grandson. On her last birthday (not that either of them knew that), she bought a lottery ticket and had him check it.

The effect of his ability was dampened slightly since she was the one who made the purchase, but it did make Tommy's life after Nonna a lot more comfortable.

After Nonna died, Tommy felt that little tingle that said something unlikely was about to happen. The very next day, an opening in Harbor Station for a trained pilot opened up.

Tommy knew that was for him.

++++

Evan ended up in Los Angeles, and after a series of gigs, decided that he might as well risk his life and limb for good reasons than bad. His accelerated healing stood him in good stead, too, though he had to choose a different name.

Fire, falls, explosions, water, lightning; Buck survived them all.

And then he met Tommy.

++++

The moment he saw the three from the 118, he felt that telltale zing running down his spine.

Unlikely odds.

Not Chimney, that was for sure; they had encountered each other often enough.

Soulful Eyes shook Tommy's hand. Nothing. "Eddie Diaz."

"I'm Evan, Evan Buckley," says the pretty guy with the kissable lips and fingerprint-sized splotches of wine pink on his left eye and brow.

"Tommy Kinard, hi," said Tommy. He braced himself for the moment they made skin contact, and there it was - the spark, racing from the point of contact over his skin all the way up and down his spine.

Unlikely odds.

++++

They still broke up.

Before he drove over, he had felt the telltale tingle along his spine, and he should have known that it was only for the parking spot, and not for Evan to say, "I am falling in love with you."

There was nothing his ability could do in this case.

++++

Buck didn't know why his healing abilities refused to heal the hurt or fill up the emptiness in his heart. He baked and baked and baked, and each time he was done, he wanted to call Tommy and tell him about what he made.

And he would bake some more.

Maddie who hardly cried nowadays gave him a vial of her healing tears, to be added to any recipe of his choice.

He added it to a simple brownie recipe. It didn't help.

++++

While he had sort of vaguely wished he had healing abilities that could have helped Daniel, Buck never cursed his abilities more than when they raced to rescue Tommy and the patient he and his partners were transporting.

"I don't need to heal me," he begged the fates that had granted him his power. "Heal him. Save him."

Tommy smiled, feeling consciousness about to slip away. "Evan, what are... the odds for me... to have you as my last?"

"You know what's less likely?" Buck demanded through his tears. Droplets fell on Tommy's upturned face. "That you make it through this unscathed and we get back together and we have a happily ever after. Focus on making that happen!"

A tired tremble raced over Tommy's skin and down his spine. He smiled to himself and murmured, "As you wish."

[yeonmuse]

WHICH FLOOR? | Day 14

PAIRING vocalist & drummer mingi x stranger reader

WORD COUNT | 1.4k

GENRE Smut

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ‼️

SUMMARY two complete strangers meet in an elevator, how could this possibly escalate?

MORE | Day 14 of the Groupie Love Series

You were completely fucking exhausted, a night of concerts, drinking and afterparties had you completeky beat. You were more than happy the moment you stepped into the elevator of your hotel. As you close your eyes for a moment of rest, and lie your head against the elevator wall you could sense the presence of someone else stepping onto the elevator. It's when you hear the doors close and you feel the movement of the elevator that you open your eyes and they land on him who had already been staring at you.

That someone was none other than song mingi, one of the hottest drummers to ever grace the stage. The very drummer that you had just seen perforning hours ago.

“Which floor?”

“Hm?” You had been a little too busy checking him out to even register a thing that he had been saying. Of course it didn’t go unnoticed by him.

“You didn’t press anything, what floor are you on?”

“15.” You respond dryly, trying to brush off the fact that you wanted absolutely nothing more than to jump his bones right now. As he pressed the number to you he seemed to observe you for a moment.

“You look like you had a fun night.”

“Do i?”

“Mm looks like it to me, otherwise it's just a waste of an outfit.” He responds, drinking you in from head to toe.

“Mm i wouldn’t call your concert and street party a waste, thanks to your band i had a good time.”

“Oh? Too bad I didn’t see you there, I think I could have elevated your time a little more.”

“Is that right? Even with all your groupies lined up at your door?”

“Kinda disappointing that you yourself weren’t one of them” It was like he was challenging you to bite back, and one thing about you you never backed down from a challenge.

“Mm sorry but I prefer your lead guitarist, though I am truly flattered.” He chuckles at your response and Before you had known it he had stopped the elevator and caged you between himself and the wall.

“I’m sure with a little alone time I can change your mind.” He gave you no time to resist, not that you would anyways, the way your fingers tangled in his hair almost instantaneously gave him all the confirmation he needed.

He wasted no time tearing off your clothes and lifting you against the wall before going between your thighs. He eyed your every reaction as he slid his tongue through your folds, his eyes flickering with a desperate hunger as he became overwhelmed with the heat of your body and the sweet sounds that left your lips. As your eyes met his and you spotted that cocky smirk on his lips, part of you wanted to pull away. To not give him the satisfaction of knowing he had you feeling quite weak. With a soft chuckle he immediately pulled his face from between your legs and licked his lips. He could tell you were struggling with your desires along with your urge to spite him. He knew very well you were annoyed with how confident he was in the way he could make you crumble, you knew he must have done this countless times with countless women but honestly you couldn’t care less.

“Still thinking about hongjoong?” a devilish smirk covered his lips and as he leaned down to slide his tongue over your thigh he felt your body jerk beneath him. His long tongue slipped between your folds as he eyed you continue to struggle with your thoughts. You couldn’t believe that even when he had you in such a compromising position he was bringing up his band mate.

“Go on angel, tell me how much you like him yeah? Is he your favorite sweetheart?” Before you could manage even one word his lips wrapped around your lips and he began to suck at your clit. This earned a frustrated moan from you, when he treated your body in such ways there was no way you’d let out any words that were remotely coherent.

“I’m waiting doll, let me hear it.” His tongue began to lap at your folds like he was hungry for it. his nails digging into your thighs with every whine or moan of pleasure that spilled from your lips. It made him hungrier for it, hungrier to hear you crying and begging beneath him.

When he was met with continued silence he removed his lips from your soaked cunt to kiss along your thighs. His teeth grazed the skin of your inner thighs earning a whimper on your part. A whimper that didn’t go unnoticed by him caused him to do it again. His eyes remained trained on your face as he continued to tease your body with his teeth and tongue alone. He felt your grip on his hair tighten

"Quit playing with me and just fuck me already, you’re going to do it whether I like him or not right?.'' You could practically feel the smirk on his lips against your thigh.

“I’ll make sure to train you well enough that any time you even look at him you’ll only think about the way I fucked you in this elevator.”

“He’s certainly hard to forget-” before you could even finish you felt him push past your entrance stretching you out until he fully bottomed out inside you. Your tightness earned a low growl from him as he pushed so deep you could have sworn you felt him hit the top of your stomach

“Go on, finish your sentence doll.” He continued to jerk his hips up into you knowing that if he kept at it you wouldn’t be able to say a word.

He watched the blissed out look on your face with every little thrust inside you.

“Funny, the moment you get stuffed like a pretty little cocksleeve you immediately go mute.” A chuckle spilled past his lips and he immediately spread your legs wider and pushed your thighs back against your chest. Your moans were evident enough that whatever pain you felt if any had gone away. He wasted no time fucking into you, rough and feverish thrusts from the very beginning. Thrusts that caused your eyes to roll to the back of your head so hard you saw stars.

Your nails dug into the only available surface they could latch onto; his shoulders. He watched as your mouth fell open, lines of saliva dripping down your chin as gargled moans spilled past your lips.

“Fuck.” The sound of your desperate cries and stifled moans spilling from your lips was like heaven. He immediately leans down to take your nipple between his lips while his other hand fondles your breasts. The pleasure had been overwhelming your bodies in ways you hadn’t thought to be possible. From the flicking of his tongue against your breasts every time he thrusted in to you feeling like the more he fucked the deeper into your stomach his cock seemed to push.

“Look at you pretty girl, you like him so much yet here you are taking my dick like some sort of cockslut, do you think he’d still fuck you if he knew his bandmate got to you first?” Your thoughts had been so cloudy that you could barely even make out anything he had been talking to you about.

“I bet you’d like to get tossed around by us right? You don’t really have a favorite do you? Such a pretty little whore gonna cum all over my cock, all while thinking about how all of us could use you.” He immediately rested one hand on your waist while resting the other on your stomach and pushing down. He wanted to feel just how far his cock could go inside your little frame. This action was all it took to push you over the edge, the moment he pushed down upon your stomach your legs shook and it was a glorious sight for him to see you squirt upon the impact of his hand. Your legs shook violently as his thrusts grew in speed and the low growls that spilled from his mouth made it all more easy for you to unravel right then and there, your cum spilling out onto his cock along with the desk in mere seconds. Mingi wasnt too far behind as the fucked out look on your face and the way your tight cunt clenched around him was all he needed for him to spill his load into you.

“Tomorrow.” He tilts your head up and brushes his thumb over your swollen lips.

“I check out tomorrow, be ready to go by 8 o'clock. The others wouldn’t mind if you tagged along for the rest of the tour.”

[gojozballs]

Gojo x Reader "How To Escape A Yandere"

Warning: [This story contains themes of Yandere behavior, manipulation, obsessive love, psychological tension, explicit content, self-harm, and dark themes including death and captivity]

Materialist

Gojo Satoru’s obsessive love traps Y/N in a dangerous, yandere relationship as she desperately tries to escape, blurring the lines between captivity and affection.

Author's POV

Four months. That’s how long Y/N had been stuck in this bizarre, unhinged chapter of her life. Four months since she’d wandered into Japan, thinking she was just ticking off items on her bucket list, and well, she still couldn’t quite figure out how she ended up being the personal prisoner of a man with white hair and a ridiculously cocky grin. But here we are. Four months of high-end apartments, luxury cars, and far too much—Gojo Satoru.

But let's rewind, shall we? To the beginning, when life was much simpler. When she was just a regular tourist, trying to figure out what to eat for dinner. And then, of course, there was that one fateful evening in Shibuya...

Shibuya Streets – 9 PM

Y/N stood in the middle of Shibuya’s neon-lit chaos, wondering if she should check out the ramen shop across the street or maybe that weird little café that looked like it was run by a very angry cat. The possibilities were endless, her trip was unfolding like a tourist's dream but nothing could have prepared her for the interruption that would lead to her captivity.

There he was. A literal vision of perfection, strutting down the street like he owned the whole damn place. White hair, a long black coat that looked like it was made by some world-renowned designer, and a scarf that screamed "I’m too cool to care about the weather." He was practically glowing in the dark, making the neon lights look drab in comparison. And Y/N? She did what any sensible person would do.

She stared.

Not subtlety. None. She wasn’t here for a shy glances situation. No, she was staring, and she was making it known. If she could’ve put on a neon sign that said “LOOK AT ME” she would’ve.

And look at her he did. Their eyes met. The universe, for a brief moment, paused and then everything went into slow motion. Y/N gave him the most casual, confident smirk she could muster. She was practically inviting him to make his move. And boy, did he.

