#that's how I end up in situations which make me cry and feel like shit | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

theoldsports · 1 month

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SHITHEAD.

Art Donaldson x Reader.

warnings: a lot of them. 18+, slapping, begging, major angst, brat!Art, an argument with make up sex. Art is really manipulative because… he is a bit and we all know it. [Y/N] is very ill-tempered too. it’s dirty.

can be a part ii to SPONTANEOUS, or read as a standalone. this is my favorite piece of writing i have published on this account.

The bed was empty beside [Y/N]. She stared at Art’s empty side of the bed. The soft green sheets and mix-matched pillowcases went unoccupied. Not because he wasn’t home, but because [Y/N] hated Art so he had to sleep downstairs on the couch.

It wasn’t that she really hated Art. She did hate him right now. Not in a funny way. Their drive home had been silent. Poor Art didn’t know how to facilitate conversation that wouldn’t worsen the situation. His sorrowful eyes, but honest eyes kept glancing from the road to where [Y/N] sat in the passenger seat. The real showdown had started between them something awful when the door to their house slammed shut.

See, Art cried when he got mad. Or sad. Or profoundly excited. Their wedding photos were two-thirds Art crying and trying not to show that he was crying.

Art hadn’t cried tonight yet. That pissed [Y/N] off. She was furious and he seemed to feel absolutely zero discernible feelings about that.

They argued all the time. It rarely lasted all too long.

It was different this time. When [Y/N] started to say something cruel or shout or weep, Art got a little smaller, but he alarmingly stood his ground. He averted his gaze and said “I respectfully disagree,” or “What the fuck do you know about how I feel?” in a dangerously level tone.

Fighting with Art about this wasn’t fun. He was too cool about. He knew he was right. [Y/N] wanted to yell and scream because Art was so relaxed and condescending in his tone. When the man who had spent his teenage years getting referred at competition after competition as literally Ice tonelessly said: “Jesus Christ, aren’t you bored yet? What, going to over-explain the same information to me again, or…?” Finally, that had made [Y/N] drag herself to bed and yank the door closed violently enough that she felt the metallic vibration run all the way up to her shoulder.

And she was still laying there, staring at Art’s side of the bed.

At the Zweig’s party that night, there were a few hot topics in the Donaldsons’ sphere:

1) Lots of congratulations from people that had known them grow up, but hadn’t seen them since the wedding or prior.

This was mostly very kind. It dragged that smirk up Art’s face and caused his fingers to dig tighter into [Y/N]’s waist. That look of pride and tenderness on his face was more than welcome.

2) Lots of questions about Patrick. His lack of attendance was felt.

Both Donaldsons dodged these question as much as they could. Art kept an eye on [Y/N]’s liquor consumption. He knew how embarrassed she would be if she said something she regretted in front of Patrick’s family. Patrick had hurt them both, but Art’s heart went out to [Y/N]. Her world had been built around Patrick’s from a young age. Art was trying to engineer his own world higher around her so she wouldn’t be able to see the old place and people that had burned her over the walls.

3) “You’re married. When are we going to be seeing a little Donaldson running around?”

With Art keeping an eye on [Y/N]’s drinking, she hadn’t really been keeping an eye on him. She just assumed he would keep his shit together. Art drinking in public was never really a concern. He wasn’t a big drinker anyway. At this point, his career mattered more and he was approaching his mid-twenties which made him feel surely less young than he had once. He wasn’t a casual beer guy either. It was Patrick who liked beer and Art who would have a moledo or something sometimes. Art did like white girl drinks, though. Tequila and fruity stuff. He had been able to shoot shot after shot of vodka like a pro in college at a season-end celebration.

Art was a tight-lipped man, but he was a giggly drunk who he got pretty comfortable talking out of his ass from behind a glass with an umbrella in it. Art was rarely comfortable with anything, so a drink or two at a party was welcome to him.

Another important point of context is that the largest point of tension between Art and [Y/N] was starting a family. They desperately wanted a child together, but they disagree on when. [Y/N] felt like she was fresh out of college, so she figured they had plenty of time. Art felt that he was fresh out of college, so he figured they may as well get to it.

Their arguments about this were once semi-regular. In the last four months or so, Art timidly bowed out and hoped [Y/N] would tell him when she was ready (sooner rather than later). He got tired of the low-tier shouting matches. Instead, he would pick fights about things that were decidedly lower stakes when he was bored.

Art had let [Y/N] field comments about family planning throughout the night. Unfortunately, when Art was polishing off a second drink, he ran his mouth a little bit.

Knowing he was the designated driver that night, Art did go easy. Art was also, like, five pounds. While he could hold his liquor with grace, he always got giggly. He watched with heavy eyelids as [Y/N] walked away to collect another drink following the dinner portion of the evening. The paper placecards with their shared last name emblazoned on them rested comfortably in Art’s inner jacket pocket to be kept as a memory.

Some guy who sold boat insurance and liked to rub elbows with talent was talking Art’s ear off. Art couldn’t remember his name, but [Y/N] would know it.

This was the precise moment that got Art in trouble.

Because when the guy whose name Art was sure started with an R said: “So! You’re married. When are we going to be seeing a little Donaldson running around?”

Art said:

“Any day now, I hope. Tomorrow. I’m good to go. [Y/N] thinks now’s not a great time for her.”

He had said it with a smirk and a stupid little laugh. It was basically locker room talk. Big deal. He would’ve said it to Patrick with [Y/N] present in the room. This guy wasn’t Patrick and he was technically speaking behind her back.

Art had forgotten how close they were standing to the bar. He had forgotten that the frequency of his pitchy tenor was known to carry. He had forgotten that he was well known to be an instigator of fights even though he never actually threw the first punch. He had forgotten that he hadn’t been whispering. He had forgotten that this guy… Richy? Ronnie? was pretty much a stranger who had no business knowing their business.

Now, Art was sleeping on the couch and his side of the bed was empty.

Jackass.

[Y/N] stared still at the empty bed and didn’t know how to articulate her upset to an Art who had seemingly yet to feel ashamed.

She had a headache and was tired. But sleep wasn’t going to come easy and all she had to look forward to was a hangover.

Art didn’t really snore, but he was a heavy breather when he slept. The lack of his white noise made the A/C blowing and the stairs creaking too loud. Maybe all of this was on [Y/N] for making Art uncomfortable, she dared to think.

Then she reminded herself that it was Art’s fault for talking too much and for drinking when he knew he was supposed to drive home.

[Y/N] rolled over to face away from Art’s spot. All she could think about is how his hands always sleepily pawed at her to pull her back when she got too far away from him before he fell asleep.

“So, what’d you do?” Patrick asked.

“She hates me.” Art replied. It was almost a question.

“I asked what you did, not what she feels. She already told us what she feels and it’s that she hates you.” Patrick stated. When Patrick had stopped through town for a match, he had come by for dinner with, well, his best friends. This had been right after they’d gotten engaged.

Art sniffled. He didn’t want to cry in front of Patrick. Art would sooner cry in front of his own father. Both men would have laughed in his face, but it would have stung more from Patrick. “We got into a fight yesterday. A big one. Like, the first, uh, big one. She’s worried about the f—“

“The future? Please,” Patrick said bitterly. He frowned and his jaw tightened, but he combatted it by tossing Art a smile before the other man noticed the tension. “Stupid. You’re gonna marry her. You’ll play tennis. She’ll do her… columns? Articles. I don’t get what it is that she does—“

“She writes for—“

“Sure, yeah. You’re gonna have two kids so you can each pick a favorite one. And she’s gonna be a pain in your ass forever. Don’t be a pussy.”

Art sniffled again and stared at the floor. “I didn’t mean to do anything wrong. I didn’t think I did,” Art said meekly. “I don’t get it. She gets so mad sometimes. At me.” Patrick stared at him blankly. Art had to know that he was usually at least a little bit the problem.

“Did she do the thing where she calls you a—“

“Shithead bastard?”

“Shithead bastard.” Both boys said at the same time. Art dragged his hands through his hair and looked up at Patrick. Both of them quirked a smirk at the other.

“See,” Patrick started. “You’ll be fine. Fuckin’ go after her.”

“And say what!”

“Uh… ‘I’m sorry?’ You do that kinda shit. She’ll like that.”

It was impossible to know how long [Y/N] laid there. The clock was on Art’s side and she would get spitting mad if she rolled back over.

She could just go downstairs and tell Art to come back to bed. He was probably sleeping just fine.

“Hey, hon, you don’t hate me, right?” Art’s voice whispered in the darkness.

[Y/N] was fairly certain she had imagined it. She had not heard his sweaty feet on the stairs or his fingers against the doorknob. Quickly, [Y/N] whipped over to face the door behind her.

There was Art. His sweatpants sat low on his hips and his shirt was long gone. Clothing didn’t often survive the night on Art’s back.

Really, she couldn’t help but wonder how long it had taken Art to work through coming upstairs so quietly. “Mm?” [Y/N] groaned in question.

Art rocked his right shoulder into the doorway to lean. His arms were crossed and his eyes straight ahead on her from what [Y/N] could tell in the glow of the hallway’s thermostat. “Please just tell me you don’t hate me and I’ll let you go back to sleep. I can’t stop thinking about it.”

With a sigh, [Y/N] sat up and rolled her cracking shoulders back. “I don’t hate you, Art.” Her heart melted a little bit. [Y/N] knew it was immature, but her special attack in arguments since childhood was to bandy around the word hate a lot. Not that she had said it to Art tonight, but she had no doubt said it before. More than once. More times than she could count, maybe.

She was surprised Art had never asked this before. That surprise hurt in an a way that was too complex to describe. “I could never hate you.” [Y/N] continued, voice hushed only because it was dark out.

Art’s posture relaxed slightly. “You promise you don’t?” Said Art’s evermore crippling lack of self-confidence.

“I promise.” [Y/N] replied calmly.

“Okay. Thank you.” Art said in a small voice.

“I love you, baby. I don’t hate you. You shouldn’t have to ask that. I’m sorry I made you feel like you even have to ask that.”

Art frowned sharply. “No, I’m the one that should be sorry. You told me nicely not to talk about—“

“Don’t play that. You have to know you don’t feel like you did anything wrong, so you don’t have to invent a situation where you’re some horrible person.”

Art was silent.

[Y/N] continued. “I’m pissed because you told Randy,” RANDY. His name was RANDY. That’s it. “Our business. My business, really. He’s an asshole. It’s fine. Well, not now, but eventually. But you kinda martyred yourself on it. You don’t have to do that and I don’t hate you. You know I don’t… Right?”

“I’m sorry.” Art said quickly. He was gifted at making every single minor problem his own fault. He knew he was a little bit of an awful person for that, but he would die before admitting it. Art would hide behind his martyring habit as long as his cross could hold him, though. [Y/N] hadn’t noticed before this moment, but she could see the shining of his eyes in the digital blue-green glow. Tears. This time, less than obvious waterworks. Aw.

“I’m sorry. I’m still pissed at you for running your mouth, but I’m sorry too.”

Art nodded, said nothing else and reached for the doorknob.

Here is a frustrating thing about Art.

He said he was going to leave for downstairs once [Y/N] said she didn’t hate him. He started to make good on that vow. If he says something, he’s going to do it, even though he doesn’t have to do it.

“Come on,” [Y/N] called louder than she’d been whispering. “Come here, pretty baby.”

Pretty Baby by Blondie had been their wedding song. She had been calling him that for almost as long as she had known him. Saying it, or hearing the song always made that stunning, small crooked smile stretch up beyond his sad puppy eyes all the way to his ears.

Art’s kryptonite was pretty baby. They both knew it.

He turned to look at her with a slight blush on his cheeks, almost visible in the dark. Art shifted one of his feet childishly over the other in apprehension.. “Don’t make me say it again. I don’t like to ask twice.” [Y/N] reminded him.

After a hasty nod, Art was in bed before he [Y/N] blinked. The blonde sat bolt upright beside [Y/N] with his eyes wide. Hesitant, but coyly so. He knew this pattern. The agony and shame from her brutality would only last so long. Housepets loved to cause trouble for treat.

Not to say that Art liked to start fights so he could play some low-status lapdog that got to feel his wife’s fingers comb through his hair the way he liked as a reward for an apology. The man bit his cheek to avoid a devious smirk. A part of him did like to do that sometimes, though.

He always got away with it. He was such a nice boy.

[Y/N] rolled her eyes and leaned back into the threadbare pillows. With a finger, she beckoned Art nearer. Hesitation eliminated, Art flopped slowly down beside [Y/N]; she on her back, he on his side, facing her. Delicately, Art’s fingers dragged down [Y/N]’s arm to curl in her fingers.

Not long after that, his plush mouth climbed down from her neck. Then shoulders and collarbones. Then bicep. Elbow. Forearm and wrist. Down her hand to her silver-studded ring finger. Each kiss with accompanied with an honest and dutiful I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. He was sorry. Genuinely. Sorry for the upset he brought his wife, but not the cause. Art’s beautiful duel-colored eyes glanced up at [Y/N]’s blown pupils through her own fingers.

“I didn’t mean to talk about you like that… I just… I love you so much that I want more of you. That’s all, honey,” Art laid his head on [Y/N]’s upper chest and his mouth moved against the front of her throat. “I’m just a little stupid, huh…”

Under his lips, Art could feel the rumble of a laugh rip through [Y/N]’s throat. Her fingers tangled themselves in his hair to hold him in place. “Do-don’t talk about yourself like that,” she mumbled and gave his hair a lovely tug with both hands. He whimpered. [Y/N] wanted to bottle that sound. Art would always remember what she said next and how she said it: “Only I get to talk about you like that… St-stupid.”

This was the version of [Y/N] he was going to remember when he thought of her every day for the rest of his life. That sentence, the way her hair hung from where he had pushed it away from her neck. The sting of the cold metal from her wedding ring on the back of his neck and the stone of her engagement ring pressing into where he reached his palm to place his hand over hers. There was just the wrong amount of clothes between them. Her eyes ringed smoky from the makeup smudges and the exhaustion.

“Say it again.” Art whispered, swinging a knee over [Y/N]’s thighs so he could stare down at her. His forehead pressed softly against [Y/N]’s.

[Y/N]’s mouth fell open slightly with a breathy exhalation. Holy shit. “What, pretty baby, you want me to tell you how stupid you are? You like that?” [Y/N] almost whispered into Art’s still lips. He was too shocked to kiss her back, but too turned on to pull away. Art whimpered louder than before. [Y/N] felt him nod.

So she didn’t hold back. “You think I need to punish you after you behaved like that today or something? You need to atone for what a moron you were, shithead?” [Y/N] kept her tone light enough to just about tease as her nose trailed along the side of his. Her objective was to belittle. Her nails slid down Art’s muscular, sturdy back.

They both knew Art was a masochist on his worst days. Did he get off on being degraded sometimes? Sure. But this series of events was ridiculously new and exciting for [Y/N]. And shockingly obviously for Art too.

His hips pressed into her pathetically. “What? Did you need help with something?” She asked innocently when she felt Art’s hard-on against her thigh. [Y/N] kissed him distractingly warmly for how she was treating him. Art’s head spun and he couldn’t seem to make sense of anything anymore. He had backed himself into the best kind of corner.

Across Art’s hips and side went [Y/N]’s left hand, to the front of his sweatpants. Humiliatingly, Art blinked tears out of his eyes and screwed them shut. His mouth opened and closed, but no intelligent sound came out. [Y/N] planted a kiss at the corner of his parted lips. His strong arms boxed [Y/N] protectively in from above, but she had him locked into place, really. “Baby, if you want something, you know you have to ask for it.”

“Nnh,” Art tried, eyes stuck shut. His attention was mostly spent hold himself up over his wife. His insanely gorgeous wife. [Y/N]’s other hand grabbed his jaw tenderly. He still didn’t look at her. Art was gathering his courage. “Yo-you already told me I couldn’t have what I wanted.”

With a sharp inhale, [Y/N] grip went from gentle to nonexistent. At the lack of contact, Art’s damp eyes crept open one at a time to see if his brattiness had overstepped the situation. His frightened eyes caught [Y/N]’s. She popped the side of his face sharply with an open palm. Art blinked and tipped his head to the side like a dog.

That was big trouble, huh?

“Fuck,” he said. Both of them panted in sync. “I’m sorry.” He meant it.

[Y/N] pulled Art’s face to hers and kissed him hard. “I love… you.” She said.

#art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x you #art donaldson imagine #art donaldson #challengers movie

1K notes · View notes

chuluoyi · 7 months

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I'm thinking about Megumi's sister, who went to magic school with him. who was trained by Gojo. who fell in love with Gojo. who dared to confess her feelings to him. and which Satoru rejected, saying that he was too old for her

it doesn't have to be something obscene… so if you like this idea, then please write something!

belong with me

- gojo satoru x reader

the strongest sorcerer is your savior. you know he is far from your reach... but is it so wrong to love him—after the years you spent by his side?

genre/warnings: angst to fluff, a bit slow burn, reader pining on gojo, mentions of injury, comfort

notes: omg omg i actually really like this idea!! i had wanted to write this since you sent this ask but i was struggling with the setting, so i tweaked minor things so that it’ll fit the canon timeline—reader is megumi’s cousin rather than sister.

and *sigh* it somehow turned out into a 4k+ word🤧

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

What is Gojo Satoru to you?

If asked that, Megumi would definitely say that he owed both of your lives and his sister’s to him. Following the chaos too complicated for you to understand that left the three of you orphaned at the age of six, Gojo Satoru, who were just barely an adult himself then, was the one who stepped in to take all of you in.

But to you, he was more than just that. He was many things. Your savior, mentor, friend, and... you daresay, first love.

And because of that, you would never thought that there’d come a time when your heart was really broken by him.

At first, Gojo Satoru felt like a big brother to you. Megumi was suspicious of him since the very beginning—his skepticism was funny sometimes—but you and Tsumiki weren’t as much.

He easily became your friend. You would laugh for hours to end after he cracked the stupidest or lamest of jokes. He made the fact that curses exist and that you were somehow able to keep them at bay more bearable.

And when Tsumiki fell into her curse… Gojo was there to bring you comfort.

“Why isn’t she waking up?” Your hands were shaking as you frantically poked and nudged your kind cousin from her peaceful slumber at the hospital bed. The smell was suffocating—the sight was unbearable. Tsumiki was supposed to be bouncing up and keeping both you and Megumi at bay, not lifelessly lying here like this.

Facing Gojo, who had a tight-lipped expression beside you, you pleaded, "Gojo-sensei—" your glassy eyes welled up, voice choked with tears, "—make her wake up, please..."

And that was the first time he broke your heart. Even the strongest couldn’t lift this cruel curse posed upon your kind sister.

Your throat tightened, choked with painful whimpers as tears flowed uncontrollably. Sudden grief overwhelmed you, making you sway and shake like a leaf. At first, you didn’t notice how a pair of warm hands enveloped you, drawing you close for comfort.

Gojo allowed you to cry against him while you pounded on his chest. Not a word came out of his lips, a telltale sign that he was taking the situation seriously—something you, above anyone else, understood well.

From then on—ever since the tragedy that befell Tsumiki, it seemed like Gojo became even more protective of you but stricter with Megumi. The two of you eventually pursued the path of jujutsu, driven by one wishful thinking in mind—the possibility to break Tsumiki’s curse.

Encountering Gojo became a daily routine when you lived at the dormitory as a first year at Jujutsu High. He frequently dropped by just to greet you, or give you some things he got from his missions.

