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#why i was ignored. and then still kept being a part of it
artssslut2 · 23 hours
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I Told You It Would Happen
This can be a standalone or part three to something’s missing.
Art Donaldson x Reader
Summary: you are art finally got the news you had been waiting for.
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It had been another month or two since you last took a test. You and Art decided to keep trying but try not to get too excited yet because it could take a while. However, you started having some symptoms you couldn’t ignore. The biggest being a missed period. When you noticed you wanted to jump up and down and tell Art, but then you thought about how disappointed he’d be if it was another negative. So you decided that you would just take the test alone while he was training.
As you sat in the bathroom waiting for the results of the test you felt guilty. Art had been right by your side every other time. Would he feel left out? Would he want to be here? You knew he’s want to be here weather it was positive or negative, you suddenly decided to cover up the test with a towel and wait for him to get home. You forced yourself to do everything in your power not to look at the test. “It’s probably negative” you kept telling yourself. You went for a long walk to try and distract yourself from what could be the best thing that’s ever happened to you (besides Art). You saw the time and knew Art would be home soon so you rushed back to the house. As you got to your house Art pulled into the drive way meeting him at the door. He looked surprised to see you out for a walk, it was kind of out of the ordinary for you.
“Whatcha doing babe?” Your husband asked wrapping his arms around you giving you a quick kiss.
“Just uh enjoying our beautiful neighborhood, why?” You answered clearly hiding something, you were a terrible liar and Art knew it.
“Yeah? What’s going on y/n/n?” Art asked you suspiciously neither of you opening the door yet
“I - um - I… I thought maybe I was pregnant because I missed my period so I was gonna take a test and not tell you unless it was positive because I didn’t want you to be disappointed but then I felt so guilty because I knew you would still want to be there no matter what the test said so I covered the test before I could see the results so that I could wait for you so we could both look and I’ve been trying so hard not to look and I’m kind of freaking out” you blurred out somehow all in one breath. Art waited a minute making sure you were done, you noticed a small smile growing on his face
“What? Are you mad?” You asked
“You think you’re pregnant?” He whispered sweetly
“Well I don’t know maybe” you replied still in panic mode
“What are we waiting for let’s go see if we’re parents!” Art happily replied pulling you in the door, you followed him to the master bathroom.
“You look. I can’t.” You ordered him gesturing to the towel the test was under.
“Are you sure?” He asked
“Yes now do it!” You barked desperate to know what it said. You watched him slowly lift the towel up looking at the test so only he could see it. His face was blank and you were sure it was negative
“What? What does it say?!” You suddenly we’re mad that you told Art just for it to be negative. His face still not showing anything. He looked down and you saw a smile form on his face. He looked at you
“We’re gonna be parents” he said quietly with tears in his eyes.
“What!? Lemme see!” You ripped the test from him.
“Oh my god!” You yelled grabbing arts face with the test still in your hand now you were both crying Art more than you
“You’re pregnant” Art cried pulling you in for the tightest hug ever
“I’m pregnant!” You cried back, Art dropped to his knees hugging your abdomen
“I told you it would happen” he said kissing you stomach. Your heart felt like it was glowing.
The rest on the night you practically stayed in the same position. You layer in bed and art layer by your stomach with his arms hugging your non existent baby bump. The night was filled with tears of joy, cuddles, and talk of nursery colors, names, what the baby would look like. Art even talked about giving them siblings but you reminded him that you guys should just focus on this one for now.
Art was right, it did happen.
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eff4freddie · 2 days
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2 Sweet 4 Me | Part Two
Dieter Bravo x AFAB Reader Words: 3k Minors DNI
Part One Part Three
Dieter knows he fucked up, knows he lost you, knows it hurt and that he deserved it. But if its the way things had to be, the way they were always going to be, predestined as he is, apparently born under a vengeful and unforgiving star, then why does it still fucking sting so much?
This is a love story.
Warnings: Reference to drug use, illusions to smut but no actual smut (that's next chapter heh heh)
He couldn’t claim ignorance, knew you were seeing someone when he wanted you the first time. Friend of a friend of a work friend, you’d appeared in his living room at some party for something or someone he couldn’t remember, with a beer in one hand and a cheeky little grin all over your face, and he’d felt it even then, the little pull of the invisible string connecting him to you, a kind of slotting into place of things he hadn’t realised until that moment had been misaligned.
He waited for you in the hallway, waited for you in the kitchen. You were with some industry guy, and you looked bored, and he was considering ways of sweeping you up and away from the party, sneaking down to the end of the garden with you and putting his warm hands on your chilled, bare legs. Wondered what you smelt like behind your ear, between your legs.
You kept looking in his direction but not directly at him, and it made his nervous system twang. All those near misses driving him crazy to the point that he would try to shuffle into your eyeline, try to fall into your gaze. Eventually he cracked, just walked his way over to you and introduced himself, ignoring the other people you were standing with completely. You’d warmly accepted his hand into yours, and it was only months later, when you’d been going out for a while, that you confessed to him you’d been watching him the whole time, using your peripheral vision to try and be subtle, worried looking directly at him would be like peering into the sun. He’d loved it when you’d confessed it to him, felt the little thrill in his belly when he got praise, even by proxy as this was. It made him feel a little less crazy, knowing that even then you had felt it, too.
Your first date wasn’t even a proper date, because you were still kind of seeing Simon even though you didn’t like him all that much. You just met up for drinks before you were due to meet up with friends, before he had some industry event thing to get to. There was some vaguely work-related reason that made it plausible for you to see each other, and you both just went with it.
You’d arrived at the bar first, because being late made you more anxious than being too early, and you ordered a drink to try and soothe your jangling nerves while you waited. You had resisted the urge to look him up on his socials, because it felt weirdly like spying when you actually knew him, or were planning to know him at least. But sitting at the bar waiting for him, with the newly emerging fear that he would stand you up, you figured you might take a peek. Maybe it would reveal he wasn’t even in LA, or that he was at a gig or a show or something, some hint that would allow you to slip away into the night before you waited for an embarrassing amount of time.
Ten minutes later your phone was stolen from your hands, and you looked up in surprise to see Dieter’s cheshire grin beaming down at you. Busted, you could only blush when he saw you’d scrolled years back.
‘Checkin’ me out, baby?’ he asked, and you didn’t notice he’d called you baby for the first time, didn’t know that this wouldn’t be the last.
‘Research, Dee,’ you said, warmly. ‘Could be a serial killer.’
‘You think if I was a serial killer I’d be posting on my socials about it?’
‘A normal serial killer? No. You? Maybe.’
He laughed then, put his head back and really let it shake his chest, and you liked it, wondered how you could get him to do it again.
The whole night he wouldn’t let you buy your own drinks, wouldn’t let you shout him a charcuterie plate, wouldn’t let you get away with anything. The way he looked at you was so unnerving, like he was looking deeper into you then you had even traversed, and you realised after a while that it was because he was listening, actually listening, with his whole body.
His leg was jiggling, and his hands never stopped moving, and you had assumed that he would be scattered and inattentive like most of the other neurotic actors you’d met, but he was locked onto you, his gaze both intense and open, his smile creeping up on one side when you tried to break the tension with some limp little joke. He wasn’t at all what you had expected. You texted your friends to tell them you couldn’t make it, after all.
Dieter was really glad for the Ritalin he’d scored off his dealer on the way in that night, could feel that it had settled his mind just enough to appear normal, not terrified, in your presence. He had wanted to meet you straight, had intended to be sober, and he figured since these were prescription he was basically there. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t his prescription. It was someone’s.
The whole way over he’d fretted about being late, that you wouldn’t like him, that his universe was too different to yours. You weren’t from LA, didn’t yet have the kind of hyper-self-absorption the city engendered in its citizens. Scarier still, all the evening he’d watched you at the party he’d seen you drink all of two beers, turning down shots and pills when they were passed around, somehow brave enough to face the city straight. He admired and feared it, found you formidable in your ability to do this shit sober. He wanted to be like you. A couple of pills and he basically was.
He laughed when you did, and smiled when you did, and he felt the little threads reach around and spool themselves around the string between you, felt them thicken into a guide rope.