He walked toward her with that strut, the kind of walk that says, “I know you’re impressed. Don’t bother hiding it.” And when he reached her, he didn’t even waste time on pleasantries.

“Well, may I know the name of the lady who’s been blatantly staring at me?”

Y/N blinked. He was speaking in her language. Which, okay, wasn’t exactly a shocker, after all but there was something extra about the way he said it. So smooth, like he knew she’d been checking him out the whole time. She wasn’t even that subtle.

Y/N, being the person she was, didn’t flinch. Instead, she smiled and replied, “Well, hello there, sir. I’m Y/N. And who might you be to captivate me so much?”

Gojo chuckled, a sound that was like a warm breeze, and for a moment, Y/N actually considered the possibility that she might have bitten off more than she could chew. But hey, when in Rome or, well, Shibuya right?

“The question isn't who I am,” he said with that signature cocky grin. “It’s why you can’t take your eyes off me.”

Y/N felt a surge of excitement. This was a game. A thrilling, dangerous game. And, of course, she was all in.

“Well,” she purred, “you’ll just have to find out.”

Getting To Know Each Other

Y/N wasn’t sure how it happened. Honestly. One minute she was exchanging playful banter with Gojo Satoru, and the next bam! they were tangled in the sheets of a five-star hotel room, breathing heavily, both far too into each other for their own good.

Gojo, the smug bastard, leaned back on the pillows and let out a satisfied sigh. “Didn’t take you for a woman with experience,” he teased, his voice low and lazy.

Y/N, who was already not in the mood to let him win any round, raised an eyebrow and gave him a playful side-eye. “Well, I didn’t take you for a guy who whimpers.”

She swore she saw a flicker of surprise flash in his eyes, and it made her grin like a devil. Gojo, the untouchable, the most powerful person in Japan whimpering? he thought. Oh, this was getting good.

“You should know,” Gojo said, propping himself up on his elbows, “you were way more vocal than me.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, feigning innocence. “I didn’t realize that.”

“Really?” Gojo’s voice was a dangerous whisper. “Well, let’s check again, shall we?”

And just like that, another round began.

Present

Now, four months into this unplanned, absurdly complicated mess of an adventure, Y/N had one very simple, very clear goal: escape.

But there was just one tiny problem. Gojo Satoru. The man was everywhere. Literally. She tried to leave for groceries, and boom, there he was, “accidentally” showing up at the store. She tried to sneak out at night, and suddenly, there he was smiling like a Cheshire cat.

“You know, Y/N,” he’d say with that maddening grin, “you can’t run away from me. You’re mine now.”

It was cute at first. But after a while, it got... not so cute. The guy was like a relentless puppy that you couldn’t shake off, except the puppy had limitless power and a twisted sense of humor.

And the worst part? Sometimes, just sometimes, Y/N found herself thinking: What if I didn’t escape?

But nah, that thought was far too dangerous, and she quickly shoved it to the back of her mind. For now, she was focusing on how to, once again, dodge Gojo’s very real and very possessive grasp. But if you ask her, she might just tell you that escaping was a little overrated.

Because let’s face it, Gojo Satoru was a whole lot of trouble, but damn, was he fun to mess with.

Still, if she really wanted to escape a yandere like him, she’d have to get creative. Pretend to like his weird, obsessive affection? Nah, that’s too much of a horror show even for her. The trick? A mix of patience, subtle sabotage like hiding his sunglasses good luck going anywhere without those, Gojo and a touch of psychological warfare. And if that didn’t work, well, maybe she’d just have to fake an even more ridiculous obsession than his and watch him lose his mind. It was a gamble, but Y/N was good at playing games especially when the stakes were her freedom. She doesn’t care about the consequences; all she knows is that she will escape."

The Only Way Out Is to Get Help

First things first: I need to get help. It’s my only shot at escaping from him. If I can reveal Gojo’s true nature, maybe I’ll stand a chance. Every Saturday, a blonde guy in a suit and another man would come over. Gojo always tells me to stay in the room. He doesn’t hide me away from them, but he doesn’t let me interact with them either. So, the timing is crucial. It’s 5 PM now, and they’ll be here around 7. My mission? Stay out of that damn room before he locks me in.

I smile sweetly, playing my part. "Hey, would you let me make you some apple pie tonight? I’ve got all the ingredients." I settle into his lap, his hand sliding possessively over my thigh. One thing about Gojo Satoru? He’s obsessed with sweets, and I know this will keep me out of the room, at least for a little while.

"Aww, baby, you’re the best!" he gushes, and before I can pull away, his lips find mine in a flurry of kisses. I smirk internally. He’s so easy to manipulate when it comes to his weaknesses. This could work if I time it just right.

In the kitchen, I hear the door creak open. I don’t see them, but I know they’ve arrived. The penthouse is huge, but I can hear the sound of their voices echoing down the hall. Gojo’s voice, sharp and commanding, calls out to me.

"Sweetcheeks! How’s the pie going?"

I freeze. My heart starts racing. What if he makes me go to the room? I scramble to keep my composure. "Well, it’s almost done, but I need to keep an eye on it," I stammer. My hands tremble as I pour juice into two glasses. I need to move fast. I can’t let him lock me away.

"Alright, I’ll just be over here for a second… Stay away from the visitors, yeah?" Gojo’s voice isn’t a suggestion it’s a threat. I nod hastily, hoping to hide my anxiety.

This is it. I take a deep breath and make my move.

I step into the living room, hands shaking slightly as I walk toward the two men. They glance at me, and then they stand up, clearly taken off guard by my sudden appearance. The blonde man gives me a polite smile, but there’s something too practiced about it.

"Good evening."

"You didn’t have to. We’re leaving soon anyway," the other man says, his voice neutral as he glances at the juice in my hands.

I can’t waste time. This is my only chance. "Listen to me closely," I say, voice shaking with urgency. "I need to get out of here right now. Please… you have to help me."

Both men look at me, but there’s no shock, no surprise just a quiet understanding, like they’ve heard this before. The blonde man steps closer, his eyes searching mine. "What do you mean?"

My heart pounds in my chest as I spill everything, my voice trembling. "I’m being held captive! By that man. I’ve been here for months! Against my will!" My words come out in a rush, desperate to get them to understand.

But their reactions are not what I expect.

The blonde man simply tilts his head. "Seems like Gojo-san’s stories weren’t exaggerated after all."

I blink, completely thrown off. What the hell do they mean by that? They’re... acting like this is normal?

The smaller man in the suit adds, almost casually, "Well, that’s just Gojo for you."

I stand there, frozen, my mind reeling. They’re not even reacting like it’s a big deal. No shock, no concern just another day at the office for them. It feels as though they’ve seen this all before, as if it’s just another facet of Gojo Satoru that they’ve come to accept. They don’t question it. They don’t intervene.

Before I can ask any more, Gojo’s voice cuts through the air, laced with a dark warning. "Causing a scene, sweetcheeks? I told you to stay away from them."

His hand grabs my chin, forcing me to look up at him. There’s no playfulness in his gaze now just raw, unrelenting darkness. "Do you want to see another man that badly?"

And then it hits me. I understand the twisted truth. Gojo isn’t keeping me away from them to protect me. He’s doing it out of jealousy, that sick, possessive urge to control every inch of my life.

The worst part? These men... they’re not surprised. They don’t care. They just accept that this is Gojo’s way, and that’s how things are. There’s no saving me from this nightmare.

I shiver, but I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me break. I have to find another way because if I stay here any longer, I might lose whatever little of myself I have left.

Freedom in Death

It’s been two weeks since I tried my first escape, two weeks since my wrists were marked by the desperate attempt. The bruises are healing, but the frustration? That never fades. Sure, Gojo’s given me everything: luxury gifts, food so expensive it could make anyone feel guilty, and experiences I’d never known existed before I met him. I should be happy, right? But no, I’m suffocating. It’s not the lavish life I thought I’d always wanted.

I need to disappear. The plan this time? To vanish completely, to make myself a ghost. The thought that Gojo could easily erase me from existence, make me a missing person without even breaking a sweat, has been haunting my every thought. He has power that could bury me without a trace.

I’m already numb, the luxury around me like glitter on a dead body.

“Y/n, babyyyy, I bought caviar for dinner!” Gojo’s voice cuts through the heavy silence, too cheerful for the mood I’m in. I hate it, that forced brightness in his tone that only makes me feel more like a prisoner than anything else. He’s always there, smiling, watching, like I’m just one more toy to add to his collection.

I sigh, my breath heavy as I reply, “Alright, let me just wash up.” My voice is flat, detached, like I’m talking through a haze. It doesn’t matter, though. He wouldn’t care. I walk into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. Not that it’ll stop him. Gojo can break anything, but for now, I’ll indulge myself in this small act of control.

The tub is cold. I keep my clothes on as I sit down, the knife beside me gleaming with dark potential. This is it. I can end it all. No more hiding. No more pretending I don’t want to escape from the nightmare of Gojo’s love. He thinks he’s the sun, that he can shine on everyone and anyone—but not me.

I lift the blade slowly, positioning it on my wrist. The cold steel makes my heart race, my fingers trembling as I whisper into the silence, “I hope you take karma for this, Gojo Satoru.”

The first cut stings. I let out a shaky breath, watching the blood spill out like it’s finally leaving the prison inside me. I don’t stop there. No, I dig deeper. I carve out my pain, feeling the red warmth spread. I welcome the dizziness, the fading light. It’s almost... peaceful.

But then... his voice.

“Sweetcheek, why are you taking so long in there?” Gojo knocks, his voice casual, like he’s asking me about dinner, not about what I’m about to do. I don’t answer.

He doesn’t try to break down the door, which is laughable. He doesn’t know. He thinks I’m just taking a long bath, but he’s wrong.

I’m dying in here.

I can hear his footsteps getting closer. I can hear his stupid, careless voice call my name. “Y/n? Baby?” The door rattles, and then I feel his hands, pulling me into his chest, his breath hitching as he realizes what I’ve done.

I smile weakly, feeling the world spin. This is satisfying, in a way. His panic, his desperation. The way he holds me like I’m a fragile thing that could break. But he doesn’t understand.

“Y/n?! Baby? No, no, no...” His voice cracks, and my heart stabs like the knife in my wrist. Tears? Is he crying? Oh, how deliciously unexpected. I want to laugh.

But I don’t have the strength.

“Don’t you close your eyes, baby,” he says, his voice trembling, his hands shaking as they press against my skin. "This isn't over."

And then everything fades to black...

I wake up in a bed I didn’t ask for. A bed surrounded by the faint scent of antiseptic, the echo of voices too close, too suffocating.

“She’ll be fine now, Satoru,” a woman’s voice says. It’s calm, too calm.

“Maybe you should stay here in the meantime, just to be sure, Shoko,” Gojo’s weak voice follows, barely above a whisper.

“She’s fine. Just keep an eye on her like you always do,” the woman, Shoko, says. I can almost hear the roll of her eyes, the distance in her words.