"Here," Gojo handed you the package of a popular kikufuku store. With that blindfold on and a shit-eating grin split his face, he actually looked so ridiculous. "I got you all their available flavors! Trust me, you'll like them!"

Against your own will, you felt rosy blush spreading across your cheeks. "Oh, thank you... I'll give some to Megumi as well, he's been working hard lately..."

"Ehh?" he pursed his lips. "No, no, no—they're for you! Don't give them to that emo kid!"

There was absolutely nothing significant about how he worded it. You were well aware of that—only a fool wouldn't be.

So why are you so giddy? Hah, why do you feel like you're... special?

"Don't call him emo," you chided, trying to suppress your smile.

"But he is! He's always grouchy with me without reason!"

Throughout your childhood, and now as you were entering adulthood yourself, Gojo's presence in your life still felt like a comforting, warm blanket—a dependable presence you could rely on, someone you could trust completely.

And apparently, someone you had unwittingly given your heart to.

It was a gradual process. You didn't fall for him at first sight or anything of the sort—it took years of being under his protection. Even as you watched him pursue one girl after another from the sidelines, you couldn't deny it—your heart was already his since then.

He always knew what to say, how to cheer you up.

"What's got you so down, huh?" Gojo asked, tousling your hair gently as you slouched. "Is it because of earlier? Don't be so down, you're doing great."

You fidgeted with your fingers, feeling the sting of failure twisting your gut. "I held everyone back, sensei. That's not great at all."

In the last mission, you nearly put Yuji and Nobara's lives in danger. You had taken the initiative to step into the cursed room, and had it not been for Megumi who came to your rescue, any one of you could have sustained significantly more severe injuries.

Gojo offered you a lopsided smile. "You couldn't have known that. Don't beat yourself up so much. The most important thing is that all of you are safe."

"But we might not, all because of my daring ass."

"Look."

He squatted to meet your eye level, and it dawned on you that he wasn't wearing that blindfold. "The fact is that everyone is good. And no, even if Megumi wasn't there, you wouldn't have been doomed. I would have been there, I always have, yeah?"

He was truly a sight, with that sparkling eyes even more so when he smiled unabashedly, voice not as playful as his tone usually was.

"That doesn't make me feel better," you replied, forcing out the words even as you were somewhat awestruck. "It doesn't change the fact that I'm inadequate."

"You're a first year," Gojo pointed out. "Everyone is bound to make mistakes. You just have to learn from them."

"In our line of work, those mistakes can cost us lives." You chewed your lip, looking down. "I—I don't want to be responsible for someone's death."

Your words left Gojo momentarily speechless. His blue eyes blinked several times as though he was taken aback, and you felt even more small—you had just revealed your deepest fear to him.

But suddenly, he laughed right in your face, prompting you to shoot him a glare. Just as you were about to retort, he rested his palm on your head.

"Do you seriously think I will allow that to happen?" Gojo queried with a wide grin and snarky tone. "To you, out of everyone else?"

You gazed at him in a daze, feeling self-conscious with his warm hand on your head. He'd likely done this a hundred times already, but you could never get past the sensation of his gentle touch on your skin. You yearned for more—for him to cradle your face, to caress you, to draw you closer—

“The obvious answer is, I won't,” he declared so surely, exuding unwavering confidence. You blinked, marveling at how his words made your heart soar and your breath catch. “So stop thinking about scary things. I'm here, remember?”

How was there a person who was such a perfect blend of the man of your dreams—smug, but also funny, caring and strong, like Gojo Satoru was?

Was it a sin to harbor these feelings for him? He has always been kind to you, and if you daresay it, fond of you as well. Is there a possibility—

Really, you should have known your boundaries.

"I think..."

And yet your heart screamed, for whatever it's worth—

"...I love you..."

Why couldn't you see that this was doomed right from the start?

"—Gojo-sensei."

You were breathless. Your wildly thumping heart drowned out almost everything else. Your hands were sweaty, and you braved yourself to meet his eyes.

And when you did, you knew heartbreak for the second time—

The way his smile faltered a bit, yet he forced it upwards, perhaps to spare your feelings.

Just as he always has. Ever since he rescued you back then, he would do these silly things so you would feel better.

"I'm flattered, you know?" Gojo gazed at you genially. "But I think—"

"You don't understand." What am I even insisting? "I... like you so much, Gojo-sensei. All this time."

It was supposed to be your final card. Baring everything to him. How grateful you were that he took you in, the kindness he showed you, Megumi and Tsumiki, those sleepless nights after Tsumiki fell into coma that he spent with you, sharing shaved ice on the hottest, cruelest summer...

"You're almost half my age," he stated matter-of-factly, and a sinking feeling settled in your stomach. "You're mistaking love for admiration. That's it."

"No! I know how I feel—"

"You should find someone your age," Gojo added while maintaining his smile. "There are good guys out there. Toge is nice—ah, but his cursed technique might be a little troublesome. Yuji is earnest and honest..."

You have never thought that there’d come a time where your heart was really broken by him. But he just did, as he listed all your friends without any regard to your feelings.

Suddenly, a wave of resentment surged within you, prompting you to hiss and cut him off.

"You're always like this," your eyes had started to well up with tears, but you ignored it. His puzzled expression only fueled your frustration.

"I hate how you constantly treat me like a child!"

You felt ashamed, but in hindsight you should've probably expected this. You didn't have anyone else to blame but yourself. You knew it wasn't fair to lay the blame on Gojo like now—he was merely on the receiving end of the brunt of your heartbreak.

You hated this. You hated yourself. And you couldn't help but to hate him too, despite knowing that you shouldn't.

With that, you dashed away, tucking away your first love to the furthermost part of your heart, swearing that you'd never, ever revisit that chapter of your life again.

Ain't that just the worst thing to hear?

Witnessing your tear-streaked face as you hurried past him left him stunned, rooted in place.

In no way was Gojo Satoru going to romance his own student. You were quite literally his protege and his other protege’s sister. That was simply out of the question. Not that he was the model of propriety, but even he knew that was not right.

And it didn’t have anything to do with the fact whether he did see you as a woman or not, because even if he did, it shouldn’t make a difference.

Right? It won’t change anything.

Because it was how it was supposed to be.

It was probably one of the forms of tantrum—or whatever it was labeled—in the end, it was simply a reaction to not achieving what you wanted.

For years, Gojo had shielded you and Megumi from the Zen’in clan. They were horrible people, and you were eternally grateful that Gojo went to great lengths for you, always swatting them away before they could get close to either of you.

Now that you thought about it, who they really wanted was Megumi. Your cousin held the quintessential Zen'in talent, while your modest Projection Sorcery wasn't particularly rare among the clan. Still, they sought you as well, merely to bolster their prestige with another member.

Normally, you wouldn't think such things. But you weren't in the best state of mind, muddled by your blind heartbreak. It skewed your mindset to one of the extremes.

And then you got this terrifyingly brilliant idea—what if you turned yourself to them? Surely the Zen’in would be sated for a while and stop bugging Megumi.

And you didn’t have to see Gojo as often too.

This went against everything he had done to ensure your safety. But that was the first thing that entered your mind when Zen’in Naoya accosted you by chance.

"We're family," he stated with a smirk, sending a shiver down your spine, an unsettling feeling washing over you. "We wouldn't harm you. Why waste your time being Gojo's little errand girl, huh?"

This was easier, or at least that was the illusion you attempted to persuade yourself with.

Naoya left with you with a meaningful "Think about it."

And the more you thought about it, the more you leaned towards the scenario you had thought to be unimaginable before—leaving Gojo behind.

Two months had passed since then, and it was time for the Kyoto Goodwill Exchange event. Gojo remembered this being one of the most exciting moments during his youth, and he sincerely wished that you would have fun too, even with all that had been going on between you.

He knew he was the one who said Yuji would be good. But he wanted to backtrack when he saw him getting punched by Todo. Nah, Yuji was too stupid, he wouldn’t want that for your match. Must be someone else… who was stronger, better.

And then he was even more beside himself when he saw you with Mechamaru.

Like really? That tin soldier? You could definitely have someone more human. He surely didn’t approve of the sight of you getting friendly with that suspicious scrap of metal!

"Hah," he grumbled to himself. Was it just him or were young boys these days simply too subpar?

Yuji is too risky, after all, he is also Sukuna's vessel. Todo... no way, he can crush you with one hand... Panda is a panda...

As if the roster wasn't bad enough, he was met with the most bewildering sight.

Never would have Gojo thought that someway or another, he would see you with that obnoxious Zen'in spawn who called himself the heir.

Before he could grasp his actions, he stomped right into the midst of where the two of you were—

. . .

You were a step away from agreeing to a whole load of new mess, until wind got knocked out of your lungs as you were harshly yanked from behind—

—and the next thing you knew, a broad back was in front of you.

“What do you want?” a low voice, almost foreign to your ears. But this man before you was Gojo Satoru himself, just way sterner than he usually was.

You were caught off guard by his tight grip on your wrist, his dark gaze fixed on the Naoya.

“Ah, don't be like that, please.” Naoya dismissed with a wave of his hand. "I'm just saying that it's been too long already for you to play the benefactor. She ought to be with the family, where she rightfully belongs."

Gojo seemed to grow more imposing, his sneer deepening. "And by family you mean you?"

The atmosphere grew tense as the exchange between them continued, each word laden with underlying tension.

"Hah, Gojo-sama, you really think you're so high and mighty, don't you? I'll have you know that she, and by extension, the Fushiguro boy, are Zen'ins. No matter how—"

Naoya's words seemed to falter as Gojo's presence intensified. There was this thick electricity in the air, and you almost shuddered when he spat, "Leave."

He couldn't possibly murder another great clan's heir, no matter how much he might have been able to. It would incite a strife that would make his eyes hurt. He just had to scare him off.

And he did. Naoya went with his tail tucked behind him, and that was one problem taken care of. Now Gojo just had one other thing to deal with—

"What were you thinking?" he asked, his tone sharp and accusing, before he even properly faced you. "Since when did you start meeting up with him?"

You hadn’t talked to him ever since your botched confession, but with the way it seemed, he was acting quite normal. It irked you.

"That's hardly your business," you retorted with a hiss.

Your responses seemed to grate him. "Oh? What do you mean it's not?"

"He is right, isn't he? I'm a Zen'in. There is no need for you to go out of your way to keep me under your wing. I can always go back to them."

"Are you—" His frustration was evident and it was quite possibly the first time you saw him direct this at you. "You can't go to them—"

"Sure," you mocked, wrenching your wrist away from his grasp. "I'm telling you, I'm not a child, Gojo-sensei. Please stop telling me what should and I should not do."

"That's not what I'm getting at. I've told you how horrible that place is, your place definitely isn't there."

"And? Where should I be?" you huffed challengingly. "Please, don't tell me that it's your cue to say that it's by your side. Because both of us know it's not."

Gojo didn't know what frustrated him more, the fact that you somehow fell into whatever it was that Naoya had whispered to your ear or how bratty you were being right now. Unwittingly, he let his own pettiness slip out, "You know what? You're being quite childish right now."

He convinced himself that, having practically raised you, he was entitled to have a say in major decisions in your life. He wouldn't let the Zen'in take Megumi away, let alone you.

Your face went scarlet with repressed anger. "So be it then."

With that, you stalked away, and just like how you went away from him the first time, Gojo could only stare at you in silence.

How had your relationship with him turned this sour? Was it the wrong thing to not acknowledge your confession before? He sincerely thought you would realize the implications behind your own words and snap out of that ideal version of him you had in mind—because he knew best that he wasn’t made for this.

Girls your age must want a taste of young love. He understood that, but it couldn’t be with him. It had to be someone else.

He resumed his musings earlier before he found you out with Naoya. And he finally came to a conclusion, that Yuta was the best match. Shame he was still away somewhere in Africa.

When Yuta got back, he would introduce him to you. Yuta was strong, kind, and he wouldn’t hurt you. And it would do him good too to have someone who cares about him.

Gojo Satoru never made flawed judgements. He knew this was the best approach, and yet why was there still this stifling feeling in his gut… at the idea of you being with someone—god forbid—who isn't him?

Not long after, a sinking feeling gnawed at him at the chaotic mess surrounding the Kyoto Goodwill event.

At first Gojo thought it was the standard worry. He chalked it up to all of his students were trapped inside this curtain that specifically forbid him to enter. Naturally, he would worry for his students; after all, he was their teacher.

But when he saw you fell on your knees with what seemed like a stem of cursed flower perched on your chest, he knew it was something else.

You were gasping for breath, clutching your chest in pain while Panda supported your weakened form, and seeing you like that apparently was too much for him. For the first time, Gojo regretted his decision. He shouldn't have pursued the enemy first. He should have gone to you first.

His instinct took over as he swiftly tore you away from Panda’s arms, drawing you close to his chest. His mind went blank, but he forced himself to focus on you, on what was causing you pain. "Y/N, calm down—"

"It hurts—!" you whimpered, digging your nails into his arm tightly, tears streaming down your face. "It hurts so much... I-I..."

For Gojo, this was a form of torture he hadn't realized before. For him, seeing you smile should have been the default, not this sobbing, injured, vulnerable state you were in now.

"I'll take you to Shoko. You'll be fine," he murmured decisively into your ear as you slumped against him. His grip around you tightened, and he repeated, "You'll be fine, I promise."

In the midst of your foggy mind, a realization struck—this was the second time you were ever held in his arms. And much like the first time, you felt an overwhelming sense of security.

Ah, but he had rejected you. You should know your place. You really should because pining on someone who didn't want you wasn't a wise thing to do.

But just this once...

Stupid. You were stupid indeed.

Because you chose to bask in this very short fantasy, fervently wishing that the heavens would grant you this sweet dream of him holding you in his arms like just this for a little longer.

As Gojo quietly observed you resting after being tended by Shoko, numerous thoughts swirled through his mind.

"I hate how you constantly treat me like a child!"

That was not true. He didn't mean to treat you like a child, because you were indeed not. You were a grown woman now, no longer the crying child consoled by Tsumiki and protected by Megumi as you were back then.

Once, you were this young bud he was meant to nurture into strength, but now despite himself, he saw you more as a woman rather than his protege. He wanted to see you bloom into this pretty girl he had always known you were, always innocent and protected—and a selfish part of himself would add: preferably by himself.

You were so serene. You looked so soft too as you laid there. Gojo thought this wasn't quite right and he couldn't quite get the image of you screaming in pain out of his peripheral thoughts.

Had he truly fallen? This strong urge to protect you, ensure your happiness, see you always smiling—it was as if these emotions were suddenly planted, but immediately establishing themselves like deep-rooted feelings that wouldn't fade away easily.

No, actually... who was he kidding? It was what he had kept to himself for a while now. He just refused to acknowledge these feelings out of the misguided sense of propriety.

It was all he could think of from the moment you passed out until you awakened. He pasted a smile on his face when you opened your eyes to his face.

"Ah, Gojo-sensei..." you mumbled, still disoriented. The way you looked at him was as if you were spooked, to say the least, and it bugged him. "Sorry, how long have I passed out?"

"Just a few hours. Are you okay? Do you still feel the pain?"

"Uh... a bit, but I'm okay..."

Normally, he never seemed to run out of things to talk about with you. This was too obvious. You were uncomfortable with him, and he noticed it.

You also seemed acutely aware of this immensely awkward situation. Having spent the majority of your life with him, you used to be open and at ease around him. But now, it wasn't the same. All because of your reckless confession before.

You spent the first few hours with occasional silence. Eventually, Gojo stepped away for a while, leaving behind a lingering sense of discomfort instilled within you.

You remembered the feeling of being in his arms. Once again, he saved you. The least you could do is to express your gratitude.

I don’t like this. It had been two months already. You had to put an end to this unbearable tension. You couldn't force him to return your feelings—you understood that now. And to make it to the way it used to be, you had to make it clear to Gojo too.

And so when he was back to your room, you braved yourself again. For the second and last time.

"Gojo-sensei," you breathed out, willing your shaky hands at bay. "I'm sorry to make you uncomfortable. Please forget what I said before."

What is this now? Gojo blinked, stopping right in his tracks, somehow hearing how you started with a "sorry" didn't sit well with him.

You continued. "Maybe you are right. I'm grateful for you, I look up to you... for the longest time, I might even have idolized you."

Wait...

"But it isn't love," you said with finality, looking away. "This is me admiring you, for all things you have done for me. And even if it is, I still can't force you to look at me in that way."

Gojo could only gaze at you in silence, a storm raging inside his chest. This was what he had hoped you would realize when you confessed your feelings back then, but now—

"I don't like how... we are now," you gulped. "And it's my fault. So I'm taking it back—"

“No, just—” This wasn’t right. Gojo knows it, but why is he saying this? “Just wait for a minute.”

You started as someone he wanted to protect, along with Megumi and Tsumiki. And then you grew up right in front of his eyes. Someone like you, who had gone through many horrors in life ever since young should have someone dependable and strong who could make you happy.

But then Gojo thought, he didn’t like how others looked at you. Heck, in his eyes, they were inadequate for you, if anything.

“Sensei?” you looked up to him with that doe eyes of yours, and Gojo Satoru felt like this was enough.

To hell with you finding someone your age.

He was strong—the strongest, and if it’s him, he most definitely could protect you far better than anyone.

He could make you laugh—had been for years already, and nothing would stop him now.

He would be damned should you somehow go to the grubby hands of the Zen’in.

“Keep your eyes on me,” his somber voice said then, causing your heart to skip a beat in response.

In short, he was better-suited for you more than anyone else ever could, in every possible aspect.

Apparently he was right. Your place was by his side, after all.

“…because from now, I might start looking at you too.”

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2hightocare · 4 months

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INFATUATED!

“In a world of boys, he’s a gentleman.” — mini series ❦︎

Synopsis: The feeling of finding a person who makes your tummy do cartwheels everyday, no matter what the situation is.

Pairings: nonidol!jungkook x fem!reader

Warnings: super cute duper fluff, jk being the epitome of every girls dream man. Argument, oc crying, Jungkook wasting money on oc, banter, cussing, flirting. Js super cute cliché shit…

a/n: they’re my babies… they’re so ‘tear in my heart’ coded but after this I might be inactive. I have a paper due in three weeks 10 pages long so…. Plus in my free time I’m working on a series that I will drop the teaser and aesthetic maybe later or tmr🤍🤍🤍 enjoy!! Kithes.

Falling in love with Jungkook was so easy that it scared you. He did everything right, and whenever there was something wrong, he would do anything in his power to make it right. You thought it was too good to be true, and he would just disappear into angel dust if you blinked too fast.

“How do you feel?” Your boyfriend moves your hair out of your face, kissing your forehead in the process. “Warm.” You talk about the fever you have. The covers that were wrapped tightly around you are shredded from you. “Hey!” You pout, shaking from how cold you feel even though the air is off and it’s not cold. “You’re not going to get better, baby.” He pouts back at you, holding the covers tightly on his chest as you try to fight back for it.

“I'm freezing,” you whine, your eyelids fluttering shut as his palm touches your face.

“You’re burning, baby,” he lets you know while sighing.

You had gotten sick yesterday, which had started with a sore throat. You had thought when you would have woken up today it would’ve been gone; spoiler: it got worse.

Jungkook makes his way to his kitchen, opening up the gray cabinet in front of him. He pulls out the tray filled with medicine his mom gave him whenever he moved out around four years ago. He pops open the pill container, taking two small white round pills out before grabbing a water bottle and making his way to you, who’s curled up on his couch.