--
Simon was dealt with by the time you had your second date. You’d confessed to Dieter at the bar that since you’d arrived in LA you’d been working pretty much non-stop, and hadn’t even managed to get to the beach.
The drive up to Malibu made you kind of woozy and you put your hand on his knee as he drove to steady yourself. Dieter felt the petals of something precious and delicate unfurling in his chest, and he drove with his hand resting atop yours, the windows down and fucking up his hair and him not caring, not wanting to shut it out.
‘You’ve been to a beach before, though, right?’ he suddenly asked, worried for a moment he’d need to explain to you about currents and waves, riptides and marine stingers, suddenly overawed by the prospect of keeping you safe. You’d laughed, a tinkering little thing, and he’d taken his eyes off the road for just a moment to imprint the image of you, happy in his passenger seat, sun streaming in through the window behind you as you fought to keep your hair under control.
‘Of course, Dee, just not…the LA ocean.’
‘What’s so different about the LA ocean, baby?’ he’d asked, grinning at you.
‘It’s beautiful but kind of empty,’ you’d said, grinning back, before smugly adding ‘polluted, too.’
Down by the shoreline Dieter laid out two beach towels and popped a beach umbrella up over your heads, keeping his cap low over his eyes and avoiding the gaze of people wondering by. You’d observed him, quietly, your face open and exposed.
‘You have to do that a lot?’ you’d asked him, and he’d shrugged. He didn’t seem worried about it, but you couldn’t imagine how it wasn’t stressful.
‘Got used to it,’ he said.
‘Yeah, but that’s…it’s a lot to get used to.’
He shrugged again, staring out at the ocean, going quiet. ‘You get good at learning how to blend in, how to disappear completely.’
You followed his eyeline to the horizon, before you swivelled back to look him right in the eyes. ‘Don’t, though,’ you said. ‘Not completely.’
Later, he took you to a private alcove, brushing the hair out of your eyes as he pushed you up against a boulder resting against the shore and kissed you, tasting of cigarettes and green juice. 
--
You knew what the third date meant, especially in a town like LA. You’d been surprised and a little disappointed that all he’d done at the beach was feel you up a little, kiss you like you held the last of the world’s oxygen in your lungs. You felt something bubbling away in your bloodstream, a dawning awareness that you really liked this guy, that this could go either very well or catastrophically bad, and normally that would be enough to shy you away but something about Dieter made you want to see.
He was supposed to pick you up after work, but by the time you got off set and stood in the car park trying to adjust your hair in the sideview of someone’s Audi, you felt your phone vibrate. He was calling, and you realised as you answered that he had texted you several times, too.
‘Baby?’ he said, and he sounded different. You’d felt the little drip of worry in your belly.
‘Yeah, I’m here,’ you said, trying to keep your tone light. You could hear business on the other end of the line, people talking over each other, someone yelling instructions.
‘I had a thing, and I forgot about it,’ he said, and he sounded frazzled in a way that confused you.
‘A thing?’
‘A work thing, a stupid one of those…when they interview you while you have the photoshoot at the same time, and there’s just so many fucking cameras in my face.’
You hadn’t met this Dieter before. As he spoke he was working himself up, getting angrier. ‘What the fuck?’ he called out, suddenly, and you shuddered.
‘Dee?’ you asked, trying to bring his attention back to you.
‘Sorry, baby, just someone trying to put makeup on me while I’m literally on the fucking phone having a private conversation.’
 You could hear the venom in it, the frustration. Had been on the end of it yourself so many times from other shithead actors while you were just trying to do your job.
‘Dee!’ you admonished him, letting it slip out before you really had time to think about it. ‘Don’t talk to them like that.’
You heard him scoff, and then silence. He cleared his throat. You were angry now, a wave of end-of-day fatigue washing over you, replacing what had been excitement and leaving you washed out, sodden.
‘You’re right, I’m sorry,’ he said, after a long moment. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, louder this time, as if he was talking to someone walking away from him at speed. ‘They’re just all over me all the time,’ he said, and now he sounded small.
‘Listen, I’m really tired,’ you said, turning around to head back towards the bus stop at the end of the lot. ‘Maybe we can try another time.’
‘When?’ he shot back, and you stammered. ‘Don’t just say another time like you’re about to ghost me. I’m sorry. Fuck! I just…the day got on top of me, my assistant fucked up my schedule. And that’s not his fault he’s got a lot on, I’m not saying that, I just...’
You listened to him ramble. This had been the Dieter you expected all along. You wondered what had changed. If he’d been acting at the bar, on the beach.
‘Baby?’ he said, and you realised it had been a while since you’d said anything.
‘Umm…well I don’t have an assistant, so I’ll have to check my schedule myself and get back to you.’ You’d wanted it to be light-hearted, to be gentle and charming, but you were tired, and your mouth was turning bitter from the disappointment you were holding in it.
‘Right,’ he said. There was more commotion on the other end of the line, someone else yelling, someone calling for him. You swallowed, hard.
‘Dee I gotta go, the bus is coming. I hope your shoot video interview thing goes well. Take care.’
It had sounded final. You weren’t sure if it was. If you wanted it to be.
--
Later that night, in your sweats and having spent 45 minutes whingeing about fucking actors to your bestie back in Colorado, you were getting ready to go to bed. The whole night had felt sour, your frozen pizza tasting weirdly vinegary, your glass of wine pulling strangely at your salivary glands. You had wanted to forget the weird night, to wake up in the morning and start fresh, and that been your every intention until your door buzzed.
You just fucking knew it was him. You didn’t even have to call down through the intercom but you did anyway. You looked as good as you felt, and you knew that it was inevitable that he was going to come up, and you didn’t want his apologies or excuses anywhere near as much as you didn’t want to have to have this conversation at all. What did you really mean to each other, anyway? It had been two dates. It didn’t matter that your belly felt weird all night, that you had an ache in your chest you weren’t sure what to do with. That would go as quickly as it came.
He was at the door within moments, pushing his way into your apartment, reaching for you as if you were about to slip away.
‘Baby I’m so sorry,’ he said, pushing you into the living room and also pulling you to him. You weren’t sure if he’d even closed the door behind him. ‘I need to explain,’ he said, and you waved him away, trying to move away from him just a little, to give yourself some breathing space. He just pulled you closer. You liked it as much as you found it suffocating.
‘Dee, it’s OK,’ you said, but he was shaking his head, his eyes so earnest you stopped trying to pretend you weren’t hurting.
‘I have to explain that my brain is weird,’ he said, and you couldn’t help but smile at his phrasing. He didn’t falter though, and lifted his hand to your cheek to keep your gaze on him. ‘I don’t know how exactly, but it’s just never really worked like anyone else’s.’
You nodded at him, because this was serious, you’d realised. He wasn’t kidding. He was revealing something quiet and precious.
‘I wasn’t any good at school, but I could remember things so well. I can remember my lines after I’ve only seen them one time. And I love…the creative energy, it just feels like a lot of the time my brain is kind of alive when I’m working, but also other times, like when I’m trying to get some sleep.’
You looked down at his feet, saw that he was rocking backwards and forwards a little. He was nervous, fidgeting. You looked back up at his chocolate brown eyes, so earnest.
‘I’m bad at keeping on top of things, and I…for a while there I took a lot of drugs because…well, because I liked them,’ at this his dimples emerged and you grinned at him because you couldn’t help yourself, ‘but also because sometimes they made it go quiet. But not anymore, so sometimes I just get a bit…overwhelmed. I don’t want you to think I don’t care. About you. I do.’
You couldn’t say anything, had no idea what you could possibly say. Dieter watched you, watched the way this news was sinking in by your eyebrows, how they saddled up when you were listening, dropped down as you thought. He hadn’t wanted to practice this, exactly, but all the way over he’d thought of what he wanted to say. At the crunch, though, he’d just let all the worlds fall out onto the carpet at your pretty little feet.
You exhaled, and he felt his stomach lurch. He wondered for a moment if you would throw him out. You seemed strong enough to. He would understand.
‘I think I get it,’ you said, eventually. ‘But how come the other night, and the beach? It felt…different.’