And then I realize it. I’m still here. I’m still trapped. I couldn’t even escape with death.

I want to scream...

A month has passed with Satoru never leaving for work, staying by my side to ensure I won't try anything like that again. The days drag on, but I force myself to heal, to put on the appearance of recovery. Because as soon as I’m whole again, another plan will begin. And this time, nothing will stop me...

Yandere by Choice, Not by Heart

If I could match his vibe back then, I could definitely do it again. You know, the whole “pretend to be just as obsessed” routine until he finally cracks and gives me the freedom I want. So far, this little game has been almost too easy. He thinks I’m just needy, but I’ve got my eyes on the prize freedom. The one thing I’ve learned about Gojo Satoru? He’s a busy man, and he takes his job seriously. If I can keep up this act, I can make him so wrapped up in me that he’ll fold. At least, that’s the plan.

As I feel his arms slip from around me, I can tell the routine is starting. He’s always so punctual, always so... serious about his work. It’s cute, really, but today? Not today, not when I need him to stay in bed with me just a little longer.

“Toruuu…” I whined, pulling him back to me. “Where you going?”

He froze, half standing and half leaning over, looking like the workaholic he is. I took that as my cue and immediately tugged him back down, burying my face in his chest and sniffing him like he’s some kind of scent-filled snack. Just like he does to me. His scent? Pure temptation.

“Oh sweet cheeks, what’s up with you?” He chuckled, his voice a low, smooth purr as he stroked my hair. “You know it’s time for me to get ready for work.”

I made a dramatic, exaggerated groan. “But I need you hereeee.”

Mentally, I cringed at my own words. Did I just say that? Yeah, I did. Whatever. He loves it. He’s not going anywhere. He’s gonna stay with me and—wait for it—skip work for me.

“Oh, really?” Gojo chuckled, his arms tightening around me as if he’s considering it. “Alright, since you’ve never been this sweet, maybe I’ll skip today.”

Yes! Victory! My first win. I mentally fist-pumped, but on the outside, I kept the act up, batting my lashes at him like I had no idea what I was doing.

"Thank you, Toru," I said in my best innocent voice, nuzzling into him. “I promise, I’ll make it worth your while.”

Days Passed...

My plan? Keep turning up the obsession. I’m practically a step away from being more needy than he is. And you know what? It’s working. Slowly but surely, it’s working.

There was that one day when I insisted we shower together. Nothing too extreme, just a bit of skin-to-skin to remind him that, yes, I am always this close to him.

“Mm, I love when we shower together,” I purred, pretending to casually reach for the shampoo, brushing my body against his.

Gojo smirked, his usual cocky grin spreading across his face. “Yeah? You just want to see me naked.”

“Maybe,” I teased, “but mostly, I just love when you're all wet and slippery.”

His eyes darkened for a second, but he quickly recovered. “You're a mess, you know that?”

“Oh, but I’m your mess.” I grinned up at him.

He just laughed, as if he enjoyed every second of it. I could practically hear the wheels turning in his head, trying to decide if he should be more amused or concerned.

But wait, there’s more.

I also started following him everywhere. I mean everywhere. To the bathroom at night? I’d insist on accompanying him. Peeing together? Sure, why not. We’re close, after all. Besides, he never seems to mind when I casually slide into the bathroom with him at two in the morning.

“Really, Y/N? You’re going to watch me pee?” he teased one night as I leaned against the doorframe, casually inspecting my nails.

“I’m not watching,” I replied with a wicked grin. “I’m joining.”

The night didn’t stop there, though. After all, if we’re going to do this, let’s do it right. We had to have our “three times a day” sex quota. Why not? It’s not like we had anything better to do, right?

“You’re insatiable,” Gojo said, breathlessly flipping us over mid-session as I moaned against him. “You sure you’re not the one obsessed here?”

“Why, Toru, I am obsessed,” I whispered in his ear, my lips brushing against his skin. “But you're the one who started this.”

And oh, he did. He absolutely started it. Now I had him where I wanted him: in every way possible.

The Ultimate Game

Okay, so maybe I got a little carried away. He loved when I ate off his plate. He loved when I insisted on eating from the same spoon as him. A little weird, but it worked. At least he didn’t seem to mind. He seemed... content? Happy? Maybe?

“Seriously, Y/N?” Gojo asked, as I snatched another piece of sushi from his plate. “You’re eating all my food.”

“I’m just making sure you’re not starving,” I said sweetly, taking another bite. “We’re basically one. So it’s only fair, don’t you think?”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” He shook his head, a smirk dancing at the corner of his lips. “If you want to eat off my plate, you’re going to have to share the bathroom with me every time I go in there.”

“Done.”

Oh, and don’t forget the bathroom negotiations. Every time I would "need" some alone time, I'd make sure he waited outside the door. Not to pee or anything oh no, I was doing my business but it was all a part of the game. And guess what? He was starting to enjoy it.

“Really, Y/N?” Gojo said, sitting casually against the doorframe, smirking at me. “You’re going to make me wait outside?”

“Yep. You’re lucky I’m even letting you know what’s going on in there.”

It was a lot of fun, but I couldn’t help the nagging thought in the back of my mind... Was I starting to lose myself in this little game?

It’s working. It’s all working. All the clinginess, all the obsession, it’s finally making him bent to my will. And every time he smirks, every time he looks at me with that dangerous, half-amused, half-worried look, I know he’s in it now.

“Be as obsessed as he is,” I thought to myself, a wicked grin on my face.

But maybe... just maybe... I was starting to like it.

The Endgame

Okay, okay. Maybe escaping was a bit… ridiculous. Who needs to escape anyway? The more I thought about it, the more I realized: What if the real escape wasn’t about running? What if the escape was just… getting lost in this whole twisted, insane mess?

It was starting to hit me maybe he wasn’t that bad. I mean, sure, Gojo Satoru was possessive, borderline obsessive, and utterly impossible to shake off, but let’s be real: when was the last time anyone was this dedicated to loving you? Hell, it’s practically a rarity these days. Most guys can’t even commit to a dinner reservation, let alone a life sentence with someone like me.

So yeah, maybe he stalks me like a possessive ghost. Maybe he follows me everywhere, even into the bathroom 'I really wasn’t expecting him to just chill outside while I… did my thing, but hey, that’s true commitment'. Maybe I kind of like it.

And let’s not even mention the whole “skipping work” thing. Seriously, it’s like he’s a workaholic... unless I pout and bat my lashes, and suddenly he’s throwing his entire career out the window for me. It’s not like I forced him into it… too much. Who wouldn’t want to feel this wanted? That’s basically an act of love, right?

[kaislvves]

IN WHICH; you and kaiser get into an argument over a stupid reason which leads into a hard launch after his match.

a/n: do NAWT speak to me about how unrealistic the last scenes are. i KNOWW how crazy fans can be and they’d probably be mauling/trampling you guys to death😭 also say no to telling me to put my ear to your mouth and listen what you have to say (kaz ref…) only to tell me this is ooc leave me alone pls. & not proofread lolz

cw: swearing, arguments -> making up, my writing

“i could stay for tonight.”

it was sickening coming from your tongue because kaiser knew he didn’t want you only for tonight. he’s coming close to crushing you with how hard he’s squeezing your body like he never wants you to leave.

“just for tonight?” is a question he poses. the air around you two remains silent and it angers him—are you thinking about an answer? for there is no other answer than accepting defeat and staying in his arms, forever.

you try squirming around to wiggle your way out of his hold because it was getting warmer than you’d like it to be. “yes, micha. just for tonight.” you start whining at this point but he does not budge no matter how hard you try. he’s only growing more irritated by your response paired up with the nickname you call him to be affectionate.

affectionate his ass—you’re basically admitting you hate him. as much as he loves being seen as an enemy in others’ eyes, he hates when you perceive him in such a manner. “don’t call me micha.” his huffing out and you can feel the vibrations in his chest

“okay mr. football prodigy.” your tease is muffled by his chest. in most situations, he’d take it as a compliment to feed his ego but he knows you’re deliberately trying to egg him on. and though he currently can’t see your face because of the position you guys are in, he swears he can feel your eyes rolling at him.

“i still have a life… and a job.” now it’s your turn to get fed up by his behavior. “am i not your life?” he’s sounding like you genuinely just offended his whole bloodline and hell, maybe even very distant ancestors. you want to say he’s joking but judging by experience, he most certainly isn’t.

one thing you understood when you first started dating him was that he would not give up his career for you and using the same logic, you didn’t have to either. now can some mind reader tell you why this is happening? why is he being so stubborn about this in particular? not like kaiser isn’t dramatic or stubborn most of the time but he’s never been this stubborn over a matter like this.

“michael that’s not… i just—i can’t just give everything up for you.” oh, now you’re calling him by his full first name? perhaps that wasn’t the best way to word it because you feel grip shifting to the back of your head to keep it in place, he does this because he doesn’t want you seeing his face. “why not?” he barks a lot quieter than he normally does.

“what do you mean by ‘why not’? this has been my life, even before i met you.” you try holding in the scoff that you were trying so hard to avoid but it’s obvious now.

as if it wasn’t already tense but it feels like it bloomed into a raging silence. you believe he’s thinking of an answer but in reality, he isn’t. he’s thinking about anything else other than him opening his mouth because only the heavens know what words would spew out of his mouth if he were to—imagine how worse he’d make this petty argument.

you hate this.

you hate silence.

you hate him being silent.

and you make the dumb decision to add salt to the injury—the one thing kaiser didn’t want to do. “do you actually want to argue about this? if so, i’m not staying at all.” there you go, saying things you don’t actually mean. “do you mean that?” oh he actually responded. you did try to choose your words carefully but your mouth moves faster than your thoughts.

“and if i did?” you’re lying through your teeth, but he takes the bait.

that was what unlocked his vile mouth that should be censored on television after losing a match. “you really are annoying, you know that? i hope you didn’t because i didn’t know that either when i started liking you. or were you just leading me on? i don’t care if you aren’t staying anymore. just fucking leave.” he’s lacing his words with cyanide.

he’s second guessing his thoughts of wanting you to stay forever if you were just going to be acting like that. his grip on you is finally loosening and it’s easier to slide right past his arms. you take the chance and peak at his face. it wasn’t the look you want to see on him normally but it is justified in this situation. he has a scowl on his face but he still looks so pretty like this. he’s looking at you too, albeit not with the admiration you’re doing.

it isn’t the best idea to stay silent and so you don’t.