Jungkook feels like shit whenever he can’t do anything to make you feel better. It didn’t matter what it was; he would do anything in his power to make you feel better. Seeing you sick, your face red from how hot you are, your eyes closed, and curled up from how cold you felt had him thinking that if he could take away your sickness and be sick instead, Jungkook would choose that option in an instant.

He hands you the pills and the water bottle and watches you take them one by one. He remembers when you gawked at him when he took 4 pills at once and learned that you have a fear of the pill going down the wrong tube.

He also remembers that you prefer pills and injections instead of just medicine syrup. Which baffled him, to say the least; how could someone prefer an injection instead of just strawberry-flavored syrup? He laughed at you, which you just shrugged because it was the truth; you preferred to get poked by a needle than just drinking something.

“That’s actually crazy.” Jungkook throws his head backwards as a laugh rips out of his chest. “It’s nasty. I don’t care what flavor it is. I would literally throw it up.” You scrunch your nose, remembering the taste of the medicines your parents literally shoved down your throat so you could get better.

“Don’t get me started on how anything medicine strawberry flavored gives me PTSD till this day.” You shiver from the thought, which has your boyfriend laughing at you.

“I can’t breathe,” you say, your voice scratchy from your sore throat as you breathe from your mouth. “I should’ve enjoyed breathing when I could,” you joke, watching your boyfriend's eyes twinkle. They had a small glimmer to them, making you wonder how that could possibly happen and why you haven't seen it before with anyone else.

Jungkook had no clue how he ended up here… with a girl he met in a chemistry class that accidentally dropped sulfuric acid all over the floor alongside the beaker smashing into tiny pieces. He watched how your eyes widened as a small piece of your hair dropped beautifully in front of your face out of the low ponytail. You had tied it with a blue latex glove as a hair tie since you didn’t have one after no one in class had one to let you borrow.

That was two years ago; now here he was taking care of you as you struggled to breathe from your congested nose.

“Can I get my blanket back?” You pout at him, which he only shook his head with a chuckle.

….

“Get whatever you want,” Jungkook gave your ass a little tap as you entered the makeup store, your eyes widening from excitement. “Don’t say stuff like that,” you give him a look, which has him tilting your face up with his hand.

“Why, baby?” He chuckles, pecking your pouted lips.

“Because it makes me feel things, duh,” you whisper into his lips. He smiles into your mouth. His lip piercing sends cold shocks through your body that has you playfully shoving him away, remembering where you guys are.

“Get whatever you want, and then we can go to the bookstore,” Jungkook picks up the black and white striped little Sephora bag before pointing in front of you to walk.

You giggled as you started looking for the things that have been sitting in your phone cart for a while now. Jungkook follows behind you, stopping whenever you stop to look at the shelves for something before you drop the product in the basket in your boyfriend's hand.

“That’s really cute,” Jungkook mentions the lipstick tester you have in your hand. “You should get it,” he says, tilting his head at you, watching you open the lid being met with a reddish-dark color.

“Don’t you think it’s too dark?” You look up at your smiling boyfriend.

“What?” You giggle as you stare back at him. “You look beautiful,” he says casually, reaching for your beanie and pulling it down a bit more, fixing it. “You literally want me to die right now,” you joke. “Baby!” Jungkook laughs at the tone of voice you used.

“You can’t keep saying things like that without expecting me to literally melt away,” you lean your body onto him while he wraps his strong hands around your much smaller frame as you look up to him.

“I just say whatever is in my mind at the moment, princess,” he explains, giving your waist a small squeeze, making you squirm as the feeling made you ticklish. “Ah!” You laugh as his fingers dig into your rib cage, tickling you.

You push him away as he tries to continue to tickle your tummy. “Stop!” You laugh, trying to get away as far as you can from him.

Jungkook stops when he sees two girls around your guy's age pass beside you both with judging eyes. “Someone’s mad...” Jungkook whispers into your head as you just shake your head with a laugh.

“Let’s leave, I got everything,” you giggle, intertwining your fingers with him, making your way to the line.

When you guys finally get to the line, you are met with a pretty blonde girl, her dimples carved into her skin when she smiles up at you both. “Hi, is that all?” The girl said, you take notice of her name tag.

“Yes, that's all, thank you,” you smile back. “Find everything you wanted?” Genesis asks, as she starts scanning the products. “Yeah, thanks,” you say, playing with the strings of your hoodie as you see the price rise with each scan.

“Card or cash?” Genesis says, as she points to the credit card reader.

“Card,” Jungkook says before you could reply. He pulls out his black card from the back of the phone case, before scanning it through the white card reader without looking at the price. The machine makes a small sound, “here you go, have a wonderful day!” The girl says ripping the receipt before putting it into the white and black bag, handing it to you.

“Thank you, baby,” you say as you walk out the door of the store, Jungkook smiles at you before shrugging. “The least I could do, princess,” he gives your hand three small squeezes, which feels like he’s squeezing your heart as well. “It was expensive as fuck,” you pout at him. “How much?” He asks, “a thousand.” You cringe, scrunching your nose up at realizing the astonishing price. “That’s it?” Jungkook raises an eyebrow before reaching to the passenger side of his car.

“What! You’re crazy,” you say, giving him a slight swat. You watch as the side of his lips quirk up, making you mirror his actions.

“I love you,” you pout, as he leans into his car. “And I love you so much more,” he says, pulling you into him from your waist.

You tipped toe to reach for his lips, his lips mold with yours perfectly as you both were pieces of a puzzle. “How do you want the kiss?” He asks, giving your waist a squeeze. “What is this, a drive-thru? I get to ask what type of kiss I want,” you giggle, letting your forehead drop onto his chest which rumbles with a laugh.

“You get to ask whatever you want from me,” Jungkook rubs your back softly on top of your thick hoodie. “Oh shit,” your eyes widened as you saw the small print of your makeup on his black shirt when you raised your head upwards. “What?” He looks down to his shirt where you’re rubbing your fingers on the dirty print.

“I just ruined your shirt, baby, ahh!” You freak, which has Jungkook laughing while trying to reassure you that it’s fine and he’ll just wash it when he gets home.

As much as you guys had moments like this, you guys had your disagreements. They weren’t as bad where they ended in screaming matches or end up not talking for days, you guys usually make up the same day before going to bed. Jungkook loathed going to bed whenever you two fought; he felt compelled to make things right before even considering sleep.

“Why are you making me feel bad?” You say, your voice cracking, which echoes the fractures in Jungkook's heart. “I’m not, baby. It’s just... I can’t do anything about it,” Jungkook tries to reason with you.

“She was literally all over you, and you didn’t stop it,” you feel your eyes start to water before staring down at your converse.

“She’s my mom's best friend's daughter; I can’t just tell her to fuck off, y/n. I backed off. I can’t control what she does,” Jungkook raises his voice, a tear falling down your cheek as he addresses you by your first name, a departure from his usual endearments, which feels like a knife to your chest.

“Okay, then,” you nod, tears starting to cascade down, smudging your makeup in the process.

Jungkook's throat tightens; he feels like he can't breathe, feeling like shit. He watches you wipe your tears, small sniffles escaping your mouth. “I’m going to go,” you sniffle, turning your back to him and reaching for your bag.

“No, don't leave, let’s talk this out,” Jungkook implores, turning you around to face him. He reaches for your cheeks, wiping away the tears that continue to fall down your puffy cheeks. “You’re hurting me,” you say, with a sniffle.

“I know. I’m fucking sorry, baby,” he feels his heart racing, wanting to die for making you feel bad for caring about him.

“Why didn’t you push her away or say something? You made me look fucking stupid, Jungkook,” you cry, recalling the pang of feeling as Kailey flirted with him in front of his family, and he did nothing to stop it, leaving you feeling small and insignificant.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he kisses away your tears, trying to soothe the ache in your heart. “I promise I’ll shove her off whenever I see her, and if I have the chance to avoid her, I will,” he whispers into your cheek with each kiss he leaves on your face.

“Promise?” You whisper, finally meeting his worried eyes.

“Promise, baby,” he whispers back, holding eye contact with your red, puffy eyes.

“I hate making you cry; please forgive me,” Jungkook pulls you into him, hugging you tightly as if afraid you'll slip away. “I forgive you, just don’t do it ever again,” you sniffle into his chest, feeling the throb in your heart melt away.

“I love you,” he says, swaying you both in the middle of his living room.

“I love you,” you sniffle.

….

"But the Maze Runner is so good," you literally whine at your boyfriend, who is in the middle of changing his shirt.

"Yeah, but not as good as Spiderman," he says, poking his head out the shirt hole with a grin.

"Okay, true, but the Maze Runner is just as good; you need to read the book to understand," you mumble, trying to separate a piece of hair from your mouth as you curl another strand with your wand.

"You just have a huge crush on Dylan O’Brian, let’s be honest," your boyfriend chuckles, sending you a look through the mirror, to which you just roll your eyes back at him, acknowledging a) that he was right. b) he was literally right.

“Says the boy who had a crush on Fluttershy when we watched My Little Pony,” you say, giving him a 'don’t try me' look. His jaw falls before giving your hair a tiny soft pull.

"You said you wouldn’t bring it up," he laughs before shaking his head with a chuckle. "Well..." you just shrug.

“Fluttershy reminds me of you,” Jungkook stands behind you, his fingers playing with your freshly curled hair. “Until you act like a brat,” he tugs on your hair, making your head snap backwards, where he leaves a big fat smooch on your lips.

“Okay, princess, let’s go,” he says before unplugging the curling wand wire, grabbing your bag and coat, before holding your hand and leading you outside.

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another-emotional-wreck · 2 years

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i cant wait to leave this house lmao

#it's honestly not even that bad compared to some people I know #shit some of my friends have way worse situations that mine #but im so tired of having to take care of everything all the time #and being so sad and anxious and stressed #i just wanna be able to be a teenager and enjoy what little time I have left in high school #its not fair cause everyone around me gets to just be normal #even my own fucking siblings #whole time this seasonal depression is kicking my black ass and it feels like I cant even fully explain it to anyone #and i wanna cry about it but the tears literally wont come out lmao #so im listening to buttercup by hippo campus instead #which kinda helps ngl #but everything thats happened lately #idk ive been tryna stay okay for the past few years and between the depression and (likely) autism it's taking such a huge toll #i feel like my brain needs to throw up or something #even my best friend doesnt seem to get it and ik its not her job to provide me with therapy or anything and that shes trying #but i feel so fucking lonely lmao #and my moms birthday was this past Saturday so that was a thing #idk #i just wanna sleep for a really long time i think #cause rn i feel like my mental state is close to how it was freshman year and i actually don't think ill make it if i end up back there #lolz #anywhoo #im totally being dramatic its all good #lee rants #lee rambles

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zoesmp4 · 16 days

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WARMTH “and so, you drifted into sleep, finding solace in the warmth of his presence.” daryl dixon x fem!reader

tags: hurt to comfort, ass ending (i tried 💔), swearing, reader is on her period, short

a/n: first daryl fic woop woop!! everyone say thank you gracie cs she requested yet another good fic idea 😵‍💫 so it was supposed to be a fluff but it ended up being a htc.. oopsies.. but hope ygs enjoy!!

there were many perks that came from being a female. but periods? not one of them. you don’t know why your younger self was so eager to get it. to put it simply, periods sucked. they made you feel awful.

before the apocalypse it was already pretty hard for you. but now, it was incomparable. after all, it’s not like you had shit just laying around to help you.

so, whatever you thought was “rough” back then, it was way rougher now. when it was your time of month. you would get cranky, a stark contrast to your usual bubbly demeanor. on top of that, you also had to deal with the fatigue and endless mood swings.

the worst thing though, was the cramps. the constant waves of sharp pain pushed you to your limit.

they were also the reason you were currently perched on your bed, back leaning against the headboard, with your knees held up to your chest.

honestly, it had been a decent day until now. you did some stuff to help out, and caught up with your friends. you were able to partially take your mind off of the discomfort you were feeling.

but of course, the stupid cramps ruined it all. you had to excuse yourself before hastily making your way back to your room. you practically collapsed onto your bed the second you walked in.

and that’s how you found yourself in this situation. if anyone walked by your room, they would assume you were dying. or atleast, that’s what your countless groans made it sound like.

to your luck, you suddenly felt the urge to cry. “suck it up.” you told yourself, knowing that this was another dumb mood swing which was a normal occurrence during your period. but, you lost the battle between your emotions and you.

with the pain coming from your cramps, and the sudden sadness you felt, you couldn’t stop yourself. tears welled up in your eyes and cascaded down, mimicking a waterfall.

only a few moments later, you jumped slightly when you heard a loud knock at your bedroom door. the person didn’t even wait for your response before barging in. that sort of thing would’ve annoyed you if it was any other person, but it was daryl.

you felt slightly embarrassed that he was seeing you in this state, but he was your boyfriend. he’s seen you at your worst. he quickly walked over to to your bed, his footsteps echoing.

“what’s up with ya? heard ya weren’t feeling too good.” he said, sitting down on your bed. he placed the back of his hand onto your forehead, checking to see if you were sick. after noticing you didn’t have a fever, he wiped his thumb under your eyes to wipe away the hot tears.

“no fever. why do ya look like yer bout’ to hurl?” he asked. the vision he put in your head didn’t make you feel any better. daryl didn’t know that much about periods, but you couldn’t blame him.

you opened your mouth to reply, but instead you let out another groan. he looked at you with concern in his eyes. “what do ya need? what’s wrong?” he grunted out.

all you needed was something that would relieve these fucking cramps. you needed a heating pad, but of course, you didn’t have one. so, you did the only thing that could help you in that moment.

you gently pulled your boyfriend’s head down to rest on your lap. you sighed in small relief. the feeling of his warmth coming into contact with your body felt nice.

meanwhile, daryl on the other hand was full of confusion. “the hell ya doin’?” he asked. “shut up, just give me a minute.” you mumbled, closing your eyes.

he wanted to protest, but he held himself back. he knew this was helping you, and thats all he really cared about. “get to sleep angel.” he quietly muttered.

and so, you drifted into sleep, finding solace in the warmth of his presence.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x fem!reader #norman reedus #daryl dixon smut #the walking dead imagine #daryl dixon imagine #the walking dead oneshot #daryl dixon oneshot #the walking dead #the walking dead x reader #twd #twd x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead fanfiction #twd fanfiction #the walking dead smut

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igotanidea · 7 months

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2 a.m. visit: Jason Todd x reader

link to the photo in the description, my mouth is foaming....

Summary: Y/N wakes up in the middle of the night to some disturbingly familiar sounds coming from her neighbour apartment.

Warnings: a bit of smut, but nothing too graphic (still MDNI), swearing, and possibly messed up ending.

***

It was 2 a.m. and she was fairly annoyed, knocking on her neighbour’s door.

God damn Jason Todd and his stupidly stupid habits of waking people in the middle of the night!

God damn Jason Todd who was apparently too busy making noises to open up!

“Todd!” she cried out, her rapping becoming more exasperated by a second. “TODD!” she couldn’t care less about the rest of the neighbours, who (with no hard feelings) were probably too old or too deaf to hear her calling. “Open up or I swear I’ll kick those doors”.

Obviously there was something around zero chances of her fulfilling that threat but what else was she supposed to do.

“TODD!!”

“What the hell?!” the door finally opened and the culprit himself stood up in front of her, wearing nothing but his boxers, his upper body exposed, his hair tousled in a perfect mess, his eyes a bit blurry. Clearly, it took him a second to realise that it was Y/N standing at his doorframe, but once he did, his eyes grew wide, he blushed a little and quickly grabbed one of his shirt hanging by the door and put it on it. “Y/N... I…. um….” He stuttered.

“Oh, stop with the fake modesty, Jason. I’ve patched you up too many times to care about you being covered or not.” She almost rolled her eyes at his actions.

“What…. I mean.. um... did something happened?” he mumbled looking at the floor. If only she knew what he was doing merely seconds ago she would probably understand why he was trying to cover himself up so desperately. Thank god, she was clueless, standing within arm’s reach of him, so cute and innocent in that pyjamas and without makeup.

“could you please moan quieter?” she asked, being as straight-forward and blunt as always.

“Wh-what -?” he could swear he had a mini heart attack the second those words left her lips. Oh, god…. “You-- ?”

“Thin walls.” She muttered.

“I…”

“Hey, it’s okay Jay. Don’t be embarrassed. We all have needs, I get that. But it’s not like I want to be up all night with that soundtrack in the background. However…” she trailed biting on her bottom lip to hide the amused smile showing on her face.

“What…?” Jason was both pale as a wall and red as a tomato.

“It’s quite a progress that I only hear one voice.”

His eyes grew wide once again, looking like a mill wheels. Oh shit, shit, shit….

“Y/N….”

“Sh. Told you, it’s okay. Apparently you got a way for girls to agree with you all the time. Yeah, I heard all those times too.” She winked at him. “But you’re alone tonight, aren’t you? Hope I didn’t ruin a perfectly good orgasm for another woman?”

“Y/N!!”

“What?”

“Stop it!” Shit, shit, shit.

“Why? Those are completely normal things, Jason. We are both adults and everyone else here is deep asleep, so what’s the problem?”

“YOU are my problem!” he cried out, pulling the shirt closer to his body, trying to hide something that was becoming terrifyingly visible. Fuck, she had no idea …

“Me?” Y/N frowned “Why me? Don’t be silly we are friends, I won’t give away which girl caught your attention. Besides, I didn’t hear you groaning any names so…” her casual shrugging almost made him yell in frustration. How could she possibly be so cool about everything, unfazed by the strangeness of the situation, while he was almost crawling out of his skin due to the mixed feelings?

“Fuck that!” he finally hissed and much to Y/N’s surprise grabbed her wrist and pulled her inside the apartment in the accompaniment of a single surprised cry.

“Hey! What’s with the passive aggression? I didn’t lock my flat!” poor girl tried to bypass him, but apparently Jason was dead set on making it impossible for her, standing in her way, his muscular frame blocking the exit.

“shut up!” he hissed, clenching his fists and it took her by surprise. Yes, she saw him pissed off before. Yes, she knew he was short-tempered and had anger management issues, but this? This was something different. Like he was walking on the edge, barely controlling himself but still fighting against blowing up in her face. Key word being barely.

“Jason….?” She stuttered taking a step back, bumping into table and almost throwing down the lamp. “Calm down… please…”

“Calm down?! The fuck am I supposed to calm down when you come here saying things like that to me, acting all innocent and pretending that you don’t see what you do to me!” he shouted taking as many steps forward as she was taking back.

“What I do to you?” she repeated, being completely oblivious to everything that was happening inside and outside Jason.

“Don’t pretend to be stupid!”

“HEY!”

“You do this on purpose!”

“Do what?! I don’t….holy shit!”

Mhm. Yes. You guessed it. She finally saw what she had been doing to him. And it was both exciting and disgusting. Jason was her friend! Her neighbour for god’s sake! A man who had different girl in his bed almost every night. Or every other night. And now… now he was clearly ready to make her one of his booty.

“Oh, no. No. No!” she scoffed “No way in hell.”

“Y/N…” Jason hissed, the way his body was reacting on having her so close was becoming painful. He took another step forward but she stopped him with putting a single finger up.

“Don’t! You dare move an inch. Why on earth do you have a hard on while …” she didn’t finish the sentence, her face dropping. “Oh… fuck… please tell me you didn’t …”

“Y/N….” he tried again, this time way more desperately.