Many months later, after you had left and all Dieter had of you was the rubble where your partnership had collapsed, his mind would come back to this moment. Looking back on it, it felt like one of those times where realities branched off into two different directions, and he couldn’t help but to ponder how things could have been if he’d told you the truth. Had considered it for more than a moment, before he’d decided he didn’t need to so long as his Ritalin guy never dried up.
‘That was me,’ he said, preying somewhere under the multimillion dollar franchises, beer commercials, buried under the dregs of the methylphenidate hydrochloride, he was still a good actor. ‘This is just…I’ve just had a bad day. Works made me crazy. I’ll do better, baby, I promise.’
He pulled you closer, stared down at your lips as your jaw stayed tight in indecision. He ran his thumb down your cheek, watched as your eyes went soft as he gazed at you. ‘These your PJs?’ he asked, looking you up and down, his dimples popping out as he grinned at you. You looked down at your sweats.
‘Wasn’t expecting company,’ you said, as he reached out and plucked at the hem of your ratty sleep shirt.
‘Like ‘em,’ he said, and he was inching closer to you now, letting go of your cheek to run his hand around your back, pulling you closer to him. Up this close he could smell the last of your perfume, could feel the warmth of you in his arms. Your muscles were relaxing, the tension leaving your shoulders. He bent down and put a little kiss just behind your ear. ‘Like ‘em better on the floor,’ he whispered, before he picked you up and hoisted you over his shoulder. You screamed in his ear, your world suddenly tilting 180 degrees.
‘To the bedroom!’ he announced, as if he was launching a great expedition, giggling as you tried to wriggle from his grasp before quickly realising he had no idea where he was going. ‘Oh shit, which way?’ he asked, as you reached down and grabbed the back of his pant legs, steering him like some kind of upside-down Ratatouille, towards your bed.  
Taglist (let me know if you'd like me to add you) @harriedandharassed @readingiskeepingmegoing @missladym1981 @misstokyo7love @ghostofzion @dieterbravobrainrotclub
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eggcats · 2 days
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I know it's common for, in radiostatic fics that get rid of Valentino, to get rid of the pornography empire they have, and I GET why, but in my own personal opinion I don't think it's always the best move
In my Housewife Vox AU, I've kept that part of the media empire Vox owns and simply changed ownership of being the overlord in charge of that to be Angel Dust (owned by Alastor) - (in the original deal, Val and Vox's agreement was a lot more equal, but to exert control, prevent a power grab, and make sure Angel can't do anything to hurt Vox or his empire, Alastor took Angel's soul)
(I also hate Val, so I did have him killed in the 80/90s and Angel taking over THEN, but even still, in my AU, Vox did decide to partner with Valentino to add control over hell's pornography into his empire because it'd be foolish not to, considering the power that would add)
Because, like, IMO the issue with that section of visual media was because of HOW Valentino was doing it (abusing his staff, using his venom to coerce people into it, creating the date rape drugs, etc) - but if you take that part out, it makes more sense for a media mogul who owns as much of the media and technology in the Pride Ring he can TO also have a monopoly on the pornography available - it's not like simply not owning it would mean it doesn't exist, so you might as well be the one to do it, do it right, and get the money from it, yeah?
I do think, though, that once Angel took over, he and Vox DID go over all of Val's previous contracts to make sure their employees still wanted the job they had signed their souls over for - the ones who didn't want to do pornography anymore were simply moved to other jobs; and Angel doesn't have issues signing new people on (even/especially without the drugging) because the contracts are relatively fair and the staff treatment at the studio is fine, so for many freshly fallen it's a good way to not be begging on the streets and to have a steady income
ALSO, because Alastor would go ballistic if any of Angel's employees hit on Vox or tried to get him to sleep with them, ALASTOR is usually the one visiting Angel at the studio when the need arises (he's not particularly bothered by sex work, he just has no interest in partaking in any part of it and generally doesn't want to think about it)
Alastor is aware of himself enough to know that if Vox came home smelling like the sinners and sex of the studio, he wouldn't be able to control the rampage he'd go on and would unintentionally clear out half of Angel's employees - which would be bad for Vox
Angel agrees, because no matter HOW many times he warns his employees not to, some will inevitably still hit on Alastor - who just ignores it and doesn't see it as anything relevant (so Vox never finds out to be the one murdering them) - but if Alastor saw/heard/smelled even a hint of them flirting with Vox it'd be a bloodbath worse than when he killed Val
Also, ironically, Angel can flirt with them both with no repercussions because somehow neither of them see him as a threat, and other than very close to his rut, Alastor considers Angel's scent on Vox not something to be alarmed about - like he's fine with Rosie and Niffty's scents as well
(Angel will never admit even under threat of death, but if Alastor and Vox ever did seriously take up his offer to be their third in the bedroom he's jumping at the chance - but he knows the only reason he's alive is because they think it's a joke. It's not. He knows it'll almost definitely never happen, but if the offer ever comes up, he's saying yes, immediately, lol).
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touchlikethesun · 7 months
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i think it's worth interrogating why, for some, "thinness" is associated with gender affirmation and niceness. i think it's worth interrogating why, for some, being bigger is associated with agression and ugliness. i think, if your first impulse to someone suggesting a character be depicted in a larger body is, "fuck you ewww how dare you," that maybe just maybe, you might have a few biases that you need to unpack. this is not saying that artists can't draw what they like, this isn't saying people can't headcanon what they like, but i wish people would think a bit deeper about why they view thinness as so desirable, and fatness as such an affront.
#i tried to be calm in the post but imma be a bitch in the tags#your skinny femme sirius is not fucking oppressed#and the way people in this fandom talk about thinness is genuinely triggering for me and for a lot of people#one thinness is not associated with a fucking gender#people of all sizes exist across the gender spectrum#what message do you thinks it sends if being skinny is integral to your conception of gender??? genuinely what do you think?#what message do you thinks it sends when fat characters are demonised ridiculed or flat out ignored???#clearly you guys read harry potter growing up because you talk just like JKR#now i'm a bit older and i've done so much fucking work on my body image on making peace with myself on breaking out of ED and diet culture#but if i was 16 and still deep in my ED i would absorb this message like a fucking sponge#and i would probably be right there with you being revolted by fatness#don't take this as an attack take it as a chance to reflect on why you think the things you do and on the effects your words have on others#for me personally i really find super skinny super femme sirius triggering because of my history with EDs and my own gender issues#but for the most part i've made my peace with the fact that this is MY issue and so i try not to comment on it#everyone has their own experiences and i think it's good to be mindful of that#and learn when the best policy is to just disengage#i didn't comment on the post that sparked this initially because that's what i was trying to do#but i kept seeing it and i kept seeing some really awful things being said about fatness and masculinity and i just don't think that's righ#marauders#sirius black#ed mention#fatphobia#fandom culture
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liliacamethyst · 1 year
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Webs of Fate - Miguel O'Hara (Part II)
Sequel to Web of Secrets
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Miguel O'Hara x SpiderSun Reader
words: 5.2K
warnings: secret pregnancy trope, swearing, angst, heartbreak, grumpy/sunshine, smut, time jumps, not really comic accurate (canon events), semi public piv, 18+
Part I Part II Part III Part IV
You are all back at the Spider-Verse Headquarters and the atmosphere is tense. Everyone is still high on adrenaline from the mission. You’re nursing a deep gash on your arm but your spirit is far from broken.
Miguel, however, seems to be on the verge of an explosion.
“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT OUT THERE SPIDER SUN?” he bursts out, his voice echoing through the HQ.
You're taken aback. “What do you mean?”
“That reckless behavior! You could have been killed!” he roars. “Why didn’t you retreat when you were injured?!”
“Because there were lives at stake! I can handle myself, Miguel!” you shout back.
“You think this is a game?! You think being part of this team is just for kicks?” Miguel’s face is red, his voice strained.
“Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare question my dedication!” you yell, your own anger now matching his.
The team is watching, shifting uncomfortably. Gwen looks at Jess, who shakes her head. The room is thick with tension.