“fine then.” you say while walking away from him to head towards the entrance and like expected, he doesn’t follow you. you take the bag from the front-door rack and slip on the shoes he gifted you.

you spare no time opening the door, not even glancing back when you shut the door as well. kaiser is the one looking, glaring at the back of your head before you disappear behind his door. after he knows you’re off completely, he goes over to lock it shut but also ends up smelling the slight scent of your perfume floating in the air.

looks like you won’t be staying tonight anymore. and now that this happened, will you ever? did he want you to?

this argument could have been so minor if both of you had just sucked it up.

were you still together? it didn’t end in clear closure, just him telling you to leave and you did.

did you still want this? did he still want this?

in all honesty, he just wants you. no matter what form, no matter what, he still wants to say he knows you. it didn’t have to be this way.

safe to say neither of you had good sleep that night.

kaiser has many ways to express his aggression. be it words, physical contact (past), or what he’s doing right now—football. he hasn’t contacted you ever since that day and you haven’t either. makes him question what he still is to you.

why does he care? if you don’t want to talk to him, neither do you. if you hate him, he hates you.

however, whenever he does take his anger out of the field, he dominates it. effectively becoming the king of the field. from the get-go it was obvious bastard munchen would win the match against some other team they were playing against.

you could tell too, setting aside the fact you were sitting pretty far from the game. what made you want to watch the match even if you thought he was probably your ex already? you didn’t know. it’s like you just gravitate towards the stupid rat tails man, he’s an annoying magnet to you now.

and like everyone betted on, bastard munchen did win.

the team immediately celebrates by huddling together, slapping each-others hands, carrying each-other, and what not? you unconsciously smile at the scene, it was small, you could still feel it but you couldn’t help it.

kaiser is celebrating with his team, being somehow lifted on-top of ness’ shoulders (which he is really annoyed at and he’s wondering how the fuck he’s doing that, what is wrong with him?). he ultimately scored the last goal they needed to win. it wasn’t a surprise because when he plays, he wants to—needs to—win.

despite that, his teammates couldn’t help but realize his anger, leading to yoichi asking him a question that makes kaiser want to choke the black-haired man on the spot.

“the hell was that?” he asks (referring the stupidly impossible goal kaiser was able to score, but you know… he doesn’t believe anything is impossible.) “i have a question for you too, yoichi. what the hell is that kind of question?” he’s laughing out, still on ness’ shoulders. but he’s laughing so hard his whole body starts to shake, making ness stumble a little.

still, yoichi was able to tell something was off.

“uh… what’s gotten your panties in a twist?”

but before kaiser could answer that with going off on him, he’s being pulled into an interview.

what made that goal possible?

“it was never impossible.”

what do you feel after winning?

“as if we weren’t going to win.”

boring questions he didn’t want to answer but he was obligated to—for he was basically the star of the show, like always. that was until a certain question was asked that made him look around the stadium for the first time.

that was quite an impressive goal.

“of course.”

is there anyone you wanted to watch that shot?

he’s silent. he’s thinking of you as he gazes around the bleachers—embarrassingly thinking everyone has your face and accidentally making eye contact with crazy fans that go berserk when he does. the only reason he never looked before and during the match was because you wouldn’t be there.

what a desperate reason, right? row after row, he’s scanning every seat, even the ones that are empty and imagining you’re the one sitting in it. 3rd to the top row, he scanning and not expecting to see you.

the fuck? is that you?

is he looking at you? kaiser is looking in your direction and in the area you’re seated but you’re so high up you can’t tell and it’s very unlikely he is but he keeps staring. you’re awkwardly looking away and around your section to hide your face.

oh but he’s already gotten a look of the face he so desperately wanted to see and he’s not going to look away, nor will he stand in one place. like a lunatic who just escaped some mental hospital, he’s booking it from the interviewer who stands shocked.

oh ok... he totally saw you which defeats the total point of you sitting so far away, was he lying to you when he said his eyesight wasn’t the best? probably. anyway, that was your sign to also walk away.

screams of fans were deafening and you felt like your eardrums were going to burst anyway.

who cursed you? because it was such a coincidence that kaiser comes out the way you were going to exit. he didn’t count how many fans who were asking all sorts of things he ran past to get to you.

as soon as you saw his face, you tried playing it off cool and spun the other way to walk away but he was by no means dumb and he saw you do that. he clicked his tongue in annoyance.

it felt like when you ask your friends to chase you and they actually do and now you’re screaming your lungs out trying to outrun them. obviously it was futile because he was so much faster than you.

no words could explain how fucking loud the crowd was, first when he ran, second when he entered the spectator area, last (hopefully) when he hugged you tightly from behind, stopping you from running.

like that night, he was warmer than you’d like him to be. arms wrapped around your waist and his chin on your shoulder. “are you running away again?” he’s whispering into your ear and despite the crowd + the booming voices around you… ++ the paparazzi basically stomping on people to get a photo, he’s unbelievably close to your ear, you have no trouble in hearing him.

“kaiser.” you breathe out in the same shock the interviewer was probably in. “don’t call me that. answer my question.” he huffs—he hasn’t heard you call him that in for like… forever! (unless you count other arguments)

“should i want to run away?”

“i don’t want you to.”

the grip is getting tighter and it slightly stops you from breathing for a second. you don’t want to run away, you don’t hate him.

you were thinking the same as him, whether or whether not he still considered you his. but you know his ego is way too high for his own good so you do him a favor and ask him instead.

“are we still something?” you ask and it hurts him that you do—did you not think that anymore? his eye is twitching with uncertain emotions. “…tell me your answer first.” there’s hurt evident in his voice because he doesn’t want to jump into conclusions and hurt his ego even more than he already has fighting for his way to get to you.

“i don’t know, are we?” he’d flick your forehead with full power if he wasn’t trying to make up with you. it’s barely audible but you hear “i still want this.” a frown is on your face and he took it as a bad sign.

“i do too, micha.” you admit, he’s spiraling by how you say his name.

as much as he wants to say that he did want you to stay with him forever, that he didn’t want you to leave him, that he doesn’t actually find you annoying, that he loves you. he decides on doing only the second and last option because he’s kept himself, you, and the fans waiting far too long.

(you also wanted to say you didn’t mean it.)

he’s spinning you around to face him.

“don’t leave me, ever.”

he holds your hands in his, leaning forward to kiss you.

and though you guys still have so much to apologize, discuss, and everything in between… you both would rather leave that for a private matter. just stay in this moment, in his arms for now? if not forever.

oh and now you hoped this was the last time the crowd got as rowdy as it was.

GERMAN FOOTBALL PRODIGY; MICHAEL KAISER AND HIS SUPPOSED PARTNER MAKE IT PUBLIC! WHO IS THE LUCKY PERSON? EVERYTHING WE KNOW RIGHT NOW…

locknessmonster : bro wtf

[winksasleeplesseye]

SUMMARY: Leon drifts deeper into a dream of perfect moments, struggling to separate longing from reality as everything he feels is watched closely.

PAIRING: Leon Kennedy x F!Reader

WARNINGS: angst, intense emotions, dub con/noncon voyeurism

[MASTERLIST][PREVIOUS]

Leon drifted off, just like he had been every other night for the past few weeks. The hazy realm between sleep and awake beckoned to him so easily. He barely put up much of a fight rather letting it guide him than him actually protesting sleep.

No longer when he reached for the other side of the bed did he find a bitter cold. He found the warmth of your hand in his, fingers steady and pressure just the same. His heart raced, rhythm too fast, too sharp, like a drum out of sync with reality. Kind of like the one he just abandoned for this.

But nothing compared to this. Nothing.

Leon knew his heart was a place filled with regrets and unrelenting, unfulfilled desires. Not to mention, the now ever-present sharp, aching hole where you should've been. Every time he woke up he tried to convince himself to stop this, stop chasing ghosts…yet, here he was, every night. Every touch, every word shared with you felt like a desperate echo of what he couldn't have. What he couldn't reach in his waking life.

He'd tried to capture it. A way to cope with what he was experiencing in his head but more tangible, something he could touch. They were small, fleeting distractions. Women who vaguely resembled you in some way—-maybe their eyes, the curve of their lips, or the warmth of their skin. But it never compared. Didn't feel like enough. But for a brief,—very, very brief moment, it made this newfound ache that sat like a rock in his chest go away. It made the visions of you, the dreams, the memories—whatever they were…go away so he could breathe again.

It made him feel like himself before all this, the man who learned to hide it all, push his feelings aside and put on the mask of a man who was okay on the surface. But who was he kidding? This is exactly what it is. A game. A distraction.

They didn't matter. Because they weren't you.

Nameless, faceless women with empty words and empty touches.

He stared blankly to the ceiling as he sat at the kitchen table, a bottle of whiskey half-empty beside him. A lovely habit he picked up during training. It only granted him temporary respite. A harsh, flicking neon light casts a dull, sickly glow on the room. His eyes wandered down to the glass in front of him, maybe if he stared into the bottom of it hard enough, he'd find something there.

Some of the previous nights, where he didn't want to fall victim to the hold of sleep so quickly lingered in his mind. Nights he'd wish he could forget, the faint touches of skin, laughter in his ears. None of them you. They were someone else.

His mind had wandered, back to you—the vivid, soul-piercing moments that felt more real than anything in his real life. The way you'd touched him, your hands soft as they ran through his hair, the gentle way you kissed him. Everything about you had been seared into him like a brand, burning him with its intensity that left him wanting more.

But it's not real. He knew it. He knew she wasn't real.

Leon shook his head, a frustration building in him that threatened to drive him to the brink of insanity. The solace of temporary pleasure only made him more desperate, left him hollow.

"What the fuck am I doing?" He muttered to himself, pacing around the dimly lit kitchen.

He should find you…the real you. He knew it was stupid to even think the government would let him do that. It was hard enough to see Sherry, what made him think they'd let him see you? Fear and uncertainty plagued him at every point—haunting thoughts that'd he already lost you—-kept him from taking that step.

So, here he was. Chasing a ghost, a vision, an illusion….a memory.

Leon closed his eyes, lulled by the sound of the TV to sleep. This time, it wasn't to forget, but to remember. He replayed the dream—the way you looked at him, held him, kissed him as though nothing else mattered. He longed for that pathetically. He longed for you desperately.

"I’m here,” you whispered, your voice softer now, like the wind itself was stealing your words.

His grip tightened, desperation welling in his chest. “Don’t go.”

Your face blurred. His pulse slowed, the warmth of your hand grew cold. He blinked, but the image of you faded, dissolving into a swirl of colors. A buzzing sound filled the space where your laughter had been.

In a sterile room far from where he sat sleeping, a monitor beeped in rhythm with Leon’s brainwaves.

“NeuroSync is holding,” a voice said calmly, devoid of emotion. A shadowed figure leaned closer to the glowing screen, eyes scanning the peaks and troughs of neural signals dancing across the display.

Splashed across different screens, Leon's apartment sat in clear view of the scientists. But the main one that they focused their attention was Leon as he lay in his bed. Every twitch, every breath, everything laid bare for their viewing pleasure. And they weren't just hearing Leon's contentment, they were seeing it.

“Subject Kennedy’s engagement has deepened. Increased attachment to the fabricated stimuli.” Another figure adjusted the feed, altering the algorithm that controlled the dream sequence. “Introduce another stimulus. Let’s push his emotional capacity further.”

A panel lit up, showing the projection of Leon’s subconscious—a simulated reality crafted from fragments of his memories, designed to feel more real than life itself. Each sensation, each longing kiss, meticulously coded.