“Oh my god… you did.” She gasped, her mind going into overdrive. “You did, didn’t you?”

“Please, just listen to me…” Jason Todd was whimpering like a dog, feeling like a total looser, embarrassed, humiliated, ready to crawl back to his grave and die because of the look she was giving him at the moment. It was never supposed to happen. She was never supposed to know or – god forbid – experience. It was supposed to be a secret. Closely guarded. To put it lightly, Jason was cursing himself for opening that stupid door in the first place. He foolishly believed that one round with imaginations in his head would be enough, but clearly it was not.

“Just say it! Come on, just admit it!”

“Fine! Fuck! Fine! I was thinking about you! Happy now?! I was thinking how it would be like to have you! To touch you, to kiss you, to hold you, to take you! Is that what you wanted to know?!”

“Damn Todd…”

“I can’t control it, even I wanted to! And the reason you didn’t hear any names through that fucking wall is…”

“No! No, don’t you dare saying it!” she rushed at him, putting her hand on his mouth, shutting him up.

The sudden contact, given the context of situation, was probably a mistake, since her touch sent shivers through Jason’s body and his eyes flashed dangerously with desire. Y/N was playing with fire now. The fire she was capable of starting so easily but unable to put out. And she knew it. And, being the perfect contrast to Jason’s burning, she froze at the spot.

They were standing in front of each other, in a dark apartment, Jason in boxers and shirt hanging loose from his body, doing nothing to hide those tons of muscles and Y/N in her pyjama, which was doing pretty much as little.

Slowly, mindful of every single muscle twitch she put her hand down, her eyes never leaving his. It was almost as if she was hypnotised. Or shocked. Or both. Her mind was screaming at her that Jason was her friend. Her friend. And it was unwise to ruin years of knowing each other just because she had the sudden urge of feeling the weight of his body on hers. Because for some unknowing reason, despite the fact that she saw those muscles and those scars so many times before, helping him with his injures, he never found him hotter than at that moment. Because the picture and imagination of his hands on her, his mouth on hers, kissing, biting, licking, tasting and exploring every inch of her skin, was doing so many things to her, she had to bite her bottom lip to stop the moan, arising inside her. Y/N heard a lot of girls through that wall and she knew Jason was more than skilled in the art of love making and pleasuring a woman. And despite all her morals and inhibitions the craving of him giving her a little demonstration was becoming unbearable.

That was not the plan.

That was definitely not the plan.

But she was just a woman, who hasn’t been touched in a while and her neighbour/ best friend, was apparently (and visibly) more than ready to help fight that touch starvation.

Shit.

Her gaze landed on those perfectly sculpted abs, chiselled chest, strong arms… Her mind started wondering of what it would be like to be gripped by them so tight it would leave hand shaped bruises, what it would feel like to be left breathless due to the pressure of his body pushing her into the mattress, to lose her voice while calling his name, feeling him in the most intimate way possible.

Shit.

She tried to not look at his face, to avoid those green eyes filled with lust. For her, for her body, for her moans, the taste of her lips, the feeling of her skin under his fingertips.

Oh, yes, she tried so hard.

To the best of her abilities and her obviously unwavering values.

She even tried to move back to run away from her own needs, which, ironically, she called normal a few minutes ago, while standing at his doorframe.

Funny how the tables turned, cause now she was all hot and bothered, feeling like a freaking prey while Jason was the hunter. And given all his Red Hood skills, he was not going to let go before getting the bunny he’s been chasing.

“I want you.” He whispered with that hoarse, low voice, making her take a sharp breath, almost catching in her throat. “I want you…” he repeated, appearing right next to her in a split second, grabbing her by the waist, pulling her to him, one of those perfectly thick thighs pressing between her legs in a way that made her buck her hips forward, wetness soaked her pyjama pants, her core craving friction. “Babygirl…” Jason whispered in her ear, brushing lips over her earlobe, and cheek, his breath burning her skin as he moved to nibble and lick the soft spot on her neck with his obviously trained tongue. Y/N could only fantasise what it would do in some other place.

“Jason…” she moaned.

“Yes, princess….” This was not a question. He didn’t have to ask what she wanted cause he already knew, probably even better than she herself could express. “Say yes… come on, sunshine. Let me make you feel good. Let me show you the pleasure you never knew before.” He kept caressing her, hands finding a way under her pyjama shirt, travelling up, feeling her soft skin, moving up to her breasts, not covered by bra, almost touching them, but leaving her wanting and needing.

“how are you so cocky now…?” she gasped, her body squirming when he pressed her into a wall. “you weren’t so self-assured a minute ago.”

“I must be doing something wrong if you can still think logically…” he smirked, reaching fingers up under her shirt, brushing over her boobs, causing another shudder. “Say yes…” he grabbed her tighter, showing all the man attitude. “Just say yes, baby…”

“Fuck… shit…” his thigh was pressing into her core invitingly and she wanted nothing more than to brush against it, but he was effectively preventing her from doing so. Little bastard wanted to be in control and to break her.

“Not even close, baby…” he nuzzled his nose in her hair, breathing in the scent of her shampoo mixed with the smell of her skin. “I want you… you want me… you can make it easy with just one word. Come on…” he started tracing the letters of said word on her waist, scratching gently, adding to her arousal “Y-E…”

“YES! Ok, fuck, yes, yes! I – mhp!”

She didn’t get to finish the sentence when his lips finally crashed on hers, hands grabbing her waist lifting her up and holding tightly against him, her back pressing into a wall, her legs wrapping around him. Each of Jason’s caress and movement was an entire declaration of the feeling that he had kept hidden for months, trying to suppress his affection for Y/N with multiple one night stands.

In a blink of an eye, his shirt was gone and Y/N was tracing over his skin, seemingly in the same way she’s been doing while cleaning him after patrols, but in fact, completely differently.

This whole situations was completely different, emotions and hormones running high and wild, out of any control, not that either of them wanted it.

No.

No, fuck the control. All they needed was the release, the sweet feeling of being with each other in that perfect, unfiltered, unadulterated way. No hesitation, no inhibitions just all the feels, even if they had no idea what they were doing, but also at the same time, moved with purpose, heading towards a specific goal.

Hands, lips, tongues, teeth, muscles.

Fingers tangling in hairs, hot, ragged breaths, mouth whispering love letters on skin, the urge to be even closer than physically possible.

Just them two in their bubble in dark room in a dark apartment.

Full desire.

Full pleasure.

The warmth of the other’s body, shivers of lust and excitement all over.

“Jason…” she whispered, letting go of him for a second to allow him to take her sleepwear off.

“Y/N… Y/N… oh, mine, mine…” Jason might have read hundredths of books in his life and had a vast vocabulary range but at his moment, he was only using body language, the only word on his mind was her name. HER name.

“Please…” she whispered, grabbing him tighter, running nails down his back. “Please…” she begged for the release, craving the feeling she’s been missing for such a long time, grinding on him, aching.

“Oh, princess, I’ll give you everything you want. But I want you in my bed first.” He smirked, pressing his lips to hers again, tasting her, while carrying her to bedroom, kicking the doors shut the second they reached the destination. “you’re the queen, I’m not taking you against the wall, baby.” he threw her on the bed, immediately climbing on top of her, spreading her legs and diving into her core perfectly, without even trying.

It was like they were made for each other.

“More…oh, more…”

“Yes.. yes, more… everything you want, baby. Everything you need from me. Everything.” He whispered into her ear, giving justice to all her fantasies from before. “Sing for me, my angel.”

Heaven is not a place. Heaven is a person.

And Jason was hers as much as she was his.

***

When she woke up next morning at first she couldn’t recognise the place she was in. But the sheets smelled like him and she smiled to herself, remembering the last night, what they did, how many times and in how many ways they explored their bodies, breaking the laws of biomechanics and flexibility in the process. Who would have thought that you can fit as many things in such little amount of time.

There was still this pleasurable tingling on her skin in the places where he kissed and touched and devoured her. Hopefully he felt the same given all the crazy things she did for him.

And speak of the devil, her night-time hero walked right through the door with a sleepy expression on his face and with the perfect bedhead, curls falling into his face.

“No breakfast?” she teased, noticing his empty hands “what happened to treating me like a queen?”

“Hm…” Jason muttered in response, blushing ever so slightly “are you asking for more of it? I’m more than ready for it, but figured you’d still like to walk…”

She laughed a little when he jumped on the bed next to her, resting head on arms, looking at her lovingly, melting her heart.

“Hey Jason….”

“Hey yourself, pretty one…”

“Look, I…” she sighed not sure what to do now and how to figure out her own feelings. Jason was clearly head over heels for her and slowly, the guilt and remorse that she had only used him in the moment of weakness and body talk, started creeping in.

“Sh. You don’t need to say a thing.”

“But…”

“Not a thing, Y/N.” he said again, propping himself up and kissing her temple “I’m just glad you’re here with me. I don’t really need much more…”

Liar.

Of course he wanted more. He wanted her to love him back, to be his one and only, to have her exclusively, to be her boyfriend, with the tiniest amount of luck. But on the other hand he was also desperate and would settle for any scrap of her affection that was more than friend-like. Hoping that with the right amount of patience (which he lacked), stubbornness (which he had in excess) and caring he would get the same confession out of her in the future.

@lightwing-s

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd smut #red hood smut #jason todd x y/n #red hood x y/n #jason todd x you #red hood x you #jason todd fanfiction #red hood fanfiction #dc smut #neighbour!jason todd

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dilfl0v3rss · 1 year

Text

love you better

summary: connie’s gotten sick of watching you hold back from getting full happiness, so he handled it.

(i do not speak spanish, but i’m trying my best. plss don’t kill me yall)

cw: cheating, readers dad is a deadbeat…

word count: 1.3k

(ay coño/oh fuck. el muchacho es un jablador/the boy is a liar. mamagüevo/cock-sucker. no me estés divariando, respóndeme la pregunta/stop talking gibberish, answer the question)

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────

“ay coño. you keep ridin my dick like that and ima have t’marry you ‘kay?” connie moaned, heavy hand repeatedly squeezing and slapping your ass as you continued to ride him in reverse. your hands wrapped firmly around his ankles as you worked your body in ways he loved. on late nights like this one it was normal for the two of you to smoke each other out and make each other feel good, letting the good vibes of the day carry on into the night.

“m’cummin again pa” you quietly breathed out as you began to bounce your ass harder, tattood hands spreading you open to get a better view of the sin being committed by the two of you. “give it t’me mama. let papi have it” connie groaned before throwing his head back in the pillows. the way your ass moved on his dick was heavenly as your walls continued to get wetter and wetter around him. there was nothing that could possibly make this moment any more perfect.

*ring ring* the sound of your phone snatched him out of his bliss, making a mean mug appear before he snatched it from its spot next to him. “j-jus leave it da fuck m’so close” you continued your ministrations, oblivious to the evil grin the man behind you adorned as he looked at your phone. notification after notification from your ridiculously toxic boyfriend. connies been telling you to leave him, but there was always an excuse. “he was all i had at one point” “my family loves him and ion wanna upset them” “he said she was just his best friend”. you always had an excuse for this dickheads actions, letting him slide for shit like forgetting your anniversary all the way to blatantly cheating on you with his “girl best friend” which made him want to beat his ass.

you felt that you were no better, given your situation, so you chose to just stay and bare with it to keep up this stupid appearance for your family. your mom used to be with a man like connie and look where it got her. raising you as a single mother, trying her hardest to keep you far away from men like your father so you didn’t end up just like her. when you first brought your boyfriend home she was so happy, as were the rest of your family. you knew connie was different though. he gave you a happiness your boyfriend could never bring you. catering not only to your body, but your heart and soul as well. he was who you knew you should be with in the end, but your family would never accept him because of his lifestyle.

you were terrified about how your family would look at you if they found out you’ve switched out being with the golden, grade a student to fornicate with the big bad “thug” from the other side of town. “el muchacho es un jablador, mami. he don’t deserve you.” connie said before grabbing a blunt from the bedside table, putting fire to it as it sat between his pretty lips. “you know how my family is. they not..fuck..not fond of men like y-you” he rolled his eyes, giving you a rough snap of his hips to make you lose your balance.

a pretty cry flew from your lips, hands squeezing around his ankles while making a sly smirk appear on his face. “men like me huh?” he mimicked you. before he could add on to it, he was interrupted by your phone ringing again. ‘must be a sign to handle this shit once and for all’ connie thought before quietly picking it up and laying it down on the bed next to him. you were of course oblivious to this as you let him maneuver you into the backshot position. he grabbed the phone with one hand, placing it at his ear while he pushed your back down with his other hand. “m’not helping you ma, throw that shit back and work for this nut.” you quickly listened to his demand while he continued on the phone. “yo?….yea she here man. lil busy tho but she present” a chuckle rumbled from his chest as he listened to your frustrated boyfriend on the other line. “don’t worry about why i got her phone mamagüevo. just be glad she safe and feeling good”

you were so busy fucking your self on his dick that you didn’t even recognize that he was talking to your boyfriend on the phone. pretty whines falling from your lips as you continued to move your ass back and forth on his long dick. you reached back for connie and all he did was laugh at your weak attempt, pushing your back down to deepen your arch. all of your moans flew loose in the comfort of his room. “please help j-jus a little bit. like when you hit my spot daddy” you clenched around him, continuing to move your hips just how he likes so he could fold. connie could never get enough of you. and he knew you were just as in love and crazy for him. he’ll be damned if he had to spend another night listening to you cry and blame yourself for the actions of a bitch like your “boyfriend”.

connie moved the phone towards your mouth. this was the end of your suffering. “yea? like when papi fuck you like this?” his hips began to move, dick touching you in a sweetest places while he smiled. listening to your pretty moans. “aauughh yesss jus like that papi shittt” your wetness began to spread all over him, strings of your previous releases connecting the two of you with wet squelches. “uhh huh. let em hear you ma” let who here what? your brain finally starting working properly after you heard yelling coming from somewhere.

“you not furreal…you cheating on me bro?!” you whipped your head around in horror. connie just continued to fuck you with a proud look on his face. feeding you deep strokes as he held the phone in front of your face. “i-i..” he rolled his eyes before snapping his hips into you harder. your scream was pornographic as you began to forget all about your boyfriend on the phone. “ughh ‘i-i’….no me estés divariando, respóndeme la pregunta, mami.”

his heavy hand landed on your ass, bringing you back to reality before you continued with your previously forgotten sentence. “ion think t-this gon work out shittt” you spoke as normal as you could, but it wasn’t normal enough. you could basically feel the anger coming from your phone as your now ex boyfriend threw curses and insults your way. “you dirty bitch. you think your family gon be proud after they find out you gave up being wit me for some thug’s dick?” while he spoke connie kissed up your back, stopping at your neck before whispering dirty words to you.

“you like this ‘thug’ dick don’t you girl? like when daddy makes you feel good and gives you what you want?” he deepened his strokes, laying one hand flat on the bed next to you while his other continued to hold the phone speaker towards your ear. “i-i love him and my family gon have to…fuckk… have to accept it or they gon end up jus l-like you, cut off.” your words surprised connie, making his dick even harder before kissing and sucking behind your ear and neck. “y-you need me…i was all you had, remember? you fatherless, selfish slut” he mumbled the last sentence, but connie still heard him. he was trying his hardest to hurt you with his words, but there’s no way in hell connie was letting that happen. chuckling while moving the phone from your face before taking it off speaker and holding it to his ear.

“i’m her daddy now bitch”

#aot x black reader #aot connie #connie springer #aot smut #connie x black!reader #connie smut #connie x black reader #connie springer smut #connie springer x black reader #connie springer x black!reader #aot connie x black reader #aot connie x black!reader #connie x black y/n

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visionsofmagic · 5 months

Text

they like to share you. ✭ 2 ✭

➤ bi han, kuai liang, tomas [lin kuei brothers]

・゜✭・. part 2 out of 2 | previous | m.

✧.* nsfw, mdni!, f!reader, gang bang, edging, pet names, humiliation, degradation, roughness, cruelty, double penetration, hair pulling, begging, crying, oral > m! receiving & f! receiving, overstimulation, anal sex, oral sex, orgasm control, claiming, biting, size difference, clothes on/off, praising, cumming, no protection, exhibitonism, watching, sloppy kissing, lin kuei brothers being lin kuei brothers, ‘s all I guess? • wc: 4.8k • roses’ notes: oh, this is the most horny shit I have ever wrote & I hope it is good enough because I was (s)creaming as I read it over and over again lol, and it contains a huge tag list full of nsfw content. just bear this horny thing with me while having fun. enjoy! [can do part 3 if you want to! *kiss*]

≛ you have no idea how you end up in a situation like the one you’re in now – it would be a lie if you said you had never imagined it. the dreams of being in this right moment wandered around your mind. they didn’t reach this far, but there were the times you tried not to think about it, breaking yourself while clenching your thighs together, the sin taking you as a whole and eating you alive; however now, it is the most sinful thing you’re doing contrary to simply dreaming about it. until this exact moment, you couldn’t believe you would face such sin – yet, every nerve of your body screamed that it was the most extraterrestrial feeling you have ever felt.

it’s not the sin of being a naughty woman who thinks about the lin kuei brothers shamelessly – every single night, until she gets it, no, it’s the sin that carves into your body within the soul.

it’s not the sin that eats you alive either, no, it’s tomas – the most precious boy you have known, having a heartwarming personality thanks to his nature of being innocent and gentle, especially when it comes to you but when you look into his eyes as his head stays between your thighs that can crush him any time soon (which he will take gladly), tongue going in and out of your pussy that soaking wet into his face and neck. only the sight of it can make you cum into his face but you try to hold it, eyes directed into his that are full of tears of having your greedy pussy as the way he needs, a reflection of you the proof of the sin that has just started.

and being eaten, sucked, and licked by tomas is not the only thing you’re getting.

as you pump yourself harder into his hungry mouth, wanting him to drow with your taste, feeling a bit need of dominance manner, you throw your head back when kuai liang pinchs your hardened nipples, not paying attention to how his younger brother lies on the bed, you’re above him, heat is flowing in your veins, making you feel another sense of exposeness while being naked, completely, as they stay still with their clothes on.

“kuai liang –“ you try to say, earning another pinch at your nipple, body jolts at the action as he stays behind you, on his foot. he watches your face closely unlike bi han who is sitting on his armchair, leaning against it, one hand under his masked face, elbow resting on the side of the armchair as his cold gazes travel on three of you, watching as if there is a special show for him.

“yes, princess?” kuai liang asks, looking at how your hands get into tomas’ grey hair, pulling it and moving your hips faster – he gets that you’re close, they all do.

“I’m – I’m clos – aaaahh – tomas!”

tomas leaves a cute chuckle, proud of himself, when you can’t finish your sentence with the impact of his tongue – or the way he eats you so hungrily, as if he will die if he can’t have the lovely taste you have. his hands find your ass, pushing you further against him, the desire of being the first one who makes you cum caging him.

kuai liang, wanting to help you reach it faster, wanting to see you cum so that he can have you afterward, holds you by the chin, lifting your head up so that he can kiss you passionately, swelling your moans inside his mouth. one of your hands find his cheek, pulling him closer while the other one stays inside tomas’ hair, caressing it to find a source of steadiness when two lin kuei brothers capture you as the oldest one watches the scene before him.

when you break the kiss, moaning loudly because of being so close, you hear a voice – the one that gives a chill down your spine.