Alright, if you are being honest with yourself, your recent actions in the field could definitely be classified as reckless. Perhaps even bordering on idiotic - not that you’d ever confess that in front of Miguel. You didn’t know where your mind went. Wait, no, scratch that. You knew precisely where your thoughts were, every mission since you discovered your pregnancy has been like this; your spider senses dulled, focus scattered to the wind, and reflexes that would’ve made a sloth proud.
And then there was this mission – your first one in quite a while alongside Miguel. He was bound to notice.
So you were fighting an Electro variant from an alternate universe, alongside Jess, Gwen, Ben and Miguel. The electric villain was throwing bolts of energy left and right and everyone was giving their all. You noticed a civilian trapped under some debris. You made a beeline for them, not thinking about anything else.
As you lifted the debris, an energy bolt flew straight for you. Usually, your Spider-Senses would have alerted you but not today. It hit you square in the back and sent you flying.
You hit a wall but ignored the pain as you scrambled back to your feet. A sharp ache spread across your arm but you gritted your teeth and kept fighting.
Miguel yelled, “What the hell are you doing?! Fall back!”
But you didn’t, you kept pushing forward.
He landed next to you, his eyes filled with anger and something else, maybe a hint of worry. He grabbed your waist to pull you back. But as another energy bolt was coming your way, you shoved him out of the path, taking the hit for the second time. So yeah, you could say that this mission wasn't exactly the shining star in your superhero career.
“ESTÚPIDA! So damn stupid. I won’t fucking watch someone throw their life away recklessly!” Miguel was now yelling loudly in oyur face for everyone in the HQ to hear.
“Oh, please. What’s it to you? Since when do you care, Miguel?!” you shout back, finally having enough of his insufferable attitude. “All this time, you’ve treated me like I’m dispensable. Like I don't matter! Well, guess what? I can fight, I can make decisions, and I don’t need you to approve them!”
“Don’t!” Miguel's voice cracks, and for a brief second, there’s a look of hurt on his face that surprises you. But his rage quickly replaces it. “I cannot do this anymore with you, ¿me entiendes?” he yells.
The room falls silent. Everyone’s gazes dart between you and Miguel. You can feel Gwen’s worried eyes on you, and Ben Riley. looks like he wants to intervene, but this moment is too charged.
You take a deep breath, tears welling up. “I can't do this anymore either,” you whisper.
“What?” Miguel's voice is barely audible.
“I can't keep fighting for a team where I’m not respected or trusted. Where you treat me constantly like a liability, like I am worth nothing to you,” you say, your voice steadier now.
“You don’t know what you are saying,” Miguel says, his tone slightly softening.
You turn around, your eyes welling up once again and open a portal to your universe. “I do, I quit” you say, your voice breaking.
You reach into your pocket and pull out your transdimensional gizmo, the small device that every Spider-person uses to travel across the multiverse. It's an intricate piece of technology, a blend of science and magic that fits in the palm of your hand.
You toss the device on the table in front of Miguel. It skids across the surface before coming to a stop right in front of him. He looks from the gizmo to you, his expression unreadable.
"Take it. We don’t need it anymore." You say defiantly, meeting his gaze.
Everyone knows the implication of you returning the gizmo. Without it, you're effectively stranded in your universe, unable to return to the society. This isn't a decision made lightly, it's a point of no return.
As you step through the portal, you glance back one last time. You see Miguel’s face, contorted in pain, but he doesn’t move, he doesn’t speak and he doesn't stop you.
Your heart is breaking, but you can’t stay here. Not when it’s this painful.
You turn away and head toward the portal room, with one hand lightly grazing your tummy. Gwen calls your name, but you don’t stop.
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In the dim light of the room, the world seems to fade away as you lie there with Miguel on top of you. You are under him, breathless, your fingers running through his hair. His body pins you down in a tender, electrifying way, and you can feel the rhythm of his heart beating against yours.
His fangs graze the curve of your neck lightly, eliciting a shiver that runs through you. In response, he nuzzles into you, his breath warm against your skin.
"Ever think about what we're doing?" he asks in a whisper that vibrates against your neck.
"Constantly," you respond, your fingers tracing the curve of his broad shoulders, "but I don’t regret it, not a moment.”
He lifts his head, his red orbs searching yours. “Neither do I,” he says, his voice barely more than a whisper. His hand reaches up to trace the contour of your face.
"You know," you whisper, your hands continuing caressing his back, "I always wondered what it was like in your universe, in your time."
He shifts a little, propping himself up on one elbow as he looks down at you. His eyes, usually as unreadable, now seem to crack open; emotions swirl within them like stars.
"It was great, you know," his voice is gentle, each word enveloping you. "No, more than that – it was perfect," he corrects himself. His eyes never leave yours as he continues, "I had my Gabriella. Ah, you would have adored her." His voice softens to a mere whisper as if speaking her name too loudly might shatter the memory. "She was this incredible burst of life just like you. My own little sunshine. I didn’t know my heart could hold so much until she came into my life."
"The way she would throw her head back and laugh, it was like music. Her tiny hands – so soft and gentle. I remember how one of them always found mine, and the world felt... right." He continued, "I was never alone, never empty." He swallows hard, as if trying to keep the flood of emotions from washing over him.
You cup his cheek gently, smiling up at him. "You don't have to be alone, you know?"
He lets out a dry chuckle. “Sometimes it feels like there's no other option. It’s my fate."
“What scares you the most, Miguel?” you suddenly ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
He hesitates. “To lose myself… to forget what it means to care for someone,” he finally confesses.
“You won’t,” you assure him, your thumb stroking his cheek. “Not if you don’t let yourself.”
“¿y tú?” His voice is husky. “What’s your biggest fear?”
“To be forgotten,” you whisper.
He lowers himself and presses his forehead against yours. “Imposible,” he breathes. “You’re the sun. No one forgets the sun.”  He pulls you closer, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, his arms tighten around you, pulling you closer until the world outside disappears.
Suddenly, his wrist console beeps, yanking him back to the present. "O’Hara, are you okay?" Lyla's voice echoes in the room, breaking the silence. He blinks, his gaze focusing on the holographic screen displaying the mission details in front of him. "Yeah, Lyla," he responds, his voice a bit hoarse. "Just remembered something," he murmurs, and refocuses on the screen before him.
Amidst the sea of codes and numbers, Miguel finds himself struggling to focus. His thoughts still are consumed by you, and a heavy realization crashes down upon him like a tidal wave - he’s lost you forever.
He always knew that this was how it was meant to be. This was the only logical conclusion, the inevitable outcome that he had tried so hard to deny. He was aware of the potential repercussions, the cosmic imbalance that could be brought about by your intertwining fates. 
Lyla had warned him multiple times, cautioned him against letting you close. But how could he have possibly resisted you? You, who shone brighter than the sun, who captured the hearts of everyone around with your aura and your kind soul. Your beauty was unparalleled, and your laughter had the power to fill a room, casting away shadows. He was a moth drawn to your flame, hopelessly captivated from the very first day he met you.
 But you were never meant to be his story, not the path his life was meant to tread. You belonged to another world, another universe.
"You're thinking about her, aren't you?" Lyla breaks the silence with her smooth, computerized voice. “No,” he interrupts her sharply, his voice a little too forceful.
But Lyla isn't easily deterred. "You know it was dangerous from the beginning, Miguel," Lyla continues. "Engaging with her like that...it could have caused irreparable damage to the multiverse."
"I know," he replies curtly.
Unyielding, Lyla continues, "This was never supposed to be a canon event. Her universe is not meant to mix with yours. It's fortunate that she left when she did. The damage could've been—"
“I KNOW!” Miguel suddenly erupts, his voice thundering through the room. He screams, his frustration boiling over, "¡Ya lo sé, Lyla! ¡Basta ya!" ("I already know, Lyla! Enough already!") With a loud grunt, he sweeps his arm across his desk, sending his keyboard, mug, and various other items crashing to the ground.
There is a deafening silence as Miguel breathes heavily, his chest heaving. His eyes are wide, his face is flushed and his fangs are bared. He never loses control, not like this.
Lyla, for once, remains silent.