Medical records, photos, reports all laid out on a nearby table. You, their subject of interest, in every detail of your life all cleanly noted across this table. Alongside Leon's information, no detail left to chance.

How had they managed this? Managed to get the government's top asset wrapped up in this? Oh, they'd hold that close to their chest. They couldn't let anyone else take the credit.

Still, they had to admit….Mr. Kennedy was a fascinating subject.

Most of Umbrella's enemies were just that…enemies. Nameless opposition to their main objective. But soon they became names, faces, people. People like Leon Kennedy. Chris Redfield. Jill Valentine. Many more to count.

Who forced them into the shadows. In hindsight, this was only fair.

Dr. Erickson, Dr. Morales, and an assistant Thompson huddled close together, speaking in hushed tones as their eyes scanned the screens.

"What exactly is the purpose of this? Mr. Kennedy seems to almost be…enjoying the dream presented to him," Dr. Morales pointed out just as Leon, within his dream, pulled you closer to whisper in your ear. His heart rate spiked, brain activity lighting up like a Christmas tree from just a small, intimate act. Quiet moments interlaced with sweet, tender, and increasingly passionate in nature.

"Is that such a bad thing?" Thompson asked, clearly puzzled. "I mean, he’s still vulnerable to the program’s control, right? He’s still part of the experiment. He’s just... well, living in a distorted version of reality." Both the scientists seemed to disregard the assistant's words.

"It's only been a few days and he's—he's fully immersed already. And we haven't even introduced any other aspects to this…dream," Dr. Erickson, the head scientist, explained. His face scrunched in confusion as they stared at the man on their screen. A man completely unaware of anything beyond the realm of this dream. A happy man. For Leon, it was only….you. "Let's get some more info on this Y/N," he instructed.

Leon had become addicted—for lack of a better term. Well, no, that was the best term.

His eyes would glaze over at his desk, the words of his computer screen blurring together to create their own mishmash of words. Yet, he was nothing if not professional with his work.

The waking world had become more dull than he could ever recall it being. Colors muted and lifeless. His mind already seeking ways to disconnect from this world—the missions, the government orders, the endless cycle from disaster to disaster. Despite his best efforts to put on the usual front of nonchalance, he could never escape Hunnigan's watchful eye.

He stood at the coffee machine, hoping a cup of coffee would rouse him back into the paperwork he had left to finish. Still, his mind still gave him brief visions—moments—that kept from completely being tethered to this reality. He saw you in almost crystal clear clarity leaning against the counter, a teasing smile painted on your lips, "You still drink that burnt shit?"

He glanced down at the cup of black coffee, and just before he almost slipped to answer you like you were really there. Hunnigan tapped him on his shoulder.

"Everything good, Kennedy?" She asked, curiosity in her expression. "Looks like you're trying to find all the world's answers in that cup."

Shit. He's more obvious than he thought. Get it together, Kennedy.

Leon gave her a small smile, the corner of his mouth barely moving. "Just tired. The usual."

"The usual?" Hunnigan raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "The usual for you doesn't usually involve getting coffee at…" she looked at her watch,"…at three in the afternoon. What's bothering you?"

Jesus Christ, he can't hide anything from this woman. Did he want to tell her? Hunnigan had experienced quite the ordeal with him from Spain and he certainly trusted her more than any other handlers in this place. But, still, he didn't have to tell her. This was his cross to bear, so to speak. In many ways, he was a modern man but on this, his old-fashioned father came to mind, "It's impolite to burden people with your problems."

"It's nothing, really. Just had an off night is all," His voice dipped, lower and quieter, hoping that would stop her questioning for now.

Hunnigan nodded in understanding, "Alright, fair enough. I'll let you get back to your coffee then."

Leon watched as she left, a sinking feeling in his gut that this wasn't over. Now all he'd managed to do is pique Hunnigan's never-ending curiosity. Great.

For once, Leon was glad when the work day was over. And even better, the weekend was coming up. Two whole days where no one would give a rat's ass what he'd be doing, except now probably Hunnigan.

He pulled on his jacket, not looking back to his office for even a moment longer than he needed. Tonight, Leon decided to grab some takeout. The cold as he walked to his usual spot was piercing his skin like needles but he pushed through.

Upon entering the diner, he was greeted with mixing scents of stale coffee, grilled onions, and hot grease. A few people sat in the booths, keeping to themselves. A family with their young child, enjoying a plate of fries and shakes. A woman reading a book over some coffee. A couple huddled close together, sharing a meal, shared laughter, shared glances of affection.

Leon could see it all from the booth as he waited for his takeout. For some reason, he couldn't take his eyes away from the couple, the lingering gazes and gentle touches. All so…easy.

For a moment, he saw the both of you instead. Leon huddling close to whisper something in your ear to make you laugh, seeing it so vividly and hearing your laugh—warm, comforting—as you placed your hand in his. It had to be insanity because he could even feel the pressure of your hand in his.

The dinging of the bell took him out of it. His food was ready. He quickly thanked the waitress as he made his way to leave. The couple still completely wrapped up in one another with no idea that Leon had stared so intensely.

A sense of yearning gripped at his chest like a vice.

He entered the same dreary apartment, tossing down his keys and hanging up his jacket. He wasn't too quick to touch the takeout. Instead, he did what he'd been doing the last few nights, watching TV.

His phone lit up, vibrating on the coffee table where it laid.

Chris Redfield.

He ignored it.

Usually, Leon would be happy to go meet Chris for a beer and catch up on how life had been treating them, but right now? Leon didn't want any time away from the sleep he knew was coming, where he could be with you. He knew he should probably at least tell the idiot he's alive but even that was a chore right now.

So, he watched the screen light up one more time before it stopped.

Chris will just have to understand.

In his dream, Leon was once again with you, the two of you sharing a quiet moment in the soft glow of the evening light. Spilling through the curtains in their shared apartment.

An euphoria washed over him, an intoxicating haze that could've lasted forever.

He again watched you as you guided him to cook a new recipe, scents of garlic and fresh herbs hanging in the air as you moved gracefully through the space. He had never been much of a cook before, but with you, it was easy. Your presence made everything feel effortless—your hands guiding his as he chopped vegetables.

Your laughter filled the spaces between their movements.

The soft crackle of an old vinyl played in the background, a tune from the '70s that was vaguely familiar to him. It only added to the atmosphere making it nostalgic and intimate. The melody wrapped around him like a warm hug, a cocoon of warmth and comfort.

You turned to him, eyes filled with mischief. "You sure you can handle this?" You teased, voice playful yet tender.

Leon chuckled, warm and full of affection. "Well, a fire hasn't started yet, so that's always a good sign, right?" He asked, giving you a lopsided grin.

You smiled back, still holding a familiar glint of love and tenderness in your eyes, and for a moment, nothing outside this kitchen existed. Just them, together in this near perfect, domestic bliss.

As you reached over to stir the pot on the stove, Leon couldn't help noticing how your hair fell softly over your shoulder, the way the light coming from above the stove made your skin glow like nothing else. He moved closer, hands running down your arms in a gentle motion. You don't pull away, instead locking eyes with him and still offering that soft smile.

Leon, not wanting a moment like this to pass, took your hand in his, pulling you gently into him. The sensation was intoxicating—a rush, a high that was exhilarating and equal parts comforting. He couldn't help but to breathe you in, the beat of your heart syncing with his.

"Take a break?" He asked, voice barely a whisper.

You raised an eyebrow, still holding that playful twinkle in your eyes. "Now you're just trying to get out of cooking," you teased but you didn't stop him as he led you across the room.

As you both swayed gently, moving in rhythm to the music, the press of you against was enough to make him feel dizzy. The heat of your skin and softness of your breath as you laid your cheek against his chest.

All of his senses for the briefest moment told him this was real…you're real. No longer held back by the world of impossibilities.

He pulled back slightly, looking at you and just savoring you. He had so much he wanted to say but all it was incondite—inadequate and not all encompassing of how he felt. But as always, you'd say the same thing, from your perspective, Leon had never acted so strangely in your shared space.

Your eyes are soft, almost knowing. "You are being so strange, Leon." Your hand rested on his chest, he'd hoped you feel the beat of his heart underneath.

Instead of words, he leaned in, pressing his lips softly against yours. Kiss slow and tender as he tasted you, the sweetness, the warmth. Lost in you.

He pulled away, pressing a brief kiss to your forehead and responded with a chuckle, "I don't care. I don't care if I'm being strange, I just want this. You."

Your fingers traced his jaw, smiling. "Well, lucky for you, you've got the real thing right in front of you," you said with a wink.

The bliss, pure unadulterated bliss of it all was fleeting just as it had been every other day. The truth seeped in quicker than he expected this time. This is not real. She wasn't here. This place wasn't theirs.

Still, Leon held onto it for as long as he could, unwilling to let go of the dream—if only a few more moments despite the edges of reality caving into this one.

[jaggedamethyst]

circuit breaker 🔬🌌 (part three)

tutor!jayce talis x reader college au

content: adding tutoring to an already packed schedule has gotten overwhelming. there's so much to do, yet not enough time, it seems.

pining (but im not saying who lmaooo), mentions of mental health (panic attacks, anxiety, etc).

notes: hiii. i am addicted to writing for this i fear so don't be surprised if i just keep updating randomly. i've also just started school so this is all in my free time!! but chat...its about to get good af *smiles mischievously*

word count: 1.2k

series masterlist

⭑·ﾟﾟ·*:༅。.。༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅。.。༅:*·ﾟﾟ·⭑

You didn’t enjoy this, scrambling for the countless time today to make a meeting. Even more so, you hated the idea of being late to see Ekko, again. He was always so empathetic—understanding. Even if he was upset with you, and you knew he was, he would never make you feel bad about it. He understood things happened. 

It didn’t stop you from speeding into the dining hall and turning to your usual table in a complete frenzy, though. “Ekko, I am so sorry. Time literally got away from me today.” 

He grips a chain he’d been holding, a locket at the top, and pushed it back into his pocket quickly. “It has a way of doing that…time I mean.” 

You sat down, immediately feeling way worse than you already had. “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be, I’m sure you had a reason, right?” 

“Yes,” you sighed. “I was at tutoring with Jayce. We went over vectors and I finally understand it better.” 

His eyes lingered on the table, “Mm.” A hum from him, seemingly half paying attention. 

“Mm?” You mimicked the sound he made, “What’s mm?” 

“It’s just that I definitely could’ve helped you with that…being a STEM major and all…” 

“I know that…of course I know that but-“ 

He cracked a smile, “I’m joking.” 

You couldn’t help the smile on your face, the lightheartedness finally returning to you both. “I hate you, truly.” 

“You don’t…and that’s okay! I’m extremely lovable.” 

You nodded sarcastically, “Sure, I’ll let you keep believing that.” You looked around, finally taking in how desolate the dining hall actually was. It was a bit after peak hours now, considering you showed up a bit later than normal. A yawn escaped you, then, the day catching up to you. 

Ekko perked up a bit, “You hungry?” 