“did I allow you to do that?” bi han asks, sounding colder than ever – is he doing it on purpose? you can’t decide yet, mind is so dizzy.

“w-what?” you ask, knowing both of lin kuei brothers are also surprised at their older brother’s sudden words, eyes turning to him – all of you look at him.

he only rises an eyebrow, “did I allow you to cum?”

“but bi han –“

“but brother –“ you and tomas try to find an excuse to make him let you cum; to reach the climax you need for your part, and to be able to lick it – getting the taste of your sweet juice for tomas’ part are the reasons behind why you sound like begging.

“you will cum when I say,” then, he crosses his arms as if he isn’t the one who is edging you. looking at kuai liang’s face, he tilts his head in the direction of your body, “pick her up.”

furrowing because of being so close yet so far away from your climax, you see tomas apologizing silently, not understanding his older brother’s intentions truly until he feels kuai liang picking your body up by holding your waist and putting you down again – right on tomas’ hardened cock that you moan when your bare aching pussy touch it through the fabric of his thin training pants.

it seems kuai liang is the only one who can acknowledge the pure intentions of bi han as he whispers into your ear, hands rising up, reaching your breasts that bounce lightly with the impact of your moving hips on tomas – without giving any mind to it, just wanting to feel something.

“my love, bear it a little longer,” he says, caressing your breasts, sending a different jolt of pleasure to your body – the slow burn of it increases the fire you have inside that is ready to break free. “tomas,” he then says after taking a quick glance at bi han’s direction to see whether he is doing it right or not. “she’s ready enough.”

“are you?” tomas asks, the palms replace on your cheeks as he rises, getting closer as you sit on his lap in full display – there is a bit of shame left, the one will have vanished soon after you understand what will come next. “if you want to stop, we can – I can. just say and –“

you stop him in mid-sentence. being such a caring person, even in moments like this – maybe mostly in moments of proximity at the highest level, he wants to be sure that you want this – with your whole heart and soul. and you do. with a smile, you nod, putting a kiss on his lips, both loving and lustful, earning a few whimper sounds from the man, you hold the edge of his pants, lowering it down to free his aching cock where it stays, “please tomas –“ you say, “I need you to fill me up.”

not expecting this boldness from you, he freezes for a moment before deciding you’re in a state that all of these things they do to you – and will do soon enough, are a matter of life and death – or sin and love if you are being honest.

he holds himself from swearing when he feels your bare thighs touching the side of his cock. leaning down on his back again, he puts his hands on your waist, lowering you down step by step, so caressly that you will think that he sees you as a fragile flower.

putting your palms on his bare chest, you turn to kuai liang, eyes teary as you feel tomas thickness getting inside of your warm walls. it’s already too much but you need more – you carve more. there are lots of reasons why you’re being so nasty; first, being a whore for them as bi han uttered (how can he always be right about you?), second, you love them all, and lastly, you want to prove to them, mostly bi han, that you are capable of taking three of them – physically and spiritual.

“take them off,” comes out of your mouth as an order rather than a request, and you feel a kind of power over them when kuai liang doesn’t ask you to know your place, unlike his older brother. as he nods, a cocky smile position on his attractive face. “please.” you finish your words to be gentler but he is already taking his clothes off one by one, eyes never leaving yours, giving you a show while tomas is one step ahead of being inside of you fully.

when you see his perfect sculpture, different in shape and posture than tomas’ delicate, welcoming, and reassuring one, you can’t help but sit on tomas’ cock in one go, want him to rail you up because your mind can’t take it anymore and it’s still too early to be that dizzy! which condition will you be in when there are three of them, you ask yourself, will be there a time like that?

all your unanswered questions disappear when tomas starts moving, wanting to take your eyes off of kuai liang for a moment because he needs to see you losing your mind as he fucks you good – giving everything to you, and receiving you all.

“tomas –“ you cry his name aloud, his tip hitting deep, thickness opening you wider as he keeps pounding into you irregularly – both you and him are new to it and it makes you stay unsteady with unclear minds. he’s too lost in the taste of your pussy that clenches around his length beautifully and you’re having the highness that comes with his thick cock and heavy balls, hitting you mercilessly even when he wants to act attentive, not wanting to hurt you but it feels so good – you feel so good that he swears he is addicted to it already.

“y/n – agghh – I – fuuuagggh!” he nearly swears when he opens his eyes, never realizing he closed them in the first place, and seeing your bouncing breasts, open mouth, teary eyes which are half-closed as you watch his pleasure getting to his face visibly. your nails are scratching his neck.

“tomas! it feels so gooaggghh!” you want to say more; want him to know how good he is at making you see the starts with each thrust he is sending. you feel the amatory and desire at the same time.

“oh, is that so?” bi han’s sharp voice cuts the tension between you and tomas, earning a side eye from you as he chuckles at your attempt to dismiss his words only to feel more of what tomas is giving you.

however, there’s another lin kuei brother who seeks your attention; kuai liang whose hand is on his cock, jerking himself off at the sight of you being fucked by his younger brother, and even from that away, bi han can see how he tries to hold himself, wanting you to be the first one who recognizes his shameless acts, and allowing him to come closer. bi han thinks his brothers are acting as if you’re the most fragile flower on earth – yes you are, but not in the moment. only bi han knows how much a whore-like you can be for them from your previous moments before he decided to let it go.

that’s why he doesn’t stop talking, contrary to that, he puts his elbows on the edge of the armchair, hands united as he leans closer from where he sits, eyes on you, “then be a fucking good girl and take another needy cock in that hole of yours gladly and thank them for it, my pretty slut.”

even in a moment like this, he can’t help but be possessive over you – which makes him call you his rather than indicating that you belong to three of them, not only bi han but who you are to judge now, especially after being a fucktoy for his younger brothers after desiring it for a long time.

tears flow down your face as you keep bouncing on tomas’ cock, already too lost in the high that feels like you take a dozen of aphrodisiacs. the power they hold over you cannot be prevented, you don’t want either, so, you nod with obedience, holding yourself together enough to reach for kuai liang’s hand. putting his warm hand on your abdomen, you make him come closer while listening tomas’ whimpers and low moans that he leaves with great shyness – unlike his brothers, he’s the most closed one when it comes to expressing his feelings and thoughts loudly.

he’s more open when there are only two of you. however, you can say that he’s close to breaking when you begin to talk with kuai liang between your moans.

“let me, fire boy,” you say, smirking down at him as you start jerking him off, making him get ready. another sense of pleasure strolls through your body when kuai liang leaves a growl – it’s more animalistic than you can ever imagine, and its effects become visible on you too when he pumps his cock into your fist without thinking, only using pure instincts. you begin to think how you will handle not only tomas’ thick cock but also kuai liang’s that stands with all its glory; warm inside your palm, leaking precum, and twitching at the sight of your ass.

seeing his younger brother’s cock disappearing and appearing again as he fucks you creates a flame in kuai liang because now he can see what bi han was talking about – how he didn’t realize what his brother meant by calling you a slut for them in the first place, but now, he is witnessing it; he sees how you look at his veined cock while taking tomas’ cock. it’s clear that you want him to join.

and who he is to decline your silent offer? he can fight a hundred men if you want him to – but he can’t stop when he has you – they have you. he’s a gentle lover, he really is. maybe he cannot show it as delicate as tomas’ love or as cruel as bi han’s. he knows you don’t seek it too. you have fallen for them for who they are, and kuai liang burns with the desire to show how his love is by claiming you as theirs.

feeling tomas’ cock on your abdomen, he loses his mind, and the last logical thing in his mind is to go easy on you as he makes his way to filling your empty hole.

“pff,” he hears bi han’s scoff mocking his cowardly acts; still holding himself back from waiting until you cum and relax a little bit. he looks into your begging eyes when bi han adds, “just fuck her already. I can say that she’s a step ahead of begging even from this far,” then, he chuckles lowly, “oh maybe you should stay a bit longer brother. her begging is pretty delightful to hear. isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

closing your eyes, a tear drops onto your face but it stops on your cheek when kuai liang puts his palm on your face, cleaning it with such tenderness that you open your eyes again. not crying because of bi han’s words, no, they only add more pleasure, you let kuai liang put a few kisses on your forehead, assuring you that it will be fine – it will be euphoric and you believe him.

nodding, you turn your face to tomas after saying, “do what you want with me baby. I can take it.” to kuai liang.

leaving yourself at his mercy, you put your hand on tomas’ chest again, feeling his heartbeat under your fingertips, tickling the skin because of how fast it is going up and down in sync with his cock that can break you into two if he wants to. “fuuuccckk – yes, yes!” you scream in joy, evoking wildness in them without knowing, too occupied with yourself and tomas’ cock that keeps hitting your sweet spots over and over again after he earns the most beautiful sound out of you. “there! fuuucckk tomas – so good, please, please, baby – keep aggghhh keeeep fucking me like that!”

“of course, of course, my goddess –“ tomas sounds as if he’s at the edge of crying thanks to your own pleasure. the man under you flying in the sky not only because he’s fucking you, but also because every part of your body shouts out that he’s very good at it. he finds a greater saturation with your delight. “anything for my favorite lady – agghhh – anything for you!”

after a time, you can’t tell how much because the acknowledgment of time has stopped working, you feel kuai liang’s lips touching your ear, his voice gets under your skin as he says, a hand on your back, pushing you onto tomas’ chest, “I am so sorry,” you don’t understand the true meaning behind his speech, you just arch your back slowly, hands position on the sides of tomas head, hardened nipples touch his chest, and a curse with loud whimpers escape from the man under you. “I tried to hold myself but I can’t help but be a slave to my itching desire to hear you moan my name as you did for tomas.”

realization hits you when your whole body connects with tomas’, making his cock go deeper and reach the places neither of you can expect. two of you are a mess like that; slow thrusts, moans, sweats, and looking at kuai liang’s eyes, having orange colored flames in them.

tomas’ breathes on your neck, chest to chest, you watch kuai liang’s fingers disappear behind you, and you arch your back when they get into your empty hole. putting your forehead between tomas’ neck and shoulder, you bite your own lips, a painful moan comes from you, making tomas look at you worriedly. “brother!” he warns his older brother, palm capturing the side of your face, caressing it so that you can relax between his arms that he wraps around your smaller body – he’s the most protective one among his brothers. “you’re hurting her – you should stop –“

“it’s okay tomas,” you say, kissing his chin to show that you mean it, and kuai liang is already gone, fingers never stopping, adding another one to get you ready sooner. the pain is more receivable now, mixed with the excitement of taking kuai liang behind. new tears appear on your face after kuai liang takes his fingers out of your now wider hole, hands on your hips, positioning you to stay still as his tip gets into you slowly. “I can – aggh! I can take him – too!”

“shhh –“ tomas says, trying to hold you still to help his brother. there is no selfishness in tomas’ heart for sharing you with his older brothers. he knows how they need you like they need air to breathe – and at some point, he believes they need you more than that to keep themselves alive – to keep living. “everything will be fine, pretty lady,” he puts kisses on wherever he can reach; cheeks, forehead, nose, chin, shoulder – wherever your body need to calm down. “just a bit longer to get used to.”

you trust in him more than you do for yourself; and his words’ rightness comes into life after kuai liang thrusts in and out of your hole, making it get used to his thick length, and in the end, you find yourself begging him – begging them to go harder, deeper, and rougher.

bi han’s mocking can be hearable that you can’t care less, “told you how a slut she really is, taking both of your cocks that gladly.” you’re focused on taking them so good that an unspoken fact fills the air completely; they will never get rid of you – this – yes, both tomas and kuai liang love the sincere and tender bond they have with you, yes, they love you entirely and this is beyond their strength of staying away from you for your own good – no, they cannot even spend a minute without you being there for them after this. they will carve for more; bi han isn’t the only one who will do anything to have you beside him.

you don’t know whose name is leaving your dry, half-opened mouth; you don’t care either. nonetheless, it’s obvious whatever you say is enough for them to fuck you deeper, rougher, and harder because when your back connects with kuai liang’s chest that burns with the hottest temperature, hands holding tomas’ thick arms, they begin to thrust into you at the same time rather than going in and out one by one, one of the lin kuei brothers’ cock filling you up as the other one is leaving its place so that you will not break into pieces.

and you swear it feels better – not better, no, the best in this way; they leave your holes alone, aching for another thrust, and as if they can hear your holes – your pussy and ass begging loudly, they thrust into you back, filling you up fully.

kuai liang whose palms stay on your hips fucks you rougher than tomas, having an animalistic wildness with his fucking, growling and moaning into your ear lowly, biting your shoulder from time to time; sending overstimulation over your body and taking a branch to hold on to so that he can stay as rational as he can – it’s just that his own fist wasn’t enough, as he realizes, and unlike your mouth, your hole that clenches around his length something else – and he cannot imagine how your pussy would feel. he has pure envy over his younger brother but tomas needs to be the first one after bi han as kuai liang proposed when bi han told them that you would be ready for them, and he could never be more right.

tomas is sky high – its marks are on his focused face that lightened up with lust and sin, and a great amount of love. his hands on your thighs, holding them tight, probably leaving red marks like how kuai liang’s hands will on your hips, wanting to act normally but can’t; his cock is intoxicated with the taste of your pussy that creamed it like his entire body that is intoxicated with you fully. it’s beyond his own imagination – and he will have this moment in his mind until his last breath. the cute lin kuei brother has a habit of daydreaming about you and the memories you have shared; every detail is in his mind.

tomas’ obsession over you is not a joke, and being pathetic – a mess for you proves it right – his love is no less than his brothers and he can say you witness it when he begs for you to let him cum inside your womb.

“my goddess, please, please, let me – aaaghh I – I – I need it – ohhh, hmmpp! let me cum i-inside!”

before you reply to his begs, you hear kuai liang saying the same thing as he holds you by the chin, fingers pushing down the flesh under them, taking a lick from your neck, “yes, princess, will you? say yes, please, pretty love, let us cum inside – agggh – gggh – need it! right, tomas? we need it.”

“tomas – aggghh k- kuai liang – I –“

you are stopped by the oldest lin kuei brother whose presence is beginning to know by all three of you when you turn to the side and see him standing up with all his glory; the mask is no longer on his face, a hand on his belt, furrowing down at you, eyes directed at yours, sending vibration of danger, “haven’t I teach you to ask for it? I know my brothers are too lost to think straight but, you,” his fingers touch your chin, turning your head to him entirely, taking all of your focus on him as his younger brothers keep fucking you without stopping even for a second – they simply can’t, you suppose.

“my beautiful slut,” he humiliates you by making you clench around two cocks you are taking and sending a jolt to the owners of them, “isn’t it enough that you cum undone without my permission that you will let them cum inside without asking for it?”

“w-what?” you question, spending some time to understand it and looking down, you see your cream–wetness shining on their cocks. when you cum undone? fuck, how much your brain fucked up by them?! “I – I am so sorry bi han, I didn’t know – aggghh – fuck – I didn’t –“ words of forgiveness go into deaf ears as bi han lowers his head, and without a second thought, he begins to kiss your lips as if he tries to prove the rightful owner of them – and your aching lips asks for more, tongue darting inside his mouth, and he lets you – his cruelty vanishes for a moment as he makes love with you by using his cold lips that get warmer within yours.

“mhhhhpp – bi han – aahhhh –“ coldness hits your breasts when he cups them and plays with each one of them attentively.

“well, one of your holes is still empty, right?” he leaves you, unzipping his belt and taking his pants off until it reaches his thick thighs, showing his hardened cock as it hits his abdomen. he smirks when you open your mouth wider even though he doesn’t ask you for it – it’s like an instinct now. you watch him put his knees on the bed, not looking at how pathetic his brothers look as they wait for you two to be done.

“good girl.” bi han praises you when your lips wrap around his length, mouth taking it so well as always and he keeps his praising after you begin to work on his cock, a hand gripping his thigh to pull him closer, to have it all inside your greedy mouth. his right-hand finds your hair, caressing it firstly, then pulling it roughly, “fucking good girl – taking my cock like that –“ he then chuckles at the sight in front of him; tomas fucking crying under you as he keeps edging himself, eyes beg for a release, and kuai liang losing the last crumbles of his mind as he pounds into your mercilessly.

looking down at you, he sees your shining eyes looking at both his cock full of veins and leaking your salvia mixing with his precum, and he curses underneath his breath; you’re his obedient slut as he tells but in addition to that, you belong to him – long before you have fallen for his brothers. it boosts its ego. “taking my brothers’ cocks as well. tell me, are they good, hm?”

“y-yes,” you say, moans low, strong, audible, “they’re too good – I – fuuuuck – I want them to cu-cum – into me.”

“oh, is that so?” he questions, knowing there’s only one thing he needs to do; so, he does it. shutting your please by filling your mouth again, this time rougher than before, he fucks your mouth with the way his brothers fuck your other two holes; “then, let us all cum into you at the same time. after all, you are made for me,” he adds, “for us.”

humming, you nod, sucking, licking, and drinking him off, and at the same time, you cum again – alerting for them to cum as well and it seems that it happens all of sudden – they cum in sync after a few more powerful thrusts that they send to your very core and hole – and wasn't it hold of them on you, you would collapse into the void after you tomas cum into your pussy, kuai liang explodes into your ass, and bi han filling your mouth fully.

with the last rope to unite you with reality, you drink every drop of bi han’s semen, lin kuei’s cum fills your womb beautifully.

collapsing into tomas’ arms, your whole body aches, exhaustion hitting, mouth dry, and except that, every place on your body is covered with wetness. you don’t feel any regret, contrary to that, it seems you have made the right decision of your lifetime.

the fear that is not acknowledged by you vanishes in thin air as tomas speak into your ear, “my goddess, you did so well for us. now, rest, and don’t worry, we will take good care of you.”

and with that promise and the trust you have for lin kuei brothers, you fall into his chest closer as the sweet ropes of sleep cover your body. the last thing you remember is how much you find yourself lucky to have them.

595 notes · View notes

jenscx · 5 months

Text

LET ME IN — yu jimin x f!reader

you return to your hometown after being overseas for years. there was no possible way for you to anticipate your old high school sweetheart waiting at the airport.

TAGS — angst, little fluff, exes to lovers, happy ending, high school sweetheart, cursing

WORDCOUNT — 5.1k

the sweater that you had picked out today, feels unfamiliar on your skin. it’s the one which reads, ‘seniors of 2018’. it’s the one you had never gone near, leaving it to rot in your closet. it’s the one that holds the most painful memories for you. how could a piece of clothing cause you so much pain?

frankly, you know why. it’s the one jimin had given to you as you left for the train to the airport. “something to remember me by,” she had stated after pulling it over the top of your head.

you had huffed, playfully asking, “how could i ever forget you?”

your closet had witnessed your stares— or rather glares at the sweater. not until an hour had passed, when you finally heaved a sigh and grabbed it off the hanger that was situated at the corner of the closet. it’s just because it’s comfortable, you had reasoned before. and it didn’t matter what you wore underneath the puffer jacket, it would end up covered.

of course, these were all excuses, trying to deny the very fact that it just reminded you of jimin. and you were very welcoming towards such reminders.

reminders of what?

you shake your head, picturing a blank canvas before the melodic laughter filled your ears. jimin’s laugh.

the screeching of your luggage’s wheels distract you. aeri’s standing at the door, a hand on your suitcase.