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3 months later…
Back in Nea Yorkey, Earth 586 , you are perched on the rooftop, absentmindedly rubbing your stomach. Time has passed since you left Nueva York and Miguel, but your feelings for him are still a tangled mess. Damn these pesky pregnancy hormones.
 For once, it’s pretty calm out there. No honking horns in traffic jams or the usual buzz of people everywhere. It’s like the city hit the pause button and honestly, it’s kind of nice. The streetlights are like tiny fairy lights all over, and the tall buildings around you feel like they’re keeping you company.
The cool breeze brushes against your face, and you can't help but be lost in your thoughts. Thoughts of him. The relentless flood of emotions is almost too much to handle.
The flashback hits you hard, placing you right back in Miguel's office late one evening. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, your backside planted firmly on his desk amidst strewn cables and metallic pieces and half-empty coffee mugs.
"Miguel, someone will catch us," you had warned, your breath hitching as he nipped at your skin, his hands deftly moving to undo your skintight suit. His hair was a little longer then, the ends tickling your forehead as he kissed you.
He had just chuckled, the sound deep and throaty, making your heart flutter. "They know better than to disturb me," he'd responded confidently, his lips trailing fiery kisses along your jawline.
Usually, Miguel was cautious about showing any sign of affection when others might be around, even if 'around' meant anywhere in the sprawling headquarters of the Spider Society. Yet, that night, he seemed to throw caution to the wind.
In his enclosed office, late into the evening, he let his guard down - a rarity. His lips were insistent against your skin, his touch setting you alight. You remember how the soft glow of the desk lamp had caught in his eyes, making them appear even more mesmerizing.
As he was holding your ass up steady and pounding into you, in a pace and fervor you never experienced before, you hear his communicator ring vibrating. You instinctively attempt to pull away, assuming he would answer the call, but he holds you tighter, his lips never leaving your skin.
His free hand pulls up a holographic screen,which flickered to life above the desk, revealing a slightly pixelated image of Jess. You panic for a moment, worried that she might see you in this intimate moment with Miguel, but he just shook his head slightly, reassuring you that she can't. He must have filtered the video feed on his end.
“Yes, Jess?” Miguel’s voice was steady, but his breath ghosted your neck in short spurts. He continued with his action, his thrusts a little slower but deep, nevertheless. You clamp your teeth down onto Miguel's shoulder in a desperate attempt to stifle the moans escaping your throat, your senses overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. You can barely contain yourself. Miguel's soft, amused chuckle vibrate through you as he wraps his arms around you protectively. Asshole.
“We’ve got an anomaly on Earth-4067, seems like a temporal rift,” Jess's voice came through the hologram.
“Have you tried the Q-particle stabilizer?” Miguel asks, his voice so casual it's almost disarming. His eyes meet yours, a playful glint in them.
“Yeah, but it didn’t work. The rift is actually growing,” Jess responds, the worry in her voice increasing. “What do you think we should do?”
“Alright, I want you to reconfigure the dimensional frequency to match the rift. Then patch the satellite feed through the Alchemax algorithm, reverse the temporal frequency by 4.7 hertz and use the resonance pulse to stabilize the rift,” Miguel articulates with authority as he continues to pick up his pace. You’re close to the edge, with the euphoria threatening to make you cry out. The sheer pleasure is now tinged with a faint edge of pain, and a wave of panic crashes over you. The thought of Jess possibly hearing you is nerve-wracking, and you’re now fighting to suppress your screams.
Your breathing becomes erratic as you whisper in a hoarse, needy voice, “Miguel, ‘m close."
"I know, mami. Come for me," he whispers back, his voice filled with a playful mischief that seems to defy the gravity of the situation. His hot breath against your ear sends shivers down your spine and the wave of pleasure crushes down on you.
“Miguel, are you sure about this? I mean, if something goes wrong…” Jess hesitates.
“I’m sure, Jess.” Thrust. “Do.” Another hard thrust. “it.” Miguel’s voice turns forceful.
“Okay, I trust you. But... are you alright? You sound kinda breathless,” Jess's suspicion returns.
“Oh, just...uh...running some diagnostics. It’s a bit stuffy in here,” Miguel replies with a smirk on his face, his fingers now gently brushing against your bare heated skin.
The rooftop is silent again, and you're still rubbing your belly, where the life you and Miguel created is growing. A bittersweet tear rolls down your cheek as you wish, not for the first time, that things could have been different.
You don’t know how long you are sitting there, taking in the city scene. But it was getting dark, when a familiar figure swings onto the rooftop. It's Gwen, carrying a small package in her hand. “Gwen? What brings you to Nea Yorkey?”
She walks up to you with a soft smile, "Do I need a reason to visit my favourite Spider-Ma? I've got something for you."
You raise an eyebrow as she hands you the package. As you unwrap it, you find a tiny Spider-Man hat, similar to the one Mayday usually wears. And to your surprise, there’s a tiny anarchy pin, attached to it.
"From the group," she says softly. She adds, pointing at the pin, "This bit here, that’s from Hobie." Of course it is.
You’re moved to tears as you hug the hat close. It's a simple gift, yet it means so much. You feel a lump in your throat, and Gwen steps forward, wrapping you in a warm, comforting hug.
"I...I miss all of you so much," you manage to whisper, your voice choked with emotion.
"We miss you too," Gwen replies, her voice equally soft.
You pull back, wiping your eyes. Gwen tries to lighten the mood, "So, any guesses on the gender? I bet it’s a boy."
You shrug, a small smile tugging at your lips, "I don't care what it's going to be. I just want them to be healthy."
Gwen grins, "Just remember, if it is a boy and he turns out to be a handful, you owe me a soda."
You both sit on the edge of the rooftop in a comfortable silence, legs swinging over the city, the conversation turns more serious.
"So," you venture, "how are things back at the Spider Society?"
Gwen’s expression turns contemplative. "It's been... strange since you left," she admits.
"Strange how?" you prod.
"Well, you know how Miguel was always a little on the, uh, grumpy side?" she says, making a grimace.
"You mean being a brooding fortress of doom and gloom?" you quip, and Gwen chuckles.
"Yeah, that. Well, he's gotten worse since you left. Like, way worse," Gwen's face turns somber as she continues. "He’s even more closed off than before. His temper’s shorter, he barely communicates, and he's been pushing everyone away. Miguel’s basically got everyone on lockdown. No unauthorized visits between universes. There’s this... I don’t know... this cloud hanging over him, you know?”
Your heart tightens as you take in her words. You had no idea that your departure had such an impact on him, or anyone for that matter.
“He doesn’t talk about it, but I think he misses you,” Gwen adds, looking directly into your eyes.
You are torn. Part of you wants to be angry at Miguel for how things went down, but another part aches for him.
Gwen nudges you. "Maybe he needs his sunshine back," she says with a gentle smile.
You sit in silence for a moment, the weight of Gwen’s words sinking in. “Don’t be silly. I was never his sunshine.”
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4 months later…
Beneath the pale glow of hospital lights, pain and joy mingle in the delivery room. The grip you have on the sheets gets tighter as you push to usher your baby into the world. Your hair is sticking to your forehead, your breath comes in heaving gasps, exhaustion painting dark circles under your eyes.
Meanwhile, unbeknownst to you, a portal flickers to life outside your window, and Gwen, Peter B., and Hobie emerge.
“Make way! The party has arrived!” Peter B. exclaims loudly.
“I don’t believe in parties.” Hobie says as he struts in, clad in his Spider suit with a leather jacket over it, pins and patches proudly displayed.
Gwen knocks at your door. The midwife, busy with you in the labor, answers.
“Uh, who are you?” the midwife asks, slightly agitated.
“We’re friends of hers,” Peter gestures towards you, “is it a good time?”
You hear their voices, but you cant muster up a response all you can do is scream and push.
“Blimey, I didn’t think it’d be like somethin’ outta Alien! You alright there, love?” Hobie’s eyes go wide, as he enters the room.
You can't help but laugh through the pain, "Oh, just peachy, thanks for asking."
Gwen steps forward, immediately grabbing your hand, her voice soothing, “Hey, you’re doing great. Is there anything we can do?”