You tilted your head, “Always.” 

He turned to grab a paper bag from inside his backpack—pushing it across the table to you. Your order down to the sauces, no tomatoes, extra pickles. 

“Oh my gosh, I love you so much Ekko…you’re actually the best.” 

He watched you inspect the bag, each little detail perfect. There was a glint in your eye; it was rather humorous that it was about food, but he appreciated it nonetheless. 

You weren’t looking at him, but he was locked in on you. A genuine and soft look was on his face. “I love you…too.” 

The fries you were eating fully occupied your mind and nothing besides the comfort of your bed could get your mind off of them. Ekko didn’t say much after, letting you eat in silence before offering to walk you back to your place. The sounds of the busy city filled the space between you, him occasionally ushering you ahead with a soft nudge. Neither of you spoke until you were outside your door. 

You leaned in for a hug, “Thank you…I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

“Yup.” He hugged you back, leaning his head into yours, inhaling deeply. “Tomorrow.” 

“On time,” You pulled away, “I promise.” 

His hands found his pockets, nodding simply. “On time.” 

Exhaustion was creeping up on you. At this point, you had class most days of the week, Ekko meetings daily, and tutoring at least twice a week. On top of all of this, you desperately needed a job. Even with the hours that passed and the rest you got, the looming feeling of doom was making you feel anxious. There was a bubbling thought in you that in a few days time, you might genuinely have a panic attack. The signs were there, a fleeting feeling of irritation—the need to constantly be doing something. If you didn’t you’d be left alone with your thoughts and that never worked out well. 

The next day's hours squished themselves together. Despite the feeling, you plastered on a smile and made your way to do everything you had to. You couldn’t chance anyone, especially Ekko, knowing that you weren’t feeling the best. Yet, the emotion often found you in silent cries. You took the long way to tutoring, walking on side roads you knew never had many people on them. In one ear, you let music play, sinking into the emotion as best you could with the consistent sounds of the world around you. It was best you cry now, you thought. You had to focus during tutoring. 

You didn’t sob, but rather let the tears run freely. The cool sensation helped usually—a way for you to identify that you were present in the moment…in your body. You let your legs carry you to the resource center eventually, mindlessly walking toward the room Jayce had reserved. Truthfully, you were glad to see he wasn’t here yet. 

You got comfortable, wiping your face free of the proof of your small breakdown. You straightened at the sound of footsteps approaching the door. 

“Hey,” Jayce backed into the room, a small bag in his hands. He slowly turned, closing the door behind him. You weren’t looking his way, purposely avoiding his gaze—hiding your reddened eyes. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m good,” a sniffle, “Just had a hard day…lot on my plate.” 

He nodded, sitting across from you. “Well…I guess it’s good I made sure to bring some encouragement then.” You finally looked at him. His face contorted briefly at the sight of you before handing you the bag he walked in with. “Here…this should help.” 

Confused, you reached for the bag. “But-“ 

“I asked Viktor,” he interrupted, “He said you would like some of these.” 

“You really didn’t have to, I was just joking-“ 

“I wanted to,” he spoke quickly before pausing. He looked at you, swallowing the already lessening amount of moisture in his mouth. He needed some water. “Besides, the store was on the way here.” He cut himself off, gulping some of the water from his bottle. 

You didn’t speak, just looking at your favorite snacks in the bag. The gesture was a lot to take in, but it was appreciated.

“Can I say something?” 

You nodded, “Of course.” 

“I kind of relate to you…what you said about school. I have a scholarship, too.” 

“You do?” 

“Yup. It’s just me and my mom and we can’t really afford it.” He repositioned in his chair, “I worked really hard before this…for years to make sure I could get a full ride. I couldn’t stand the thought of putting that burden on my mom. But, when I got here, it was like the burden was on me now, to not fail…you know?” 

“Right…” 

“I don’t want you to feel…you shouldn’t feel like it’s all impossible.” He didn’t acknowledge the way you started to cry a little—he thought better of it and you thanked him internally. Instead, he reached for a paper towel. “Sorry, this is all we have…with the white boards…” 

“Thank you,” you chuckled a bit. 

“So…are you gonna eat any of those or can I have it back.” 

“I might be willing to share.” 

Jayce rubbed his hands together, “That’s what I like to hear!” 

The session was great, as usual. You were feeling even more comfortable—confident enough to take the next physics quiz. 

More importantly, you made it just in time to see Ekko’s look of surprise when you got there before him. 

“On time?” 

“On time.” 

taglist

@juskonutoh @sseleniaa @aerina127 @sleepysoldier @bxxerry

[yinora-evergreen]

Hiii could i request some headcanons about reader being Dean and Sam's sibling who's coming out as a lesbian???? :3

pairing: platonic!sibling!Dean Winchester x fem!Winchester!reader, platonic!sibling!Sam Winchester x fem!Winchester!reader

warning: coming out, reader is stressed, the closet might have a glass wall, Sam kinda already knows bc he's smart, Dean being oblivious, mentions of John, headcanon style, mentions of reader wearing lipgloss/lipstick, Winchester genes aka reader has similarities to the brothers, spoilers for season 7, minor spoilers for season 8, Dean is bi, idk if i mentioned it but i headcanon that Sam is pan though i left that up to your own interpertation, kinda feel like this is shitty writing bc idek

a/n: i am SO sorry that it took me litterly forever to get this done, i've suffered of writers block and i think i finally got over it. i personally love this request! i loved writing these and lmk if you'd like an actual imagine written too, and if so, should it be more serious or maybe a little more funny/crack/casual?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

let's say you've had secret girlfriends growing up, hiding it with the title "close friends" whenever John or your brothers asked about it, and it worked most of the time.

Your dad simply didn't really bother checking, simply strictly reminding you that hunters can't get too close with people.

In your teenage years, you observed Dean to kind of learn how to talk to other girls if you wanted to flirt with them, and Dean being who he is, was always oblivious to it, telling you how he got girls to makeout with him in janitor's clossets without hesitation and with a smug smirk on his face whenever you asked.

Sam however, did certainly notice when you'd be in class a little too late, hair a little more messy than it was from a girl's hands gripping onto it and lipgloss a little smudgede.

He didn't bother asking about it though, he knew you'd cover it up with some excuse such as that it was windy outside when you went there during break or that you didn't realize and that you must've accidently smudged your lipgloss when wiping something off your face, and at first he thought it was from kissing boys anyway.

later on when you three were hunting together again, after you and Dean had gotten Sam from Stanford, on a case, Sam had noticed a look on your face when you were questioning the victim's sister. a look he's seen plenty times before, on Dean's face, when he was looking at women in bars.

and in his mind, something just clicked.

Sam never mentioned it though, he wanted to let you take your time, if you ever decided to come out to them, he wanted you to have that part of your life in your control.

Dean however, was as dense as a brick wall with extra isolation and a thick layer of paint and wallpaper.

he would blatantly mention how good the waitress' ass looked in those jeans, and you'd agree, and he wouldn't bat an eye to it, he'd just give you a cheeky grin and Sam would roll his eyes in response.

eventually, later on, you three met Charlie!

When you first met her, you two got along amazingly, as if you have been friends for ages, rather than the fact that you met a day before.

When she agreed to help out with hacking into Dick Roman's computer, and she had that earpiece in, and she blatantly told you and your brothers that she liked girls and couldn't possibly flirt with that security guard, you closely watched your brothers' reactions.

it both comforted you and made your insides twist when you saw that they quite litterly didn't really care. should you come out to them?

even later than that, you desided that finally, you'd come out to Sam and Dean.

you had spent nearly all morning in your room in the bunker, pacing around and thinking through how you were gonna tell them.

when you finally did come out of your room, both Sam and Dean were sitting at the table, and when Sam saw the look on your face he instantly went worried brother mode.

"Are you okay? what's wrong?"

that makes Dean look up immediately.

"Nothing- Nothing, just, i need to tell you guys something..."

Dean closes the laptop, both of them turn their attention to you fully, worried but staying quiet for your sake.

"i uh... i've been walking around with this for a while, and I... well, I'm a lesbian, I like women and only women, and I hope you are okay with that"

most of the worry in the pit of your stomach dissappears when you can see the relief on both their faces.

"Damn, [name], don't scare us like that again" "Dean." "what? I thought she was gonna come out and say she's engaged to some guy or got bitten by a werewolf or something!"

Sam definetly scolds Dean silently.

"It's alright, [name], you're still our sibling, still our baby sister, nothing's gonna change that." Sam reassures you with those puppy eyes of his and that soft spoken tone.

"yeah, well... while we're at it, I swing both ways" Dean takes a swig of his coffee right after he says that, and you're worries dissappear.

"thanks, I don't know why i was so worried, i mean, we fight monsters every other day, i don't know why i thought being gay would sepperate me from you two" you answer with a light laugh, definetly relieved.

"yeah, i uh, know how that feels" Sam answers a little more quietly.

"well, anyway, i'm making burgers for dinner, you gonna join me for a food run?" Dean mentions as he gets up.

"yeah, sure" you answer and get your jacket.

you really can't ask for better brothers.

[uhohdad]

konig and plucky iconic in pink

rushed to get this done after the last chapter

⌜ KONIG X READER HUNGER GAMES AU ⌟

holy sHI

[sysig]

@vernors tags are so incredibly correct (Patreon)

[nieloxychen]

not to have a moment in another posts tags so im venting in my own tags <3

[a-b-riddle]

Part Six

Can't stop thinking about reader finally giving the boys a taste of their own medicine. And hurting my own feelings in the process of it all. I wanted to make this a baddie reader chapter, but its just a saddie reader chapter. I played Down Bad by T.S on repeat while writing this. Y'all need to thank @blueladys-world for being my ventor for this part.

None of them came the next day to pick up the box of everything you had collected. By everything, quite literally everything. Birthday cards and gifts. Keepsakes from your time together they had given you. Even going as far as returning lingerie they had given you. You didn't want any trace of them in your home anymore. You were gonna have to work hard in rebuilding it to be your safe space once again.

You were surprised that someone from the expo had DM'd you. Renée was an author who had tried to stop by to your stand, but got too caught up in the day. She was in London, working on her next series installment and wanted to pick your brain. Writer to writer.

The two of you agreed on a time. She had mentioned wanting to try this restaurant the last time she visited and you already knew you would be putting that meal on a credit card. It was a bit of splurge, but after the past week you deserved it. You could even wear that sexy black number that had been collecting dust in your closet.

By the time you were done getting ready and squeezing into your dress, you looked more ready for a date than dinner with a colleague.

A colleague. You had a colleague!!!

The knock on the door pulled you from your girlish glee. You didn't need to guess who it was. Your friends knew to text you before they came over and Renée had agreed just to meet you at the restaurant.

It was one of them.

You didn't even t bother looking through your peephole before you opened the door to find Johnny standing there with a floral arrangement of your favorite flowers.

Johnny began to speak, afraid you were going to shut him down immediately no less. But no words came out. His eyes traveled up and down your body, taking you in.

A vision.