“hey girl,” she checks the watch on her wrist, “we gotta go. flight’s at 2.”

you nod, ignoring the fact that you had spent almost two whole hours thinking about the repercussions of returning back to… home? could you even call it that?

aeri seems to notice your inner turmoil, since in the taxi, she places a comforting hand over yours, sending you a small smile. while it didn’t really settle your nerves, you appreciated the effort nonetheless.

the journey to the boarding gate is like a fever dream. your airpods betraying you, randomly shuffling to a girls’ generation song. it was like a cry back to the past, when you and jimin would listen to girls’ generation songs together.

for jimin, you had complied.

you open your eyes, you can only see the back of someone’s head above the aeroplane’s seat. if you keep your eyes closed for too long, you might start to envision a blur of jimin’s perfect eyes, her nose, her lips that were always pursed in disappointment when she caught you and minjeong stealing her snacks…

the realisation that you can’t remember the face that once made you the happiest girl on the planet hits hard. it hits harder than the guilt and misery you felt when jimin, a week after you had left korea, sent a flurry of messages that went unresponded.

“i didn’t know you liked girls’ generation,” aeri comments. startled, you stare at your phone, the lock screen wallpaper being jimin’s back displaying girls’ generation’s holiday night baseball t-shirt. the girl had forced you to buy matching ones with her, you recall bitterly.

“i don’t,” you answer coolly, swiftly turning off your phone. aeri eyes you weirdly but eventually lets you off the hook and leans back into her seat.

the rest of the thirteen hours flight, you busy yourself with work— leftovers from the time before break, drafts of sketches, thesis statements and long-winded essays. while a plane was not the best environment to finish a full drawing, you could at least make some rough sketches. somehow, your pencil graphite gravitates from sturdy, concrete buildings to soft cheekbones, hooded eyes, pouty lips.

shit, you blink, taking in your subconscious sketch of a woman, familiar to your past.

almost instantly shutting your sketchbook shut, you ignore the implications of what your mind was telling you. the crew neck sweater itches at your neck. it’s almost like the words embroidered on the cotton burn into your heart, to always make you remember and recall the time before messy relationships, longing feelings and just enjoying the present time.

time. you didn’t have much of it anyway.

maybe this trip would allow you to make peace with the past. you wouldn’t flinch whenever your friends would talk about league of legends champion, ‘katarina’, or you wouldn’t immediately decline movie night with aeri in fear that one of the actresses would look eerily similar to jimin.

allowing your brain to wander past your comfort zone, you wonder what she's doing now. was she a flight stewardess? did she manage to finally get better at pubg? was her favourite colour still blue? did she still have that sparkle in her eyes when food was brought up?

the last thought makes you chuckle, reminiscing how excited jimin was whenever food was involved. when yizhuo would bring back mala snacks from china, jimin would be gone in a flash.

(so would yizhuo’s snacks, you can’t count the number of times you were forced to lie about who the perpetrator was.

maybe it was worth it when jimin would beam at you, flashing a bright smile that rivalled the shine of diamonds).

with bittersweet memories, you drift off. sleepless nights made up for, by just giving yourself permission to think about her.

you dream of crashing waves, two people on the shore, just sitting down and gazing at the scenery. the sunset’s everlasting in this timeline. like time doesn’t exist and all they did was stare at the deep ocean.

before you even get to see their faces, the announcement rings throughout the flight.

you sigh deeply, catching the attention of aeri.

“you okay? you slept so soundly, i thought you died,” the japanese girl asks worriedly. you laugh, it was the best sleep you ever got, and it was on an aeroplane.

strange how our consciousness works.

“i’m good,” this time you weren’t lying.

you stare at the glass doors, wondering if minjeong had told anyone else to come fetch you. it wasn’t a far fetched thought, maybe the girl had asked yizhuo to come as well. the chinese girl would kill minjeong if she didn’t tell her about your arrival back in korea after what? three, almost four years?

“hey, i asked my friend to pick us up and she might have brought someone else,” you warn aeri.

“oh that’s fun… why do you sound so scared?”

“because, the other girl is a little overbearing,” you scoff, “she might try to climb you, just a warning.”

aeri widens her eyes as you two drag your luggage to the gates.

she gapes, “no kidding? is she a koala or something?”

“something like that,” you shrug.

the doors open. it’s your first step (not really) into korea. the air is the same anywhere else, but the feeling isn’t.

it’s the feeling of uncertainty. the feeling of fear. aeri clasps your free hand tightly in hers, sensing your hesitance.

your gaze glides over the crowd of people waiting for their own family. aeri makes a noise of recognition and she pulls you to the side, you finally spot someone familiar.

“minjeong…!” you call out, voice going silent at the sight of a girl that is most definitely not minjeong.

it’s not yizhuo either, that’s for sure.

“did minjeong get plastic surgery or something?”

you want to run.

“because… that’s not— that’s not minjeong,” you whisper, “that’s yu jimin.”

aeri deadpans, “you say that like i know who the hell she is.”

you want to kill minjeong. and maybe jimin wants to kill aeri with how hard she’s glaring at her.

jimin only trots slowly towards you.

jimin’s eyes dart from aeri’s face back to yours, her hard, cold gaze trailing down to your sweater that has come uncovered by the puffer jacket. your eyes narrow when she raises an eyebrow at you, as if asking you, “why are you wearing that?”

you don’t answer her, because you don’t know either.

“i’m jimin, y/n’s—”

“friend,” you interrupt, quickly turning away to avoid the flash of hurt on jimin’s face.

the mentioned girl recovers quickly, putting on a fake smile, “classmate of y/n from high school.”

“i’m uchinaga aeri, y/n’s roommate, thank you for picking us up!” aeri grins widely, ignoring the deadly lasers pointing her way.

“where are you staying, if i may ask?” jimin’s sharp tone doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

“with y/n—”

you cover aeri’s mouth, knowing how jimin gets, “it’s none of your business.”

your roommate makes a noise of indignation and licks a long strip across your palm. you groan, taking it off her mouth and wiping it on her jacket.

“that’s so gross,” you mutter in english.

“your english has gotten better,” jimin notes as the three of you walk to her car.

you don’t know what to say, so you stay silent.

“where do you stay, jimin-ssi?” aeri makes small talk to cover up the awkward silence. you thank her internally.

jimin stares at you through the mirror, “with y/n.”

you bite your lip, nervous at what jimin might say next. you had never told aeri about your complicated relationship with jimin and you didn’t plan to. only because of kim minjeong meddling in, now it seems like everything has to be uncovered again.

“she’s a bad roommate, right?” surprisingly, aeri ignores jimin’s statement and instead continues to complain about you.

you’re shocked, to say the least. you thought aeri would have started blabbing and asking probing questions about your past roommate situation. or maybe she noticed your sullen look.

“i thought four years would have been enough for her to change her bad habits,” jimin says.

you know for a fact she isn’t talking about the same thing as aeri. jimin was even worse than you as a roommate; eating your secret snack stash, never cleaning up the pile of laundry she had in her room and always invading your alone time in bed.

“many things have changed,” you mumble, “i’m not the same as before.”

the car goes silent, jimin probably analysing your words while aeri pouts, confused by the strange tension you had with your so-called friend.

“if you desire something enough, you’d want it to stay the same forever.”

you retort, “change is inevitable.”

aeri says quietly in the corner, “i know the guy who said that, his name is like john, or something.”

struggling to keep your laughter silent, you splutter in aghast at aeri’s sudden general knowledge.

“you’re so strange,” you comment.

aeri laughs, “i know, but you like me for that, right?”

(“—only had a brain the size of a walnut, that’s why the stegosaurus was one of the dumbest dinosaurs!” jimin reads out loud from your bed.

you stand at your vanity, finishing up your skincare, trying not to laugh at jimin’s absurd dinosaur facts, “you’re so weird.”

“you like that about me though?”)

you sense how intimate the conversation feels for the both of you, so you stop answering aeri and instead focus on jimin. her grip on the steering wheel has tightened significantly, eyes burning with something you can’t identify.

“you’re being annoying again, go to sleep or something, it’s a long drive from here to my house—” you halt in the middle of your sentence, finally questioning the very fact of… why?

why is yu jimin here? even if minjeong asked her to, why? the jimin you knew would never do this. the jimin you knew would never give up her sleeping time just to fetch an old friend, who she maybe had something going on with, and a stranger? yizhuo had friends from china who were visiting, and even then, jimin refused to fetch them from the airport. she was the only one in your friend group with a licence so it only made sense to ask her.

you try to bury yourself in the sweater even more. it was fine for now. seeing jimin in the flesh. but maybe you were so jet lagged that you hadn’t made sense of the situation yet.

the only sensible thing to do for now, was to let yourself escape into dreamland and wait for the morning after.

you can only anticipate it would be full of awkward silence, tension-filled gazes, hesitant actions.

it’s difficult to fall asleep. you decide to blame your insomnia on the nap you had during the flight. even when you know it’s because of the deeply asleep body, separated by a thin wall.

you’re sitting upright, staring at the unveiled moon. it’s stunning, not like the sun which literally glares. the moon is calming, easing you into the next day, all while making you feel… loneliness.

how could you feel lonely even with so many people around you?

(“do you think soulmates exist?” you had asked, curious of jimin’s take on such tales.

the girl seems taken aback, but she ultimately replies, “if they do, i think you’re mine.”)

you clench the duvet in your fists tightly, mind grasping at any other thought than of yu jimin. it’s unfortunate that you seem to enjoy the pain and torture past memories bring with how often your brain wanders through them.

maybe it’s time to come clean with yourself.

you were back in your hometown. you were staying in the same apartment as you did before you left. one that you shared with yu jimin; one that you called home.

eyes starting to become watery, you wipe them off and take a seat at your desk. if you were going to stay awake the rest of the night, might as well get work done. pulling out your sketchbook, the first page to be opened is the drawing of jimin from the flight. the realisation slaps you.

how long would it take someone to get over the love of their life?

for you, maybe eternity.

the door creaks open slightly. your head turns sharply, hand instinctively covering the drawing.

“y/n…?”

“jimin,” you inhale, “why are you still awake?”

she doesn’t bother to answer you and instead chooses to sit on your bed. once you notice the pyjamas she’s wearing, you feel daggers stab into your heart. it’s one of your many matching pyjamas with her. you hadn’t touched any of them since you left korea.

“are you dating aeri?” she asks.

you know what she’s secretly trying to ask.

“no, she’s just a friend.”

“that’s what they always say,” jimin scoffs. her tone doesn’t sit right with you.

with a sudden urge to defend your friendship with aeri, you shoot back, “i recall you saying that about lee jeno too.”

your words clearly strike a chord in jimin, her eyes widen, hurtful remarks at the tip of her tongue. yet, she merely looks away. you hate how beautiful she looks in the moonlight.

“y’know, technically we’re still dating.”

“what are you talking about?” you ask, bewildered.

jimin rolls her eyes, “we never explicitly broke up, you only ghosted me. technically we’re still together.”

“stop spouting nonsense.”

the girl only pouts in annoyance. you hate how your heartstrings tug at her cute expression. right now, yu jimin had to be anything but cute.

“and i didn’t ghost you, i was busy.” the lie slips out easily, revealing how used you are to saying it. jimin, of course, doesn’t believe you. she had never.

jimin frowns.

“you always say that too.”

she stands up, walking bit by bit closer to you. your hand grips the sketchbook protectively.

placing a hand onto the back of your chair, jimin smirks, leaning in. you hate how attractive she looks.

her now blonde locks form a curtain around your faces, preventing any outsider to peek in and see what you were doing.

“i think you’re a bad friend,” jimin claims.

“what?”

you can’t take your eyes off her fluttering eyelashes, her red nose, probably from the cold, and her eyes filled with determination.

“you lied to aeri,” she whispers, “since when were we ever just friends?”

a lump forms in your throat. your heart constricts. you can barely even say a word. you’re speechless.

“we’re barely even friends, roommates, probably,” you splutter out.

“yeah?”

“yeah.” jimin eyes you with an amused expression, lips twitching with the threat of a big, wide smile. you realise your words bid you no help, only further supplying as a challenge for jimin— for you to admit that you were more than friends. no words needed to be exchanged about that fact, but you being you, after fulfilling years of ghosting, would never admit that you harboured any sort of feelings for jimin after being the main reason why your relationship fell apart.

you would argue that your absence was just a contributing factor. the real trigger came in the form of lee jeno, a man that you could say with your whole heart and soul, you hated with every bone in your body.

after you had left, with a promise to stay in contact with jimin, you realised how hard it was to maintain your relationship status. and when jimin posted countless instagram stories of jeno, you realised again that maybe it was best to break it off.

never in the duration of your ‘ghosting stage’ had you ever told jimin the real reason for your sudden coldness. madly jealous and insecure, you decided to disappear. disappear just from jimin though.

“i’ve always been curious,” jimin pulls back from your intense gaze, “why you started being so distant, cold and indifferent. tell me, will you?”

“that’s just my personality.” a direct white lie, you decide to tell.

“i was heartbroken,” she ignores you and continues her monolouge, “my girlfriend decides to ghost me, and just me. made me think i did something wrong.”

you lick your lips, suddenly feeling your throat constrict up. no longer was this just banter, the conversation was steering into uncharted territory.

“it wasn’t just you,” you desperately argue, trying to direct the conversation away, “moving to another country isn’t easy.”

“you’re pretending our whole relationship didn’t exist. maybe in your eyes it meant nothing, but for me, it was everything. don’t you know every single day i have nightmares? the craziest thing is that all the demons in my nightmares have your smile,” jimin whispers fiercely, “and yet, i stay faithful to those nightmares, even if i wake up crying for someone who didn’t even bother answering my calls. you may have only been in the states, but it felt like you were on another planet. i was the last person to know you were coming back, even though you promised me; promised that if you were to return, i would be the first person to—”

you can’t control yourself. hearing her words makes your blood boil. the pumping of your heart only accelerates further as you lift up your hand, delivering a heavy slap across her face. how dare she? how dare she act as if everything was your fault? how could she accuse your devotion and adoration for her?

“don’t act like you’re the fucking victim, karina,” you hiss, your words even more painful than the stinging red on jimin’s cheek, “the first morning after, i sent you so many texts, barely even seen. then i see your story. were you acting when you said you were sad about me leaving? or were you happy to finally say that you don’t have a girlfriend anymore?”

jimin cradles her cheek in her hand, eyes narrowing when you finally confess the real reason. you can tell she doesn’t remember anything. her not even knowing what she did that made you feel unneeded only drives the blade deeper into your heart.

“drinking at a club with lee jeno,” you say his name with venom, voice gradually getting louder and louder. remembering that aeri’s only a few walls away, you try to control your emotions. “could you not understand how i felt— you said nothing would come between us and the first week away from home, constantly ignoring me for some guy.”

(“call me when your plane lands,” jimin said, playing with the hem of her sweater on you.

“isn’t it gonna be midnight in korea when i land?”

the girl merely chuckles, “i’ll be up all night just to hear your voice.”)

the realisation strikes you like a lightning bolt.

“this was a mistake.”

“what?”

“this… me coming back. i should have just stayed in the states but fuck, i let aeri convince me,” you run your fingers through your tousled hair, stressed. jimin was going to cause you to have white hair.

the redness on jimin’s cheek is still there. you feel slightly guilty for ruining her clear complexion.

“that was just how i coped with you leaving,” jimin explains.

you purse your lips, placing your open palms on jimin’s chest. maybe she thinks you’re about to cave in since she sighs in relief. however, instead of pulling her in, you push her until her back is touching your door.

“i don’t need an explanation, or an apology,” you say firmly, “i need time alone away from you.”

“you’ve had 4 years to yourself,” jimin states bitterly.

“i’m sorry for slapping you, but please, either show me your actions matching your words, or just get out of my life for good.”

jimin sighs again, this one full of exasperation.

“go,” you mutter under your breath.

the knife drives deep into your already ruined heart as you push her away. the girl scoffs, grasping your open palms into her hands, intertwining your fingers.

“if you insist on pushing me away, i’ll get rid of any possibility of us being together again. just let me into your heart again,” she throws your hands away and slams the door. the loud bang echoes in your ears, but not as loudly as her words. it only takes a few seconds for you to collapse onto the floor, sobs wrecking your whole body.

“morning,” aeri yawns, “i heard a loud bang last night, was that you or is your apartment haunted?”

you drizzle maple syrup onto your stacked pancakes, sending a bittersweet smile to your friend. your night was spent tossing and turning, both guilt and anger consuming you. when the clock ticked at four in the morning, you finally let yourself think about how jimin made you feel. even if she went to drink right after you left, you should have communicated with her instead of ghosting her. you knew for a fact that she was heartbroken based on the numerous texts your friends had sent you.

fuck, you groan into your pillow. getting up from your bed, your eyes roam the room, eventually landing on the sketchbook at your desk. you never finished that drawing on the plane. after considering (or more likely procrastination), you sit down, pouring your hours and feelings into your drawings. countless of them filled up the sketchbook’s pages. the drawings’ subjects all looked eerily similar to jimin. her pointed nose, soft gaze were all captured in the pages. you finally come to terms with it. you were still in love with her. after all, she was your only muse. thinking about her words from before, you knew that she meant them. spending years waiting for someone who was basically a ghost couldn’t have been easy.

you were going to do something about it.

barely getting any sleep last night, you woke up earlier than usual and decided to prepare breakfast. aeri had woken up an hour after, stomach growling and eyes gleaming at the pancakes.

“by the way,” she says, mouth full of pancake, “i’m meeting up with a friend today and she’s bringing someone too. wanna go with me on a double date?”

fate must be messing with you since right as aeri says the words ‘double date’, yu jimin walks in. her hair tousled, puffed cheeks and eyes narrowing. you stiffen, focusing on picking at your pancakes instead. unbeknownst to you, once jimin spots the lone plate of breakfast on the counter, her gaze softens.

“do you know who your friend’s bringing…?” you whisper softly, trying not to catch the attention of jimin.

aeri, although you love her, says in the loudest voice possible, “somi will be your date! i think she’s your type.”

the scraping of the metal fork makes you squeeze your eyes shut, mentally preparing for jimin’s outburst.

“so-mi,” jimin clicks her tongue.

aeri nods, stuffing her face with more food.

she turns to you, “and you’re going on a date with her?”

“double date with me,” aeri clarifies, “don’t worry jimin-ssi, i’ll be there to protect y/n! y’know in college i always had to pick y/n up from her bad dates. her taste in guys suck.”

“seems like her taste in girls has been downgraded,” jimin comments, smirking. you roll your eyes, wanting nothing more than for her to shut up. aeri guffaws, taking out her phone. “i’ll show you somi’s instagram account and you can decide for yourself, y/n,” she says.

you nod, deciding not to say anything in case jimin flares up. somi’s very pretty, anyone would agree. she had her own attractive style and seemed really confident. you liked that. aeri wasn’t wrong to say that somi was your type. it was just unfortunate that your heart was in the hands of another girl.

while scrolling on aeri’s phone, her alarm rings, reading, ‘brunch with yunny.’

“ah! yunjin wanted to meet earlier, just the two of us,” aeri smiles, “text me later if you wanna join!” she stands up from the table. you’re astonished by how fast she managed to finish those pancakes, her stack was evidently taller than yours. jimin glances at you, amazed as well.

“did she inhale those…?”

“i’ve got no fucking clue,” you mumble, digging into your own. jimin only chuckles and you hate how it makes your heart clench up in affection.

the silence is deafening. without aeri, the air thickens with tension between you and jimin, filled with nostalgia and regret. it feels just like last time— you and jimin eating breakfast together at that very same table, giggling about whatever trouble your friends got into the previous day.