“You could get Hobie out of here,” you jest, rolling your eyes, but your smile betrays your appreciation. Another loud scream follows.
“You got this, luv!” Hobie shouts. “Just imagine the bloody contractions as guitar riffs! You’re about to release the raddest album in history!”
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, you hear the cries of your newborn baby.
“Congratulations, it's a boy!” the nurse announces, handing the baby to to you.
You can’t help but laugh. Gwen steps closer to the bed and takes a peek at the baby. Her eyes light up. “Told you, it’s a boy. He’s absolutely beautiful,” she whispers.
Hobie chimes in. “Alright, let’s get a proper look at the little bloke!” He leans in, and his face softens. "Oh, look at 'im!" Hobie exclaims in his thick British accent, peering at him. "Little blighter's a spitting image of 'is mum, ain't he?” No. You see it then, the dark eyes with a hint of red glow echo the intensity of his father's gaze, the dark chocolate hair and the sun kissed complexion. He looked undeniably just like Miguel. You cant help yourself but fall immediately in love with your and Miguel’s little boy.
As they prepare to leave, Gwen, Peter B., and Hobie each take turns holding Gabriel and whispering well-wishes to him. 
“I can’t thank you guys enough for being here,” you say, wiping away a tear.
Peter’s mask is off and he’s beaming. "We couldn't miss this for the multiverse!"
Gwen follows suit, "Yeah! Plus, Hobie wouldn't let us hear the end of it if we didn’t."
“We’re family,” Peter says firmly. “Across universes and timelines. We’re always here for each other.”
With that, the trio put on their masks and with another whoosh, they're gone.
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1 year later...
One year has passed like a whirlwind. You've established a balance in your life. By day, you are a doting mother, and your world revolves around a little ball of energy named Gabriel. His laugh is the music that fuels your day, and his tiny hands holding yours make everything seem alright.
At night, though, you become someone else. Clad in a white suit adorned with golden sun patterns, you swing through the skyscrapers of Nea Yorkey as the Sun Spider. Your heart swells with pride, knowing that you’re keeping the streets and your little boy safe.
Your neighbor, Melissa, sometimes babysits Gabriel. She is a cheerful, quirky 19-year-old neighbor who dreams of becoming an Instagram influencer. You trust her (her career choice not so much) and, most importantly, Gabriel adores her.
Up until today, you believed that he hadn't inherited any powers. However, today was the first time he climbed up a wall and spun a web, without the aid of a web-slinger. It was the first time you witnessed him display such powers, and naturally, you were impressed. However, you also realized that being a mom would now involve dealing with a whole new set of challenges and responsibilities, making everyday life more exhausting than before. But you are up for the challenge;
Meanwhile, in the Spider Society’s HQ in Nueva York, Lyla’s holographic screen blinks red as she detects an anomaly in Earth 586 - your universe. She reports it to Miguel, who is still his grumpy self, seemingly even more irritable with each day passing.
“There’s a presence in Earth 586 that does not belong,” Lyla reports in her emotionless tone.
Miguel, sitting at his desk, sighs deeply. “Assemble the team. Pavitr, Lego Spider-Man, and... let’s bring in the newbie, Miles.”
Minutes later, the trio is briefed about the anomaly – a two-year-old child. They are to extract the child and bring it back.
Back in your universe, you're facing off against a notorious villain – The Shocker, who is on a rampage downtown. His high-frequency shock waves shake the very foundations of the buildings around you.
“Not tonight, Shocker,” you quip as you dodge a blast. “I’ve got a bedtime story to read!”
You're agile and sharp, but you can’t wait to get back home to Gabriel.
In your apartment, Melissa is on the couch, engrossed in her phone. She doesn't notice Pavitr slyly slipping into Gabriel's room. He can’t help but feel conflicted, seeing the innocent child asleep.
“This is the target?” Pavitr speaks in a hushed tone into his communicator. His voice is laced with doubt.
“Yes, proceed,” responds Miguel firmly.
Pavitr gently picks up Gabriel, cradling him in his arms. “Sorry, little guy,” he whispers and slips out.
Outside, they gather near the portal. Miles, who is visibly excited to be on his first mission, can sense the tension among the group.
“That was… too easy,” Pavitr murmurs, still holding the sleeping child.
Through the swirling portal, they make their way back to Nueva York.
Meanwhile, you web up The Shocker and leave him hanging for the police.
Back in the Spider Society's HQ in Nueva York, the team stands in a specialized containment room with the toddler still peacefully sleeping nestled in a makeshift bed of spider-web, completely oblivious to the attention he's attracting. One by one, members of the Spider Society trickle into the room, drawn by curiosity and concern.
Miles, who is new to the Spider Society, looks at the child with confusion. "I don't get it, what's so dangerous about a kid?" he asks.
Pavitr looks conflicted, “We have to determine where he came from and why he is considered an anomaly.”
Lego Spider-Man remains silent, trying to analyze the situation. He finally speaks up. "We should be cautious. Just because it's a child doesn't mean it's not potentially hazardous to the multiverse."
Miguel enters the room, his face cold and emotionless. He glances at the sleeping child, then at his team. “It doesn’t matter what it is. Anomalies threaten the balance of the multiverse. Every anomaly has to be returned to its home universe. That’s the rule.” he says sternly.
"But he's not an anomaly, boss," Jess adds, gazing fondly at the child. "He's a little boy."
Miguel’s gaze is unwavering, ignoring Jess. “Lyla? Whats the status?” 
Lyla's holographic form flickers into the room. "This entity possesses unknown powers," she declares, her voice ringing out with clinical detachment. "And according to my scans, it doesn't belong to any known universe. Therefore, it cannot be returned. It must be... eliminated."
Miles' eyes widen. “Wait, you mean…?” he can’t bring himself to finish the sentence.
Pavitr steps forward, his fists clenched. “We can’t just... There must be another way.”
Back in your universe, you swing closer to your apartment, but your spider-sense starts are tingling with a ferocity you’ve never experienced before. Your heart races, and you quicken your pace. Bursting through the window, you find Melissa still sitting on the couch, scrolling through her phone.
"Where is he? Where’s Gabriel?!" you shout, panic straining your voice.
Melissa's eyes go wide as she looks up from her phone. "What? He's in his room, sleeping," she says, but her voice falters when she sees the terror on your face.
You rush into Gabriel's room and find the crib empty. Your knees buckle, and a guttural scream escapes your lips. The room spins as you run back to the living room, grabbing Melissa by the shoulders.
"Did anyone come in? Did you see anything?!" you practically scream at her.
“I... I didn’t see anyone. I swear!” Melissa's voice shakes.
Your heart feels like it's tearing apart. You look around the room, desperate for any clue. You need to find your son, and something deep within you tells you that the Spider Society is where you need to go. You have to find a way to travel through the multiverse without a gizmo and the time is ticking. You have to find your son.
Back in the HQ in the midst of the tension-filled room, Gwen stands up, "Miguel, you can't be serious," she pleads, disbelief resonating in her voice. "We can't just... kill a baby.”
Miguel's eyes narrow. "Sometimes tough decisions have to be made for the greater good.”
Just then, little Gabriel wakes up. His big eyes wander curiously around the room, and he starts to make happy babbling sounds. Unfazed by his surroundings, he looks at each of the Spider-People with fascination.
As Peter B. is about to reach down to pick Gabriel up, the toddler crawls quickly over to Miguel. His little face lights up with the purest of smiles and he reaches his tiny arms towards Miguel as if trying to give him a hug.
The room seems to collectively hold its breath. Even Miguel seems taken aback.
Pavitr can't help it, “He seems to have taken a liking to you, boss.”
Gwen smiles, her eyes watering up. “See? Even this innocent soul can sense there’s still good in you.”
Tiny fingers grip at the fabric of Miguel's suit, baby Gabriel coos and giggles as he clambers up the towering figure. Planting tiny baby kisses on any part of Miguel he can reach, the toddler's joyous laughter rings in the silent room. "Vete, Vete." Miguel mutters. And despite Miguel's cold exterior, Gabriel is unphased, drawn to him as though an invisible bond exists between them.