You wanted to snap at him that your eyes weren't located on your hips. But damn if it didn’t feel empowering seeing Johnny’s gaze gloss over.

"Fuck me." He swore, gathering his bearings before realizing you were dressed. In a sexy black dress and heels and makeup and oh, fuck you were going out. "Where are you going?"

"First off, none of your business," you said holding a finger up. "And secondly, what are you doing here?"

"Listen," "Bon-"

"The box is right there." You said pointing to a large cardboard box on the floor. "That's everything."

"If you just let me make it-"

"Up to me?" You cut him off again. "I'm over it. Really."

"Just give me a chance."

"Either you haven't spoken to the other two to know I am well and truly done with this situationship, or you’re hoping some half-ass apology and flowers will let you get a last fuck in and the skedaddle. So hopefully if it was latter, hopefully the former answered that for ya.”

So if that's all you came here for, I've got to get going. My reservation is at seven and it's rude to keep a friend waiting."

"It's been a week and you're already going on a date?" He accused.

"Who said anything about a date?" You didn't outright say it wasn't. Where would be the fun in that? “It's just dinner with a colleague.” You didn’t want to lie. It wasn’t a date. But you didn’t need to say it was a woman. “Hardly a date.”

“Look at the sight of ye!" He said, taking the opportunity to take a quick look at how deliciously your ass filled that dress. “A fookin’ dinner with a colleague. Like one of us would show up to a briefing like that.” You opened your compact. Not needed in the age of cellphones but loving the feminine touch.

There was something so... seductive about using a compact mirror to apply your lipstick.

“Kyle does have the legs for this dress.” You said, applying that lipstick he loves. That same shade that looked beautiful on your lips. The same lipstick you would mark all over Johnny’s body. “Believe what you want. Not my problem anymore.”

You put your compact back in your purse along with the lipstick in case you needed to reapply it after dinner.

Johnny's eyes zeroed in on your lips before his eyes met yours. That's when you felt it again. That undeniably spark of chemistry that you had with him. With all of them. That feeling that sucked the very breath from your lungs and for a moment all you could see was the man in front of you.

"Bonnie," he said placing his hands on your neck. His thumbs stroking your cheeks softly. "Just one more chance." He begged, his voice breaking. "I'm a fucking git, but I won't let you go again. I won't leave." You knew that when it came to promises, Johnny had proven that even if he didn't mean to break them, he had forgotten he made them in the first place.

But in that moment you didn't care. Even after everything, Meredith was right. You had loved them. Everything else had ended so shitty. John had blamed you. Kyle had only shown up until it was too late. And Simon. The last time you would ever hear his voice was after he said such cruel things to you.

No.

If you were done with Johnny, you won't let the last time he fucked you being a quick, rough fuck doggystyle before leaving you naked and alone in your bed.

No. The last time with Johnny needed to be good. It might make it harder to finally leave, but you needed this. You needed to know that he could still make love to you and not just fuck you like an animal in heat.

"Johnny?" You asked. Your mouth dangerously close to his. "I don't want you to fuck me."

"I don't have to," he said, starting to take a step back to give you some space before your hands reached his. Holding him in place.

He can't let you go. You couldn't let him go. Not yet. Just one more. You needed just one more time to get him out of your system. The closure you needed.

"Make love to me." You begged, your eyes pleading. "I need to know that I wasn't just something you wanted to fuck." You don't move as his eyes search yours, looking for reassurance. When you nod, his mouth softly touches your own.

His hands travel along your body, but never fully leave you. Sliding your neck to your back. Pulling your body closer to his. A hand placed on your hip so tightly he's afraid you might disappear.

There's no rush, no haste in his touch. His mouth not eager to devour you.

He's slow. With his hands, his tongue. Even when he picks you up and walks to your bedroom with your legs around his waist.

He doesn't throw you on the bed.

Not this time.

He lays you down. His body laying on top of yours. His hand skimming along your bare thighs, but not daring to travel any higher.

But damn you needed him. You wanted love making, but if he didn't get inside you soon, you weren't sure you could let him go after this. You weren't sure you would be able to leave.

"Johnny," you whimpered, pulling away from his mouth. "Please." You took his hand, putting it between your thigh. Aching for any friction.

He obeyed without hesitation. If you told him to get on his bark, he would in that moment. Anything to make you happy. Anything to keep you.

"Got to get you out of this dress first." He resting on his knees before he began to slide the black satin from your thighs to your stomach. You maneuvered, helping him undress you leaving you in nothing.

"I thought you liked the dress." You couldn't help, but tease. Your hand finding its home on the back of his neck, pulling you to him once more.

In a tone lacking any note of humor and in all seriousness, he looked at you. Really looking at you. Taking in how your smile reached your beautiful eyes before he said, "I want you bare to me when I take you."

You felt your stomach flutter at his words before he began to take off his clothes.

He joined you again. His body relaxing when they got between your legs again. His mouth traveled from your exposed neck to your nipples. Sucking and flicking them with his tongue until your back arched. Pressing harder into his mouth.

Your hands tangled in his soft brown hair before you boldly guided him to your already dripping core. He slid down your body before his hands began to push your knees apart until you were fully expose to him.

With your knees bent, Johnny settled on his stomach, placing soft kisses on your soft inner thighs. God, did he love seeing you squirm. He smiled at your tortured expression before looking down at your sex. "There she is." He said before placing a kiss on your pussy.

It wasn't sloppy. He wasn't diving in and licking at your center like so many times before. He was kissing it just as tenderly as he kissed your mouth. Slowly building it deeper and deeper. Adding tongue. Breaking away to readjust his head.

The delicious ache between your thighs began to become to unbearable. "Need you inside me." You panted. "Johnny-"

"Shhh." He soothed. "Got to warm you up first , Bonnie." He said before slipping his finger inside of you. One was all it took before your head settled against the pillows again. When your body relaxed, he added another. He would need to add three to make sure you were good and ready.

His digits stroked that spongy spot inside of you that made your toes curl. "You're barely fitting around my fingers." Johnny was a good 6 inches in length, but the girth is what always did you in. It hurt to take anything past his head into your mouth. If you fucked him without any preparation, especially after a week of no sex, he would tear you into too.

His tongue caressed your clit, your eyes squeezing shut as you felt your first orgasm creeping up on you.

"Johnny." You moaned, your fingers running through his soft brown hair.

"Give it to me, beauty." He panted. "Come on my face. Squeeze my fingers, Lass." He begged before his mouth went back to you.

It was like lightning. Your body now sensitive after being forsaken for so long. Your vision blurred and before you could process it, Johnny was sitting on his haunches between your legs, stroking his cock.

You could only nod, dazed and barely keeping a grip onto the reality of what this was.

The end.

He leaned forward, his cock nestling against you. You knew this was going to be nothing compared to his fingers. "Tell me if I need to stop."

You smiled, mockingly. Reminding him, "Not our first time together, Johnny." just our last.

"You were wrapped tight around my fingers." He gave a half smile before kissing your forehead. The gesture like a knife twisting in your heart. "I just don't want to hurt you."

"I'm ready." You brought your legs around his waist again. Pulling him to you, your arms wrapping around his neck as your mouths meet.

He presses into you. The head of his cock sliding inside just one or two inches. You body contracting around him in a small spasm. He swallows your moan and lets you adjust. He pulls away before looking down where the two of you meet.

"I could die like this, Lass." He said, his breath coming out unsteady as he tries his best to control himself. So close to just burying himself inside of you to the fucking hilt. "Seeing you like this is this first thing I want to see when I make it to the other side." You let out a choked cry as he pushes deeper inside you. Another inch. And another. And another until you're taking all of him.

He slurs something that sound like "fuck", but you are in too much of a daze to care. You arch into him, trying to get closer.

His thrusts are slow and deep. His pubic bone brushing against your clit making you whine and squirm. Begging for more.

You're not sure how long he had fucked you like that.

You needed it to stop.

You couldn't handle it. The softness. His words.

I could die like this, Lass.

Your lip quivered as you told him you wanted to be on top. You needed a moment. A chance to create a bit of space before he shattered your world yet again.

He pulled out. His absence already making you ache for him again before he settled beside you.

You squatted above his cock. Your feet flat against the mattress as you grabbed his hardness and slipping it inside of you. The sound you let out was pornographic. A high pitched, soft moan slipping from your lips as he buried himself inside of you again.

You placed you hands on his chest. Using the leverage to ride him. Your arms serving as barrier for you to get your bearings.

You used his body just as he had used yours. Throwing your head back, you moved faster and faster. Readjusting so your hands went from his chest to his stomach, giving him a better view of your connecting bodies.

His hand slips between the two of you, thumb pressing against your clit, and you tighten even more around. A needy whimper coming out of your throat. The sound mixing in with the sounds of his labored breathing and slapping skin as he begins to fuck up into you.

Even though he had been doing all the work for the last several minutes, you felt the tension start to creep into your calf.

"Fuck fuck fuck." You screech, barely able to hold yourself up any longer. "Ow." You hissed as the cramp took hold.

"Leg cramp?" He asked, not even faltering in his thrusts. You pathetically nod before he takes it upon himself to flip you on your back again.

"I'm going to do this every chance I can." He promises, pressing a searing kiss onto your exposed neck. "Any chance you'll give me." You can't take it. His words, his mouth, his fucking cock. It's too much. "I'm going to show you how much I want you. How much I want to fucking worship ye. Do anything to make you feel good. Not going to leave you again like that, Bonnie."

You reach for him again, pull him into a searing kiss just to shut him up. You need him to shut up. You couldn't take his false promises. You wouldn't survive it. Couldn't.

"Shit." His thrusts quicken, his thumb returning to your swollen bud. Flicking it in a way he had crafted into an art. He buries his face into your neck and you know he's getting close.

You weren't too far behind.

He didn't want to come, not yet, but this was fully out of his control. It was pathetic. A week without sex and you had him nearly coming in the first ten minutes.

But that's what you want. To see him lost in the idea that you would stay.

"Johnny." You groan out. "Please. Cum inside me."

He draws fast, beautiful circles around your clit that immediately push you over the edge. You shut your eyes tight, squeezing him like a vice as you come in strong waves, continuing to push inside you.

in out in out in out.

Deliciously clenching around him tighter and tighter until he can't take it anymore.

"Fuck," he says again, and you see it in his face, and you see it in his face, the second it's all over for him. You want to sear the image in your head. Keep it there forever. Knowing you'll never see it again. The way those enchanting blue eyes squint nearly shut before closing in complete ecstacy.

His mouth would open. A moan caught in his throat that he isn't ready to let go.

His hand closes around your hip, holding you to him while he presses as far as he can go, and it's only then do you feel his cock twitch in quick, jerky movements. He moans out your name before taking your mouth into a searing kiss.

"I fucking love you." He says. "So fucking much."

He was still under the blanket when you returned from the bathroom. You picked up your clothes up from the floor. Looking at the clock realizing you had less than five minutes to get out the door before you would be late for dinner.