“hey, about yesterday—”

“it’s fine,” you interrupt, “is your cheek okay?”

jimin swallows hard, “yes, it doesn’t hurt at all.”

“don’t lie, come here,” you instruct, “i’ve known you for so long, you can’t lie to me.”

she just laughs, showing you the slightly bruised side of her face. you feel guilt wreck you. no matter how angry you were, you shouldn’t have laid a hand on her.

“did you ice it?”

jimin shakes her head. you sigh, getting up and taking an ice pack out of the freezer. it’s too easy for you to return to past habits, moving around the kitchen like it was 2018 and jimin was the love of your life (she still is). wrapping the ice pack in a towel, you inch closer to jimin, holding it to her cheek. she winces slightly and you resist the urge to hold her hand in comfort.

“y/n…”

“hm?”

the girl seems so small now— her posture deflated, eyes barely meeting yours, biting her lip nervously. you have a feeling you know what she’s about to ask.

“are you going on that date with soyoung?” you laugh loudly, catching jimin off guard.

“jimin, her name’s somi.”

pouting, jimin turns away from you, making your hand falter. “hey, i need to ice your face.”

“i won’t let you unless you answer my question.” she’s so childish it’s adorable. the tension has gone, now filled with uncertainty instead.

“i don’t have anyone to spend the afternoon with. minjeong and yizhuo are busy today,” you explain.

“you have me,” she mutters.

ignoring her, you answer, “aeri seemed really excited for us to meet.”

“you spent all your time in the states with her, you should spend time with your friends here,” jimin retorts.

her hesitance to even admit she wants to spend time with you makes you want to tease her.

“oh? you’re right,” jimin perks up like a puppy. cute, you think. “i should text yujin if she wants to go out, remember her? she was our student council president.”

rolling her eyes, jimin swats at your hand nursing her bruise. it’s too easy for you to return to past habits, bantering with jimin like she was the only girl you’ve ever loved (she was).

it’s too easy. between the choice of going out with aeri to meet someone new and staying in with jimin. it’s such an easy choice to make.

you bring the ice pack away from her face, choosing to caress her cheek lovingly instead. she sighs, content, leaning into your touch.

“jimin,” you gulp, “i’m sorry for these past few years.”

her eyes gaze up at you, “it’s okay. i’ve come to terms with it. i honestly wasn’t expecting you to come back.”

“i wasn’t planning to either, but aeri wanted to.”

“good thing she convinced you, huh?” jimin smiles, “at least i know i was the reason for our break up.”

“it’s only a relationship if there are two people,” you say, “it was my fault too.”

her eyes momentarily flicker to your lips, it doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

“i know these years haven’t been easy on both of us, but if you’re willing to, i think i’m okay with giving us a second chance,” you confess, “even if you hurt me again, i still want you. i just want you. you’ve always been the only one in here.” you point at your heart.

jimin’s eyes shoot straight up, finally breaking into a wide smile, “seriously? even after what i said last night? i’m not complaining but like… you were pretty angry. i just wanted to know why you ghosted me and i agree, i deserved it. but why the sudden change?”

“i mean,” you shrug, “it was what you said that made me think about this. i didn’t want you to stop loving me, because i’ve never stopped loving you.”

“you love me?”

“i love you.”

“this is so crazy, you went from slapping me to…” she trails off, grasping your chin and bringing you into a kiss. her lips were so, so, soft. you wondered why you even let her go. once your lips met, you felt her sigh before smiling into your mouth. catching your breath, you run your fingers through her blonde hair.

“still going on that date with suki?”

“jimin, you know her name’s somi.”

“whatever, i love you too.”

#aespa #aespa x reader #karina x reader #yu jimin x reader #jimin x reader

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 8 months

Note

Spooky season needs spooky stuff.. >:3

So can I request the digital circus cast (minus Caine)meeting a Child Spirit Y/n headcanons,who like Kinda possesed/went inside the game to find they’re killer for some reason? They are eerily quiet and like to stare but if talked to very sweet but quick to snap in distrust because..well trust is what got them killed in the first place? They’re a bit bloody..and a eyeball sometimes hangs out?? Like vhs horror stuff

Sorry I’m being so descriptive,I hope you are a nice day!

OOOoo yes time for more spooks!

Also I am having a nice night, thanks! (and I hope you are having a nice day/night too!)

......

Pomni

To make a long story short, you got murdered while wearing the headset, and that tethered your spirit to TADC.

As expected, you lost memories of who you were--except for the knowledge that someone killed you because you trusted them too much, and you believed the answers were inside this very game.

Your character ends up looking like a child's ghost costume: a white bedsheet stained in blood and one of your eyeballs occasionally wanting to pop from its socket.

Caine (who was very much bewildered at your arrival) declares that you're part of an "exclusive Halloween update" and changes up the tent and grounds to have more spooky flair.

But Pomni clearly wants no part of it, and she can tell you don't either.

You're clearly a kid who is (somehow) handling the situation of being stuck in this game better than her, yet when she tries asking you about it....all you do is stare back.

She swears she can hear static noises and whispers she can't decipher--all in all getting a...very creepy vibe from you.

Initially she decides to keep her distance, afraid you were secretly some virus or Abstraction underneath that sheet.

But that changes when you're walking by the rooms one night, and you pass by Pomni's door, hearing her quietly crying.

Although you weren't inclined to get close to anybody here, you were concerned. And since you weren't actually coded into the game, you didn't have to follow any of its rules--and that allowed you to enter her room without a key.

At first you scared the shit out of her, but after realizing it's you, she lets you sit beside her, eventually venting about how badly she missed her real home.

"Everyone keeps telling me "oh this place is so much better" or "get used to it"...but what if I don't wanna do that? I don't care if my old life was bad...I-I can't take anymore of this.." Her sobs grow louder. "I wanna wake up in my own bed knowing my real name!!"

"...I miss home, too," is all you say in response. Yet it's more than enough to calm her down.

For once, you're not trying to brush her off or force her to "cheer up" and accept her reality. You made her feel heard.

"Yeah..me, too....sh-should I thank you for agreeing..?" She sniffles, seeing your subtle nod, before you leave her be, not wanting to get too attached.

Ironically, she was able to sleep a little easier after talking to you.

Jax

From the get-go, he's gonna be real nosy and curious.

Since not even Caine himself expected your arrival and found out that you don't follow the "rules" like everyone else...Jax is gonna try his damnedest to understand you and see what makes you tick.

But he's gonna be disappointed quickly since you don't respond much to him (or anybody in general).

"So...ya like Halloween?"

"........"

"....thought so. Good talk, new kid."

You definitely act like a legit ghost--doing nothing but stare, move things around, and pop up unexpectedly.

Eventually, his curiosity leads to him visiting your room (which has no key), and he discovers many drawings on the walls.

Most depicting a dead person wearing a headset.

What he found most disturbing was a journal that contained his and the others' names..

From what he's gathering...you're suspecting one of them of murdering your real world-self.

But he doesn't get much time to ponder this as you show up, angry at him for intruding.

You make yourself look even bloodier and scarier, with both of your eyeballs hanging from their sockets and staring at him.

"Get out."

Those two simple words put the fear of god in him.

Jax runs out faster than a jackrabbit, colliding with Gangle in the process. Her comedy mask falls off again, but he catches it and looks at her.

"J-Jax..?" She realizes his fur is standing up on all ends, and he looks terrified....even more than he did after realizing the circus was his forever home.

But he just shoves the mask back into her hands and leaves without saying a word.

He never speaks of what he found in your room that day.

Kinger

He thought his eyes were weird...until you came along and periodically had to put your own eyeball back into its socket.

"It's good to know I'm not alone!" He nervously chuckles, only to be met with your eerie silence.

Sometime later, he suggests showing you his insect collection, and it does pique your interest.

You did love all things "creepy" and "crawly".

Yet you're adamant about going to his pillow fortress after he invites you.

It reminds you of the ones you used to build all the time, up until...

Fortunately, Kinger recognizes your reluctance and just brings one of his bug boxes to you so you can look at it.

He could infodump about the various critters for hours, with nothing but nods and quiet "mhms" from you, and he's happy.

In general, he doesn't mind your quiet personality.

Although you still sometimes jumpscare him unintentionally like Gangle often does.

Tbh he's a good father figure and recognizes that you're just a kid who got trapped in this game unfairly.

Even so, you try to keep your distance and looks at him suspiciously if he starts acting too nice.

He was quiet aloof, and you weren't sure how he would act on any given day.

Gangle

After accidentally spooking her (by simply existing in the same room as her), she breaks her comedy mask off.

But immediately she feels guilty for screaming and tries scrambling to fix it, hoping you weren't mad at her.

Yet all you do is stare, not looking angry or anything at all (it's hard for any of the performers to see your expression in general, aside from your hanging eye, but still).

Poor Gangle is just afraid you'd turn into a scarier version of yourself.

When she keeps cutting her ribbon fingers(?) on the ceramic pieces, you come over and clean it up for her, taking it away despite your own hands bleeding.

The implications that you were able to shed blood and nobody else were a little disturbing to her..but she's glad you're not offended by her screaming.

Although she wonders where you're going with her mask..

Later on, you knock on her door and present it fully fixed.

Except...it looks more Halloweenish with an evil smile painted on it, messily glued together.

'Oh god I hope this doesn't turn me evil or anything..' She thinks, putting on a smile as she takes it anyways.

Yet you remain where you are, staring and clearly waiting for her to try it on.

And so she does, and it turns her into a very chaotic Halloween lover, acting even more mischievous than Jax and allowing her to finally get her revenge for all his pranks.

In the end, you gain a decent friendship with her, subtly protecting her from Jax's bullying.

Ragatha

Seeing that you're so distant from the rest of the gang has her worried.

Some of them might consider your loose eyeball creepy, but she's not gonna judge you on that (besides, she's missing an eye altogether so she can't say much anyways).

Howeve,r she's the first to find out how strong your distrust of everyone is.

"[Y/n]? I don't think it's good to be isolating yourself like this. I know you hate being here and Caine's a weirdo..but...we're all in this together. You can trust us-"

"Don't." You warn, putting on a frightening display of anger that sends her tumbling to the ground, sending chills up her spine.

"Trust" became something you didn't take lightly, as the last time you put your trust in someone....you ended up dead, turning into a literal ghost in the machine (that was your gaming system).

Despite this, Ragatha doesn't run away.

Like Pomni, she understands that you're just a kid who's confused and lost.....and clearly had serious trust issues.

But she's determined to help you through that, even if you keep scaring everybody away.

She's got motherly instincts, and she hopes that in due time you'll learn to warm up to her.

Zooble

"A bedsheet worn as a costume? That's a classic."

She's seen weirder things during their time in the circus, so you don't faze her too much.

Only when you snap at Ragatha or somebody who was trying to be nice to you does she raise an eyebrow.

Honestly, they 100% understand that you just wanted to be alone sometimes, and she respects that.

It's suffocating trying to act all cheery and go along with every damn activity Caine tries to get everyone involved in (but lucky for you, he can't make you follow along).

Especially since she believes he made up that stupid "Halloween update" as lazy way to explain your sudden arrival.

The only time you do interact with Zooble is after she yanks Jax by his ears, and they hear this eerie-sounding giggle behind them.

When she turns around, you're just standing there motionless, staring at her.

Somehow, they just know you were smiling underneath that costume, which makes her smile, too.

"Maybe I should pull him out a hat next time, huh?" She jokes after letting him go, and you giggle once more as he hits the ground.

#clanask #anonymous #tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader #tadc pomni #tadc ragatha #tadc kinger #tadc gangle #tadc jax #tadc zooble #ghost reader #child reader #tw body horror #platonic #headcanons #halloween

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solar-wing · 1 month

Text

⚣ Submission 🗣️

⚣🗣️ A/N → Something I couldn't get out of my head after I saw this TikTok. You can't tell me this wouldn't be Jason in this situation. WARNINGS: none

⚣🗣️ Summary → Imagine being in a relationship with Jason Todd where you know Jason could easily beat you in a fight but it never stops you from talking shit as if you’ll fuck him up, and he just lets you…

⚣🗣️ Words → 851

REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

⚣ ENJOY 🗣️

It’s not something Jason admits he finds amusing and adorable about you, but the fact that he lets you do it without any real pushback is telling enough. Because imagine, this towering and colossal-sized man, definitely over 6 feet and huge mass with the muscles to show and is a trained fighter (no matter how informal), getting beaten in a fight between him and his shorter and/or smaller boyfriend.

And it’s not to say you could never beat him in a fight, oh no! Your Jaybirdie would never want you to believe he doubts your capability and skills like that. Actually, he’d very much like and would encourage you to be able to learn how to take him down. It would help with his anxiety and fear of you being out in the world without him there to protect you, feeling more at ease knowing you could defend yourself if need be.

He’s definitely planning to make that a reality, because if you two are going to continue to be in a relationship, Jason needs to know that you can protect yourself without him there. It’s something you both talked about and he made it clear when you first got into a serious relationship about him and his family’s side careers.

But, until then, Jason will happily and silently enjoy the trash-talking and play fights with you. It just gives him more of an excuse to have your body rubbing against his, the perv…

It always starts small and silly.

Whether you’re just feeling playful or want attention, it doesn’t matter. You and Jason will be cuddling on the couch or the bed and engaging in your usual harmless domestic banter. Or he’ll be minding his own business cooking, reading, or going over cases and reports, and you’ll just come up and start messing with him.

Messing up his hair, poking him in his face, slapping his butt, and shoving against his body. Despite popular belief, Jason has a somewhat good level of patience and will endure it, but then you start talking shit.

“Oh, was that important? Looks like you’ll need to start over,” You’ll say after purposely jerking his hand while he was writing notes down on a mission report.

“Oops, looks like you dropped something. You’re so freaking clumsy,” said with a jeering tone after knocking the book Jason was reading out of his hands.

“Aww, is the little baby getting upset? Don’t cry baby, it’ll be okay,” You’ll respond in the most insulting baby voice knowing how much Jason despises it and usually ends up being his last straw.

The vigilante will give a soft shove and a warning look to you and that’s all you need. You’ll start taunting him even more and pushing yourself against him, grabbing at his wrists and arms as he holds you back.

“You feeling tough all of sudden? Am I going to have to mess you up like last time?”

Ding. Ding. Ding.

The next moment, Jason’s patience has officially run out and now, the two of you are rolling around on the bed, couch, and floor trying to pin the other. Well, you’re trying to pin him.

Jason’s just holding you off with ease and letting you slip out of his grabs now and then, letting you think you’ve got a chance. Of course, that leads to more shit-talking.

“Man, what kind of criminals are you fighting? You’re no match for me.”

Of course, as things will go when it comes to wrestling between two males, it eventually gets a little out of hand. You’ll shove Jason too hard, accidentally land a hit on his face or nether region, or you’ll even purposefully try to cheat to which your boyfriend responds by immediately putting you in a submission.

Never anything too rough or painful, just enough to immobilize you until you calm down and stop fighting back. But, even the non-painful ones are a bit much for you since you’re not used to fighting like Jason is, so you’ll typically give in within a few seconds, especially when he puts a little pressure on you and jerks you a bit as payback for all the trash talk.

It doesn’t stop you though, since as soon as you’re both done and back to whatever you were doing, you’ll continue to talk shit at your boyfriend like you had him in submission.

“Hopefully you learned your lesson.”

“We can clearly see who the big guy is in this relationship now. Don’t worry little man, maybe you’ll win again next time.”

“Light work. Maybe we should get you some classes small fry.”

And so much more trash-talking and playful jabs until the next round. But, Jason doesn’t mind. As long as he’s the one getting to put you in a submission at the end, he’ll let you trash-talk him all day, every day.

☀️ | Jason Todd/Red Hood | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

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alienwithaguitar · 2 months

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Does anyone else think this Wilbur thing has been blown way out of proportion? First of all, I am in FULL support of Shelby and am not defending Wilbur. As a victim myself, I sympathize with her story, and I will never discredit her experiences. But this community is going to extremes that make me so fucking uncomfortable.

What people forget is that Wilbur has a record label. He CAN'T say whatever he wants. There’s a reason he made a statement not an apology, why Lovejoy hasn’t said anything, why he never mentioned Shelby by name, why he didn’t apologize- because making promises can get you in legal trouble. One of the first things you learn about car accidents is to not apologize, even if it's your fault, because that will be used against you in court. Admissions can even get you in trouble for things you didn’t do, if the other party decides to push for that. He’s almost certainly not allowed to apologize because his record label can't risk the legal trouble. We can excuse Quackity for making poor statements for the same reason, so why can't we keep that energy here?

Wilbur has always been an unstable man. As a long time fan and someone who heavily relates to YCGMA’s themes of being awful and feeling like you’ll never get better, he struggles with a lot of mental problems. His persona has been built around manic, destructive tendencies and that’s something that’s been a part of his brand for YEARS. He's brought up drugs and alcohol use in the past, and one of his closest friends recently passed away, which certainly only added to things. Mental health isn't an excuse, but it is a REASON. (Listen to Mammalian Sighing Reflex and tell me it doesn’t resemble compilations of artists deteriorating as they lose their sanity)

I don’t understand how anyone can actively want him to kill himself. Or wish that he gets worse. You can’t claim to be an advocate for mental health and helping victims if you don’t want EVERYONE involved getting serious help. Wilbur needs therapy, he needs to atone if either of them want to heal. Nobody has to forgive him, or welcome him back into their life, but he absolutely deserves the chance to fix himself to ensure this doesn’t happen AGAIN.

If you can seriously say that you want him to get worse, and you don’t care about his mental health, then you DON'T care about victims. Leaving a destructive man to rot alone WILL lead to repeat events in the future. As someone with multiple diagnoses for debilitating mental illnesses, when I was at my lowest, I hurt myself. I hurt other people. Mental illness isn’t cute shit you put in your bio. It's terrifying, isolating, exhausting. And if I wasn’t given a chance at therapy and healing, I could have continued hurting people for the rest of my life.

These tweets just confirm none of you actually care about mentally ill people, it's all situational and performative. This is the most clear cry for help I've seen and you're feeding into it. Most of you will never understand what debilitating mental illness is like, how easy it is to hurt people you care about. You can hate him, be pissed, wish he never did it, deplatform him, I AM TOO! But nobody involved would be happy if he killed himself. These are real people, not characters in a soap drama. Actively wishing for him to kill himself is disgusting. If you care at all about Shelby getting closure, Wilbur needs to understand what he did wrong and fix it, so she can move on.

Also the lying I’ve seen is so stupid. The spotify stuff is fake. Anyone who’s a casual fan of Wilbur has known for a long time that’s not his spotify account. It’s a fan account that posts unofficial versions of his songs. So easily debunked and yet people still hold it against him??

Again, I'm in FULL support of Shelby. I fully condemn his actions, and as a victim I'm so proud of her for speaking up. But at the end of the day, we’re people. I'm glad many of you have never had the kind of debilitating downward spiral that leads to you hurting yourself and others, but if you think that makes it okay to wish an unstable man takes his life, then you can’t say you’re a mental health advocate. Take care of yourselves, please think twice about your own morals if you're sitting around hoping fans and creators commit suicide.

If you are one of the people actively waiting for him to kill himself, I pray that you never find yourself hurting others at your lowest, and I pray that people show you the kindness you didn't give to him.