Miguel looks frustrated and uncomfortable with the baby's affection. He awkwardly picks Gabriel up at arm’s length. But the little one is relentless, trying to cuddle into Miguel’s chest.
Annoyed, Miguel places Gabriel into a containment field made of energy beams, to keep him in place. The baby, though restrained, is still reaching out to Miguel with his tiny hands, cooing.
The room goes quiet again, and Gwen speaks, her voice soft.
“Look at him, Miguel. Please. You can’t tell me that this doesn’t affect you in any way.”
Miguel's face is tense, his jaw clenched. His eyes dart between Gwen and Gabriel. All eyes are directed towards Miguel. The room feels like it’s waiting for something to shatter.
“We do what needs to be done, no exceptions.”
Part III "Web of Shadow and Light"
a/n: Honestly, I can't begin to express how much your support and kind messages mean to me. I literally started crying when I saw how much love this story received. It means the world to me. Truly, thank you. I'd love to hear your thoughts, and if someone could give me a heads-up on whether the tag list functioned properly, that would be great. Also, apologies for any inconsistencies or logical errors regarding the multiverse or canon theory. I watched the movie but I'm not 100% sure of that's how it works.
Once again, I really do appreciate each and everyone of you. Please, don’t forget to take good care of yourselves and stay hydrated! ILYSM
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hotyanderedaddies · 6 months
Text
The School Bully Loves You, Pt. 2:
Yandere Bully Gives You Rules to Follow
Part 1
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[Yandere! Bully x GN Nerd! Reader]
·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆
Blake, the school bully who often elicited terrified looks and sent people scurrying to safety, had for some reason claimed you as his.
"You're mine."
That phrase that Blake had growled to you kept replaying in your addled brain over and over.
You didn't exactly know what that meant. However, given your status as the school's resident nerd, you figured that you were meant to be his sole victim for relentless teasing and harassment.
Yet, there you were: Your hand trapped in a deathgrip from none other than Blake.
The rest of the student body cast disbelieving glances towards the two of you, many of them dropping their jaws in shock at the sight of the terrifying bully and the school nerd walking hand-in-hand.
"The fuck are you lookin' at?" Blake spat at some of them, momentarily letting go of your hand as he did so-- only to wrap a possessive, heavy arm around your shoulders.
The terrified glances from the fearful students flickered from Blake to you before diverting altogether.
Your face burned bright hot and the tiny voice in the back of your head told you to run as fast as you could. You totally would've too, had you not been trapped in the hold of the school bully.
You were too busy panicking on the inside to notice when Blake stopped at your locker, did your combo to unlock it, snatched your Pre-Cal textbook out of it (your first class), and led you towards class.
"Wait," you gasped when you finally put two and two together, "how did you know my--?"
"Give me your phone," Blake grunted as soon as the two of you were at your first period class. He stopped right near the door where the rest of the class could easily see you (and quite a few of the nosey ones were gawking), holding out his free hand expectantly.
Oh! This must've been it.
All Blake had really wanted was your phone.
You mentally berated him for being so weird and cryptic if all he'd wanted was a free phone; but you figured that going without a phone for a bit was leagues better than dealing with the school bully twenty-four/seven; hence, you practically thrusted it at the guy.
Blake ignored your eagerness, still keeping one arm secured around you, trapping you tightly against him. You could smell his body spray permeating your senses and the heat from his larger body was overbearing. In fact, thanks to the unwanted proximity, you could clearly see how Blake towered over you and just how muscled he was-- he could easily manhandle you all day if he wanted (and he seemed to REALLY want to lately).
Blake somehow knew your passcode (1-2-3-4) and began to mess around with your phone using his free hand. Seconds later, he handed it back to you.
Before you could ask what was up, Blake quickly leaned down and--
Out of instinct, you jerked back.
Blake frowned and pursed his lips into a thin line. "That's two," he huffed. "I'll be here when class gets out."
"Wh-why?" you couldn't help but ask.
Blake rolled his eyes at you. "So I can walk you to your next class," he grunted, again making it sound like it was obvious. "I'll see you soon, my angel."
With that, Blake gave you a gentle push towards the classroom as he disappeared among the crowd in the hallway.
Throughout class, you struggled to concentrate on the lecture. The whole time, your thoughts kept drifting back to the scary bully who wouldn't leave you alone. Plus, you were hyperaware of the all of the stares from the other students, hearing murmurings involving Blake and you.
Midway through class, your phone vibrated and you glanced at the notifications to see a rather long text from Blake:
My Angel, here's a set of rules that I expect you to follow:
You belong to me and only me
No talking to any other boys
I will drive you to and from school
I will escort you between classes
You will call me every night no later than 9 PM so I can say "Goodnight"
Every weekend you will stay over at my place
I get to hold you whenever I want
You better tell me if someone bothers you or tries to take you away from me so I can have a "chat" with them
I get at least one kiss per day
Tonight I want you to start calling me "Daddy"
Follow these rules and I promise that I will take good care of you.
But disobey these rules and I will punish you. And you're already at two out of three.
See you soon.
Love you.
The blood drained from your face as you read and re-read the text from Blake.
This had to be some sort of sick joke. The school bully had legit just said that he loved you over text. He was lying... right?
Images of his past victims flashing into your mind: black eyes, people getting the crap beat out of them, relentless tormenting, threats of violence and bodily harm-- just hearing the name "Blake" was enough to send shivers down your spine.
Yet, when you really thought about it, Blake never had bullied YOU specifically...
Your phone buzzed again with another notification, this one with an icon that you didn't recognize:
YAN-Tracker: The location tracking app that let's you keep an eye on those most precious to you...
A tracking app?!
That's what Blake had been doing on your phone, downloading some sort of tracking app?
Instinctively, you went to uninstall it, but as soon as you tried, a notification box popped up, requesting a passcode.
You tried to enter in yours, only to be dismayed that it wasn't the correct one.
Your heart raced in your chest as you mulled over all that had happened recently-- all of the signs pointing to a horrifying realization:
Blake, the school bully, wanted you. And he wanted you badly.
Without another word, you quietly got out of your desk (leaving your phone behind), and tip-toed out of class, praying that Blake wouldn't see you making your escape...
To be continued...
·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆
P.S. the following have requested that I tag them in this update as of the posting of this! Thank you very much for reading and I hope you all enjoy this part! @eoryn-shit @paninibit @evan-trand @psychicglitterdetective @springkuinn @vinivave
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chuluoyi · 6 months
Note
i love your comedy and fluff! but my masochistic heart is itching for more angst to fluff for gojo🥲 and i have this brainrot ever since i read "baby", "protect" and "wife": childbirth gone wrong, that's why he is sooo concerned about your wellbeing during your maternity leave~
࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 09:45 P.M 」
tw: childbirth. there are two very same ask for this now and so that's the cue for me to practice my crack/angst more :3 okay this is basically an extended version of protect's epilogue and oh, it's a happy ending! mini sequel -> 11.10 p.m
a part of gojo's love entries
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“you’re always doing whatever you want! ow!”
“deep breaths, sweets. deep brea—”
“easy for you to say! you don't contribute anything other than shoving that damn stick into me! and now i’m left with the consequences!”
“i kindly remind you that you very much enjoyed my stick that night—”
“i hate you!”
satoru looked at your tear-streaked face and patted you in the head—his notable love language, erupting into laughter. “of course you do.”
lying on the hospital bed, tears welled up in your eyes as you roasted your husband and your contractions kept getting closer together. three hours after you woke up to your labor pains, all you could feel was that you were ready to burst.
gripping his hand tight, you purposefully dig your nails in just to spite him. “i’m serious. i hate you. you’re not putting me up for this again!”
“you say that now, but the moment we are home, those words are going to be null and void,” satoru snorted in an attempt to lighten the mood, ignoring the slight pain you inflicted on him, because what was this compared to what you were going through?
but his facade dropped as soon as breath was knocked out of you and you whimpered. he instantly gathered you in his arms.
“hey, hey... take deep breaths...” when you did, he planted a tender kiss on your damp forehead. “that's it, there you go... the baby's going to be here real soon, okay?”
you panted, limp in his hold as dull pain overwhelmed you. “yeah... your baby.”