"What are you doing?" he asked. You couldn't look at him. Hearing the panic in his voice almost made you stop. Tell him it really was just dinner with a colleague. A woman. That you would be back. Beg him to wait until you came home.

"I can't cancel on the dinner." You said slipping your feet into your heels. "This was a mistake."

You weren't sure why you said it. You weren't sure if you were trying to convince him or yourself. If you wanted to hurt him or make him think you regretted it when you would truthfully do it again. You would do it again and again. You would never stop.

Like Johnny, you could have died in that moment, but for a completely different. Where he would be content, you would be saved from the pain. The pain currently coursing throughout your very soul.

"Lock the door behind you." You say as you practically sprint out the bedroom. Only slowing in your stride to snatch your purse off the kitchen counter before running out. The door slamming behind you.

The restaurant was nicer than you expected. The wine alone was the price of an entree. You didn't seem to be phased at all and were relieved when Renée insisted on picking up the bill.

Your dinner had been delicious and the conversation even better. Renée wrote fantasy romance and wanted to pick your brain about a Why Choose. You had nearly spent out the over priced wine you weren't even really enjoying. Oh the irony.

"It's like all the rage now, but it's hard to make more than one appealing as the love interest. You should have seen the Goodreads comments on my last book. So many people bitched about my FMC not ending up with a character who was quite literally her adopted brother."

"So," you took a breath trying to find the words. "I'm going to be honest. I only read your latest book and I loved Luka. But I can't compare him to other MMCs you've written about so I don't know if they are similar or different. But what I can say is that I'm seeing like this trend of MMCs where they are all this dark-haired, brooding or mysterious character who dislikes mostly everyone and is only soft for either a select few or only the FMC."

"I think if you are going to write a Why Choose you need to think of guys you wouldn't mind falling in love with." You couldn't help, but think of what drew you to your boys. "One could be the leader. Someone who isn't afraid to have his neck on the line. To make sure everyone else is taken care of and being strong enough to handle the stress of that. He would be big on words of affirmation. Lifting the FMC up. For me, it would be someone that I know will take care of business. He's confident in his decision. That confidence would extend to me." You clear your throat. "If I was the FMC, that is."

"Okay." She nodded, pulling out a pen and notepad. "You don't mind if I-"

"I don't write about polygamy." Crossed that bridge. Currently trying to burn it. "So feel free."

"Another could be the one who it's so easy to fall in love with their charm. The one who falls to his knees. Wanting to worship every inch of her. The one who makes her laugh. That one to make her forget about the sadness that creeps into her bones. The one to hold her whenever he could. He's about quality time and physical touch."

"So different love languages." She said, her pen quickly scribbling.

"Yeah." You said, leaning forward. "Then there is the gift giver." Your mind went to Gaz. Most of the gifts and trinkets in the box sitting by your door had came from him. He had gotten you new earbuds when yours broke. When you were being harassed at your gym, he had bought you and him a membership at a different one. "The one who would give her the world if she asked for it. If you're going with a high fantasy then maybe the one to take note of something at a market that the FMC had been eyeing and he bought it for her. Just someone who takes notice like that."

"So acts of service would fall with all of them then you think?"

No. Simon had been the one who probably spent the least amount of money on you. He didn't praise you like John. He didn't even try to attach himself at your hip like Johnny.

But if you needed something fixed, he would come fix it himself. He'd be damned letting a strange man into your apartment. And alone? Fucking forget about it. The one who hated any sort of cardio activity outside of fucking you, but didn't hesitate in attempting to keep up with you when you wanted to go on a run and get some fresh air. If you needed something done, he didn't pay someone else to do it. He did it. If you wanted to do something, he made it happen. He made you safe.

You couldn't bring yourself to say explain it. Your eyes begin to itch. Warning you to think of something else.

So instead you just told her yeah. That they would all commit acts of service. And even in your hypothetical explanation of characters that haven't even been written yet, Simon was still the ghost among them.

"Lucky fucking girl." Renée said setting down her pen.

"Yeah." You said, downing the rest of your wine.

You walked home. The cool crisp wind feeling like it was whipping your exposed skin. It was soothing as the ghost of Johnny's touch still seemed to burn you.

You had hoped that you would get some closure, but you just felt hollow. You came twice and still manage to leave unsatisfied. Johnny wasn't malicious... he was Johnny. He wasn't like the others. Simon would never apologize and John and Kyle wouldn't try to keep reaching out after you told them know once.

Johnny couldn't stand you being mad at him. He never could. He would beg and beg for your forgiveness. You didn't regret fucking him one last time. He needed to know that you were well and truly done. There was no going back from this.

"Hey, Love!" You were pulled from your thoughts at the sound of a voice coming from a source you couldn't see. You perked up, quickly scanning the dimly lit street before your eyes settled on a cluster of shadows just across the street. "Yeah." The slurring voice said again. "Talking to you gorgeous!"

You resumed your trek home. Now picking up your pace. "Don't be like that! Where ya off to?" The voice followed you. You kept your gaze straight. You were three minutes away. Three minutes and you would be at your building.

Three minutes.

Three minutes.

"What's the rush?" Another voice joined the cacophony. "Just want to have a chat."

You turned. They were maybe twenty feet away. You kept your eyes glued to them as your started to make a run for it.

You had made it about ten feet before your body collided with someone. Firm hands gripped your upper arms, steading you as you threatened to fall back.

You sucked in a breath of air, ready to scream when you looked up. It was too dark to make out the man's facial features. He was tall. His head eclipsing the street lamp just behind him. You shook beneath his hands. The voices behind you now silent.

"Keep walking." You didn't need to see his face. You knew that deep timber voice anywhere. He released you from his grip before letting you pass him.

"Just wanted to have a chat." You heard one of them try to reason. "No harm done."

"No harm done yet." Was the last thing you heard Simon say before you broke out into a full fledged run.

[6gumi]

“ inexperienced ” my ass !

⋆.˚ NSFW mdni . wc . 884 . multi-fandom men x f!reader 、AGED ! UP CHARACTERS ! 、 cunilingus 、maybe tit play ? ? am not suresies ! 、softies . . hehe 、messiest eaters eva . . x-x — 𝑹𝑼𝑩𝑰 : “ eeeek ! here is ‘anotha filler thirstie ( sad face ) am so sorrie i haven’t been able tew get my drafts in ! eeeek hope dis makes up for it . . hehe ( ´ - ` ) ! ”

“i’m not that experienced, baby . . . so don’t expect much.”

. . . such a liar he was. you knew your boyfriend was a liar . . . but you never knew he was this much of a liar! your lashes fluttered, mouth hung open at the feel of his wet tongue along your cunt. he peeled your clothes away, baring your body to him completely. the sight of you, naked and glistening with sweat, left him utterly breathless. he needed to see you writhe beneath him, to hear the sweet music of your passion. your boyfriend’s breath hitched, the temptation was almost too much for him to bear. his calloused hands reached up to take one of your breasts in his grip, giving it a gentle squeeze. a soft moan escaped your throat, your soft flesh filling his grasp. his other hand traveled up your waist, moving around to cup your other breast. his fingers teased your nipple, rubbing in a circle before flicking it lightly.

you could feel his gaze on you . . . his eyes darkened as he whispered against your breast, "let’s get your pussy all nice and wet." leaning forward, his lips planted smooth kisses along your midriff . . . trailing even lower than before. his tongue snaked out, swirling around your clothed pussy. “h—hey . . .” you murmured, the tips of your fingers digging against his scalp. he hiked your skirt up against your waist, revealing your ass to him completely, the lace of your panties was the only barrier between his mouth and the sweet nectar he craved. he slid his hand beneath the waistband of your undergarments . . . sliding the fabric down to your knees. “make sure to use your pretty mouth and tell me when to stop . . kay?” shit, he could feel himself growing hard at just the thought of getting his hands on your luscious body. “because . . i think i’ll be too focused on how much you taste to even stop myself.”

your boyfriend settles to his knees, his cock straining against his pants. he licks his lips, teasing the soft flesh of your pussy before diving in. his tongue darts inside, circling your clit once. twice. he moans, his voice muffled by your cunt. he’s loving every second already, feeling your warmth enveloping his tongue. the larger male slid two fingers inside, his thumb pressing against your bud . . . setting a steady rhythm, working them with skill. he’s tasting nothing but his beloved’s delicious flavor, and he’s enjoying every second of it. “you . . . ah!—said you were inexperienced . .” he gazed up at you, those sweet eyes of yours were going to send him to the moon . . while his were sharp; and serious . . . as if daring you to deny him, to tell him no more, to push him away. but he knows you wouldn’t want him to stop, no . . not one bit. "i am.” “th-then why—mmh! you’re a liar, a big fat liar !”

“mhm . . say whatever you want.“ he purrs, his voice filled with wanton desire and smugness. his wet muscle teased around your wet folds, tracing a path as he ate you out like a starved man . . the way he moved his tongue against you felt good, almost too good for someone who was “inexperienced”. blush covered your entire face . . indicating just how embarrassed you were. the way he licked and sucked at your cunt drove you crazy. your boyfriend gave you a soft hum, feeling your body react to the gentle touch, the muscles in your thighs clenching. “so sensitive," he whispered, his expression a mix of pride and amusement, a hand gently stroking the side of your face. "—yet such a good girl. you’re taking this quite well.” his lips curled up into a devious grin, the sight of his pretty girl being weakened by his ministrations was only fuelling his fire. he revelled in that power, enjoying the ability to make you quiver and squirm. "you still good, baby?" he asked, amused, his hands moving in tandem with his tongue. he hummed at your subtle nod, his fingers pinching your nipple from below with just the right amount of pressure to bring you to the edge but not send you over. just seeing your legs tremble so much . . . he already knew he was doing a good job, he could even feel the wetness coating his face, and he lapped it up hungrily, craving more.

"shit.." he cursed, though not out of frustration, “your pussy is driving me crazy." he whispered against your folds, the vibrations of his voice sending shivers through your entire body, it almost felt as if you were being electrocuted or something. “my darling girl with such a sweet pretty pussy . .” his tone was firm but filled with a promise of more pleasure to come; he wanted you to experience every inch of ecstasy he could give you. your boyfriend’s fingers slipped between your wet folds, desperate to get another reaction from you . . the constant sounds of slurping and sucking filled your ears, it almost felt wrong to listen to how well he was licking you up “such a liar . . . . hng. you were experienced all along!” his grin faltered for a moment as he heard the desperation in your voice, chuckling at your fucked-out expression. “you’ve got it all wrong,” he whispered, his voice rough. “i’m only learning . . . i’ll get better, ‘promise.”

— CHOSO KAMO 、MICHAEL KAISER 、 RENSUKE KUNIGAMI 、reo mikage 、ARGENTI 、kamisato ayato 、MIYA ATSUMU 、SUNA RINTARŌ 、sunday 、RAFAYEL 、YUKICHI FUKUZAWA 、chuuya nakahara 、TAKUMA INO 、wriothesley 、JING YUAN 、 CHIGIRI HYOMA .

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