#not a wilbur defense post #but its still important to consider #wilbur #wilbursoot #wilbur soot #shelby #shelby shubble #shubble

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sidsinning · 1 year

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UNNECESSARY AND UNHINGED RANT ABOUT CINDERELLA'S CHARACTER FROM CINDERELLA (2015) INCOMING

Lemme talk about Cinderella from Cinderella (2015) for a bit actually yeah because these changes to my girl completely baffle me

She has friends now

Goes outside on her own

Says the only reason why she's staying is because it's her parent's house- bruh.

All of this takes away (+ more reasons down the cut) from the true cruelty of OG!Cinderella's backstory and how it all connects so well to inform you of her character and the actions she takes

OG!Cinderella has been indoctrinated into accepting her life as a maid to her step family since she was a small child. She is never seen going outside of the house besides the night at the ball. The only friends she had were random animals around her she couldn't even fully converse with. She had no other human perspective on her situation or how to get out of it. It makes sense why she's just taking her stepmother's tyranny while holding everything in because this isolation and neglect is all she knows. This is the entire limited scope of her world. A sad reality to many cases of abuse in real life.

And they just. Erased all of this for some. Reason???

The night at the ball was a big deal because she literally NEVER gets to go out. This is the only time she interacts with the outside world aside from the ending. The impact of that was HUGE in the original movie. The new one just cheapened that imo by implying she goes out in town and talks to others regularly. This event was an impossible, fantastical dream come true to someone who is never treated as anything but a servant to everyone she knows.

Basically OG!Cinderella has it way worse which is what makes the ball such a huge deal in the first place.

Third point I don't think I need to explain how Cinderella staying in her abusive home bc the house is "hers to love now that her parents are dead" is not a good character change and doesn't make sense. I would understand if her dad was alive and insisting on staying, but he is GONE. It is a building you grew up in sure, but that's all it is. Not something you sacrifice your wellbeing for. So that's a shit reason they didn't need to make up to say why this character is stuck in her abusive household. The isolation and years of gaslighting were enough. (Also showing how much of a frightening presence and manipulative villain Lady Tremaine is.)

And she sure left it quick after getting hitched lol

The Fairy Godmother having the audacity to test Cinderella with that "oh I'm a poor old woman and I want some milk please" nonsense

Not very godmotherly of her in this version. 🥴 The Fairy Godmother appeared in the original to offer pure comfort to Cinderella in a time of desperate need, when this resilient and kind spirit finally reached her breaking point. The dress, slippers, pumpkin carriage, and magic were all given freely as a present to make her feel better at least for one night.

Meanwhile this goofy ass Godmother has the audacity to be like "hey is she gonna be nice or not even though she's crying in tattered, recently destroyed clothing- I need to see that or else she doesn't get the magic juice". Like why did this become a way to test her morality all of a sudden? Why did you need something from her to give up the magic goods?? It's not even a good test she just walked a couple steps and poured some milk in a bowl,,,

Idk man they made their relationship transactional for no reason which taints the original purpose of this scene imo. The original Fairy Godmother already KNEW Cinderella was kind without having to make sure by disguising herself as a rancid old lady. 😭 Weird and unnecessary addition.

Kinda nitpicky here but this film did not at all match the terror of the torn dress scene which really shows you how horrifying and humiliating it was to Cinderella

Comparison

AND THE BIGGEST OFFENDER: THE WAY SHE "ESCAPED".

I NEED TO TAKE A BREATH

BECAUSE LIKE. WHAT WAS THAT.

Original Cinderella, seeing a real chance of escape from her abuse, uses everything in her possession to do so. She's yelling for the mice to get the key, to get Bruno to chase away the cat, running down to meet the prince's attendants to make sure they get the proof of her identity from her- and that moment she oh-so-casually pulled out the second slipper??? SEEING HER STEPMOTHER'S SLACKED JAW??? GAGGED US ALL.

ICONIC

But 2015. Bitch. What is going on. She gets locked up and easily accepts her doom. She just twirls and sings in her prison like a dunce because cINDerELLa wAs aLReADy cONTenT wIth her sMaLL mOMEnts oF hAPPIneSs anD dREamS wItH thE pRinCE.

Just. Gives up.

Not the mice begging her to get up and save herself come on now

The mice have to do their best on their own to push open her window so the prince and his crew hear her on time.

And yeah, all she had to do was open a window.

WHAT. WHY. HOW. WAS THIS??? MORE EMPOWERING???

1950: use your brain to fight to the very end

2015: quit while you're still ahead, or don't try you just gotta dance and sing all pretty then someone will come along and save you

I'm sorry, but for a production that was so critical of the notion of "Cinderella just waited around for a prince to save her"...is that not literally what they changed the ending to?

You wanna talk about lack of agency in princess stories well here you go 😭

You know what's sad about all this in the end is this is still the best recent live action Disney remake imo LOL

Anyways hello if you've made it all the way down here I rest my case

#disney #cinderella #cinderella 2015 #sidrabbles #rant #i like 1950s lady tremain more but i dont dislike this more sympathetic and character driven take on her either #feels different but not bad #prince is 10000x better no complaints from me #but the bar wasn't that high in the first place so congrats i guess??? LOL RLLY THO THE ACTOR KILLED IT ROB STARK YOU GO GIRL

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gigabyte-flare · 1 year

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There's No Escape (Part 4)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Summary: You inadvertently discover one of Leon's trauma triggers, piquing your curiosity as you to try to figure out why he is the way he is.

Pairing: yandere!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

Word Count: 3k

If any of the warnings below trigger you, please kindly pass on this fic

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life; if you feel this way, please go touch grass. You are solely responsible for your own content consumption

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT OR I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL YEET YOU INTO THE GODDAMN SUN. Thank you!

Warnings (may not apply to all parts): Sex, gaslighting, swearing, stalking, acts of violence, blood, dubcon, kidnapping, pet names (baby, doll, angel, sweetheart, etc.), PTSD triggers, unprotected sex, forced breeding, daddy kink, manipulation, oral (m and f receiving), choking, overstimulation, knife play, gunplay, masterbation, drugging. Long story short, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. More warnings could be added in the future.

Tags: @lipglossanon, @ghostkennedy, @explorevenus, @nexyswrites, @ilookatlater, @shroomietrip, @dollrxst, @lomaeuwu, @aliet, @luniaxifics (Shoot me a message or an ask if you want to be added to the list!)

A/N: Holy shit you have no idea how happy I am to finally get this out. I had originally written out something completely different from what this ended up being, but I hated where it was going, so I changed it. Definitely like this better. It does get pretty intense in this one, but then it gets kind of fluffy and then there's some angst. As always, please excuse any grammatical errors. Enjoy!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You awoke to the most intense feeling of pleasure washing over you. A tongue swirling over your sensitive clit along with at least two fingers digging inside you, hitting your g-spot oh, so right. You arch your back as you push your head back into the pillow, your eyes still closed as you let out a soft moan.

You open your eyes, sit up on your elbows and look down, seeing Leon kneeling at the end of the bed, your legs draped over his shoulders as he ate you out and fucked you with his fingers. In that moment, the recollection of where you were and how you got there rushed at you all at once, causing you to tense up completely. Leon stops what he’s doing and looks up at you, his lips drenched from your juices and the remnants of his release from the night before.

“Oh, sorry princess! Did I wake you?”

You think about giving him a good kick in the face, but you were so drained, plus you weren’t keen on getting put in timeout and chained to the wall again. Resigning to your current situation, you lay back down, giving him a wave of your hand for him to continue. Instantly you feel his lips sucking on your clit, causing your legs to twitch as his fingers continue their assault on your g-spot.

As much as you hated this man, there was no denying that he was extremely good at taking care of you, knowing exactly which buttons to push. It’s likely why you tolerated his sick, demented mind for as long as you had before escaping.

Your whole body begins to tremble as you inch closer to your release, your legs clenching to his powerful shoulders. Your right hand runs through his hair as you let out a loud moan.

“D-Daddy… I’m so close!” you cry out, your fingers digging into the back of his head.

You feel him smile around your clit as his fingers begin to pound into you, and in an instant you snap, soaking his fingers with your release as you cry out. You feel him pull his fingers out of you, you sit back up to look down at him.

“What a good girl,” he purrs, licking your juices from his fingers like it was candy, “Daddy’s going to get cleaned up, then I’ll make us breakfast, ‘k pumpkin?”

You watch him stand up and go into an adjacent room, which you assume is the master bathroom. You hear the sink run for a couple minutes as you get up from bed, your legs extremely unsteady between last night and this morning. You approach the closet and open it. You don’t see your clothes, however you do see a large navy blue t-shirt you could use. Pulling it out, you see the faded letters say ‘R.P.D.’. Pulling your sweaty t-shirt off and tossing it into the laundry basket on the floor in the closet, you pull the new t-shirt over your head.

It didn’t quite cover your lower region, so you found a pair of his boxer shorts to put on with it. You felt gross wearing his clothes, but it was better than being naked, which you figured Leon would enjoy way too much; you couldn’t have that. Turning around, you find Leon standing in the doorway of the bathroom, staring at you in awe.

Maybe you were better off naked…

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Later that afternoon, you were in the living room trying to hook up your game console as Leon worked on paperwork for his job in an adjacent office. His only instruction was that you weren’t too loud. Once you got it hooked up, you sat on the floor, cross-legged, as you went through the small pile of games that Leon had grabbed from your apartment prior to bringing you here.

You decide to put in a game called Dead Rising, a game about a photographer stuck in a mall infested with zombies that you could grab pretty much anything you could use as a weapon to kill the zombie horde with. You needed an outlet for your pent up frustration at your situation. As you boot up the game console, you make note of the clicking sounds coming from Leon’s office, letting you know he was distracted with his work.

You get the game booted up, and immediately you get to work killing as many zombies as possible. You catch yourself smiling, this is the most normal you have felt in over three months. You pause the game for a moment to adjust yourself on the floor, one of your legs is starting to fall asleep. You happen to glance down at your shirt.

You wonder what R.P.D. stands for…

P.D. clearly meant police department, and given Leon’s current occupation of ‘government agent,’ you wouldn’t be surprised if Leon had been a cop at some point, although he neglected to mention that when you first met him. Odd. You unpause the game and continue your undead killing rampage, that smile of content returning to your face as you let out a sigh, completely oblivious to the fact that the clicking of Leon’s keyboard had stopped.

The TV suddenly explodes in a burst of sparks, loud bangs ringing in your ears as you sit there in complete shock. As the smoke clears you see three holes in the TV which you immediately recognize are bullet holes. Before you’re able to process what just happened, you feel Leon’s hand grab you by your hair, forcing you to your feet, he practically drags you out of the room.

“Ow, son of a bitch, Leon! What the hell?! What did I do?!”

“Out of all the games you could play, you had to pick one with fucking zombies in it,” Leon growled, pulling you towards the timeout room.

“No, no, no, NO! I’ve been so good, why are you putting me in timeout?!” you cry out, trying to struggle against him.

He whips the timeout room door open, tossing you onto the bed, slamming the door behind him. He grabs you by your throat, bringing you up to the collar, making short work of clamping it around your neck. He didn’t bother with the other chains.

“Will you at least tell me what I did wro--”

You are suddenly smacked across the face with a very heavy object, your vision blurs for a second as your head rings. You feel blood start to drip out from your mouth; you must have bit your tongue when you were hit. You realize quickly that the heavy object was one of Leon’s prized pistols.

“For starters…” Leon growled, once again grabbing you by your hair, pulling your head back as you felt the muzzle of the pistol under your chin, “you didn’t call me, Daddy. And you swore at me, again.”

“D-Daddy I’m sorry! I just don’t know what I did wrong!” I sob, tears streaming down your face as blood trickles from your mouth.

“You just had to play something with fucking zombies in it!” Leon shouted.

You can’t help but raise an eyebrow at him. You’ve seen Leon angry before, but you’ve never seen Leon this irate, and about a zombie video game of all things.

You swallow hard, “Daddy… zombies aren’t real… it was just a video game…”

Much to your surprise, Leon lets out a boisterous laugh, “oh sweetheart, what I’d give to be as ignorant as you.”

“W-What are you talking about…?”

“You have no idea what I’ve been through, princess. How much I have lost.”

You stare at him dumbfounded, having absolutely no clue what he’s referring to.

“I promised myself, I would never lose anything ever again. And that includes you, princess.”

You feel Leon move the muzzle of his pistol away from your chin, causing you to release a sigh of relief, but watch in horror as Leon proceeds to lick the barrel of his gun.

Oh my god, he’s completely lost his mind… as if you had any doubt of that before.

“When you left me, do you have any idea how much that crushed me? Did you even think for one second how that would make me feel, after everything I have done for you?”

Your throat is so dry from the blood running down your throat, but thankfully blood is no longer dripping out of your mouth, however, dry bits of blood coat your lips.

“I-I’m so sorry… I… I had no idea…”

His grip on your hair tightens as he stares down at you, his blue eyes wide and wild for a moment before his expression softens. You are relieved when he lets go of your hair.

“You know what, sweetheart? You’re right. How could you have known?”

He places the pistol on the bedside table before climbing on top of you, kissing you deeply.

“Let Daddy play with you and you can come out of timeout, ok, sweetheart?” 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Leon hated hurting you, but you made it so fucking hard not to when you would constantly misbehave. But truly, how could you have known how deeply scarred he was from that night in Raccoon City? The public had no clue what had happened. They knew the city was sectioned off due to a mystery outbreak and rumors flew around how the government fired missiles at it.

If only people knew the truth.

You nodded at his request, instantly warming his heart, pushing the nightmares away from his mind. He removed the collar off your neck and he made short work of pulling his old Raccoon Police Department shirt off over your head and tossing it aside. His hands latch onto both your breasts, squeezing tight before rubbing both your nipples between his middle fingers and thumbs, causing you to squirm.

He pulls his boxer shorts off you, and he takes a moment to admire your soaked hole. He loved how much your body clearly wanted him. He reaches down, his middle and ring finger slipping inside you easily as his thumb gently rubs circles into your clit.

He watches in delight as you arch your back, moaning loudly as you reach your arms up, gripping the pillow behind your head. He continued to expertly fuck you with his fingers, a smirk overtaking his lips as he watches you clearly enjoying this.

“D-Daddy… please.. Inside!”

“Oh?” he couldn’t help but smile, “you want Daddy inside you now? Oh what a good girl you are!”

He hadn’t heard you ask him to fuck you since you first moved in with him and it absolutely thrills him. Pulling his own shirt off, followed shortly by the rest of his clothing, Leon undresses himself and climbs on top of you, settling his hips between your legs, his cock slipping inside you with ease.

Because you were made just for him.

He moves his hips rhythmically, pushing deep inside you rather than flat out pounding into you. You were being such a good girl for him and he wanted you to enjoy this as much as he was. He looks down at you so lovingly, cupping your face in his hands before kissing you.

He’s immediately taken back to his first date with you. He had taken you to a fancy restaurant in D.C. before you both went and saw a movie together. Afterwards, he dropped you off at your apartment on the other side of town, but you invited him inside. It didn’t take him long to coax your clothes off you and let him have his way with you; just like it didn’t take long for him to convince you to move in with him, that way you were never out of his sight. You were so perfect, and you were the only one that could hold the demons of his past away.

He began to move his hips more aggressively, eliciting more loud moans out of you along with a generous mix of ‘Daddy’ and ‘Leon.’ You drape your arms around his shoulders as he continues to kiss you eagerly.

“Daddy… Pl-Please let me cum…!” you moan into his kiss.

“Of course, my princess, you’ve been such a good girl, Daddy will let you cum.”

You cry out as you cum all over his cock, he can feel your juices coat him as he pushes into you, coming undone himself as he lets out a low growl. He collapses beside you, rubbing your belly as you cuddle into him. He wraps his arms around you, kissing the top of your head.

“I love you so much, babygirl,” he says softly, inhaling the scent of your hair.

It doesn’t take long until you are fast asleep in his embrace, it comforted him knowing you felt safe falling asleep in his arms.

He is so happy you are finally starting to give in to him.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

You wake up to the sound of Leon climbing out of bed, immediately disgusted at yourself. You had given in to his advances last night, he hated how he could make you feel so good. You rub your eyes before sitting up, watching as Leon gets dressed. You realize you’re still in the timeout room.

“I have to run into town to get a new TV to replace the… one that I shot. Can I trust that you’re going to be a good girl while Daddy’s gone?” Leon asked as he finished putting his clothes on.

“Y-Yeah…” you say, your eyes still heavy-lidded from just waking up.

“Good,” Leon replies, “I brought in your clothes, I had them in the Jeep. They’re in the closet in the bedroom.”

You climb out of bed and follow Leon out of the timeout room and into the master bedroom where he opens the closet door, showing you that your clothes were indeed there.

“Alright, I gotta go, I’ll be back as soon as I can ok?” He kisses your forehead before leaving you in the bedroom.

You don’t move until you hear the front door open, then shut, and then lock. You grab one of your t-shirts with a pair of jeans along with a set of underwear. Once dressed, you walk into the living room and find Leon had already taken care of the very broken TV. You then immediately notice his office door is open.

He had an office in the apartment in D.C., too, but it was never open. Mustering your courage, you slowly approach the office, you see papers scattered all over the desk, you pick them up and read them, most of it government nonsense that you didn’t care to understand. There are drawers in the desk, you open one of them to find a series of files. One of them immediately caught your attention.

It was labeled ‘Raccoon City Incident.’

The manilla folder had a large CLASSIFIED stamp on it but that did not deter your curiosity. The folder is stuffed full of different documents, you quickly glance over them, quickly growing mortified at the contents that you skim through.

Hundreds of thousands infected… viral outbreak… undead… T-Virus… G-Virus… nuclear sterilization…

“What the fuck…?” you say to yourself in complete disbelief over what you were reading, this is some video game bullshit…

Suddenly, a photo fell out from the documents face down. You quickly pick it up and turn it around. You gasp; it’s a photo of Leon. He clearly was a lot younger in this photo, wearing damaged tactical gear that had ‘R.P.D.’ printed on the front. It suddenly occurred to you what the print on Leon’s shirt stood for.

Raccoon Police Department.

Your eyes widen at this revelation as you look back down at the photo. Even though he clearly went through hell, he had a light in his eyes that was nowhere to be seen now, it honestly broke your heart. You put the manilla folder back together and put it back into the drawer with the others. However, there’s another one that catches your eye, this one is labeled ‘Kennedy Report.’

You sit in the office chair as you open the folder, reading through the documents. This one talked about a parasite rather than a virus and how a cult leader had infected an entire village plus the president’s daughter that had gotten kidnapped by the cult and… Leon?!

You had to re-read the sentence a few times to make sure you had read it correctly. Leon was infected with this parasite? You start to wonder if there’s a chance that he was still infected when you read that he and the president’s daughter successfully removed the parasite from each other. You low key hoped he was still infected, it would have at least explained his demeanor. You continue to read the report before you suddenly hear the front door open.

“Sweetie, I’m back!”

“Oh shit!” you say quietly as you carefully put the folder back in the drawer, making sure to close the drawer silently.

You scramble out of the office, making sure to shut the door. Just as you step away from the office door, Leon comes into the living room with the new TV, placing it in the spot where the old TV was and plugging it in.

“There we go, all better!” he says, turning around to look at you, “and there’s my good girl.”

You give him a weak smile as you nod. You can’t help but look at him in a different light, now knowing the darkness of his past that you were almost certain he did not want to you to see.

Part 5

#yandere!leon kennedy x reader #yandere!leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader smut #there's no escape #gigabyte writes

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