“our baby, love. not just mine,” he corrected, smiling. he had one hand on your swollen belly, palming the subtle firmness, and gently rubbing it. “our munchkin.”
“i’m just the container though.”
“heh, no,” he chuckled softly. “you're everything.” his eyes crinkled affectionately, a hint of laughter still in his voice, and your heart actually melted when he whispered: “my everything.”
truthfully, despite your bravado, you were scared shitless. yet, as you nestled your head against your husband's strong chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his reassuring heartbeat, and when you gazed into his eyes, you were sure, because he exuded confidence as if he had no doubts that this was going to go perfectly fine.
and so holding onto him you did. he held your hand through it all, talked you through your pain, and you were so, so grateful to have him by your side.
the next hour was a blur, as excruciating pain blinded your senses. you were wailing when everyone told you to push, and you gave it your all. you kept it up even as you felt like being torn apart.
and before you knew it, cries unlike any other, ones you had only imagined until that moment, echoed through the room.
“he's here!” satoru's hitched voice reached your ears, and you went slack, falling back to the sheets.
you were completely spent and all you could register was that the cherished baby both you and satoru had been waiting for was here. you shivered, your mind tuning in and out—lightheaded, wondering why you felt so drenched down there.
“holy shit! i can't believe it! i can’t—” if you were awake enough, you would realize that it was one of the rarest times when satoru was choked with emotions. he turned to you. “i—”
and suddenly you felt strange. an eerie chill seemed to engulf your entire being. your hand slipped from satoru's grasp as your vision dimmed, the world growing darker.
“are you okay? hey—” his voice sounded distant, and you struggled to keep your eyes open. satoru finally realized that something was wrong, as his six eyes discerned the rapid dwindling of your cursed energy, and the room reeked of the tangy scent of blood.
you barely made out the nurse's shouting next. “blood pressure is dropping!”
"come on!" now he was utterly panicked and tried to get a hold of you, shaking you slightly. “hey, stay awake—look at me, i’m right here, please—”
but to his horror, your head lolled back as you lost your consciousness. soon, he was thrown out of the delivery room. just like that, in one sick twist, his world was crumbling down hard and fast.
a sense of helplessness washed over him as he stood outside the room, barred from being by your side. inside, you were bleeding out, and he was unable to do anything but wait.
didn't he say he would protect you with everything he had? once again, gojo satoru was humbled—not everything was in his grasp. he couldn't save those chosen by fate not to be saved.
suddenly, it felt like suguru all over again, except the stakes were higher. he shuddered—his fist clenched so hard that it drew blood, while his other hand clutched his chest, desperately willing the searing pain away.
would he really lose you this way? the sheer thought made his ears ring. no fucking way. even hell knows he'd go berserk. would fate really let him decimate anything in his path? surely, no... right?
he was unaware that he had been murmuring these silent prayers when the doors slid open, revealing the doctor who had been assisting with your delivery earlier with the news. it was a case of a postpartum hemorrhage, she said, an unfortunate incident.
all things considered, you were going to be okay. that knowledge alone was enough to make him breathe freely once more.
when he was allowed to see you, the moment your eyes blinked open, the first thing he did was burying his head in the crook of your neck.
and there you have it—the first time you had ever seen him really shaken to the point of shedding tears.
“you scared me,” he rasped, voice thick with emotion. “i—i can't stop thinking— if you really left me—”
“i’m fine now...” you were somewhat wonderstruck by the knowledge that you had this potent hold over him. oblivious to how your soft voice calmed the depths of his soul, you stroked his hair, and he breathed in your scent, grateful to every force imaginable for returning you back to him.
“sleep,” he gently pulled away, his eyes rimmed with red, his fingers caressing your cheek. “you need it. i’ll be here when you wake up, i promise.”
“the baby—”
“they just cleaned him up. he's resting too,” satoru reassured with an impossibly tender smile, and his next words made your heart lurch.
“my strong girl, you did it. you're a mother now… thank you. thank you... for making me the father to our child.”
you felt like you might burst into tears. you felt so loved, so secure, even after you went through the most challenging ordeal in your life. and as you drifted to your rest, you could hear the love of your life whisper in your ear ever so lovingly—
“i know i have said it before, but i’ll say it again. with everything it is that i have, i swear to you, nothing will befall you and our baby, for i will spare nothing and give everything for both of you... even my own life.”
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yeonzzzn · 2 months
Note
I'm in a spooky vibe rn and I've been thinking about one of the enha members (hyung line) with a scream mask ( y'know from the movie sjshsj) about to m*rder reader but idk they get turned on and both got freaky 🫦
fffuuuuccccckkkk anon your brain is 😍 love this idea so much (fun fact scream is my favorite slasher movie and I even have a ghost face tattoo) I hope this is exactly what you’re looking for🤭 it’s funny because I also main ghost face in dead by daylight so when I saw this request I got SOOOO happy ~ I also made this a lot longer than I expected to but oops🤭🤭
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chill & kill: sim jaeyun
part one of chilling & killing 🔪 | spotify playlist
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pairing: jake x afab!reader word count: 6.4k
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You sit up on the couch, eyes widening as you grab the TV remote and turn up the volume. 
“The mysterious ghost face kill strikes again, killing two more college students in the library this morning. The bodies were discovered by…”
You quickly shot to your feet, grabbing your jacket and camera and slipping your feet into your boots tying them quickly as you slipped out your dorm door. 
You never were so happy to live on campus as you ran from the dorm building and across campus to the library. Students surrounded the main entrance and you pushed your way through finally seeing the inside of the library. 
“Hey!” a police officer yelled at you when you slipped under the caution tape, “You can’t be back here!” 
You eyed him, pulling out your student journaling ID, “I have every right to be here.” 
The officer tried to protest, but you kept your stride, making your way to the bodies ignoring the yelling officer behind you. 
The closer you got, the more the smell of blood filled your senses, making your skin crawl. Your journaling partner was already on the scene, standing at the edge of the other caution tape marking off the two bodies. 
You stood beside him, your heart sinking as you took in the bodies of the two females lying dead in front of you. They were just freshmen. Barely made it into college and fully started their lives. 
From what you could see, they were stabbed multiple times in the chest and abdomen. One of their necks was slit, and the other looked like they were stabbed through their throat. They suffered, for sure. 
“Who found them?” you asked him, taking your eyes off the dead bodies and turning to your partner. He had one arm crossed over his chest and gripped his elbow as his other arm was reached up and fingers gripping his chin. 
He slowly tilted his head to look at you, streaks of his black hair fell into his eyes, “Funny enough,” he sighs, “Sunghoon and myself.” 
You completely turned your whole body to him, “That’s why you’re here before me?! Jake, what happened?!” 
Jake chucked, “You're more worried that I was here before you?” you narrowed your eyes at him, and he sighed again, completely wrapping his arms over his chest, looking back at the bodies. You could have sworn you saw a sparkle glint in his eyes. Jake has always been excited to be on the scene, same as you. But he enjoyed it a little bit more than you. He’ll make one damn good detective one day for sure, “Wanted to check out a book and saw the door already unlocked for the campus not even fully being opened yet. And that's when we found the bodies.” 
“Where is Sunghoon now?” you asked, looking around the library, spotting him with the librarian and being questioned by a detective. 
You went to walk over, to ask him questions, but Jake stopped you, putting a hand on your shoulder and pulling you towards him, his arm wrapping around over your chest, “Don’t question him, he’s really shaken up,” You wanted to protest, only for Jake to squeeze you tightly against him, your back pressing further into his chest, “Please, YN, he’s my best friend. I’ll take care of it. I promise.” 
You sigh and nod. Letting Jake take the lead with this one. 
But you still had a job to do. So you pulled out your camera, taking a few photos. Once you finished with the photos, you pulled your journal from your back pocket, asked Jake a few questions, and took his account down then turned back to the bodies and took your own notes. 
You circled the area, taking in every inch and piece of information you could. Jotting down everything in your little notebook. 
Jake kept his eyes on you, watching you do your thing. His eyes sparkled more the longer his eyes lingered on you. He eventually dropped his gaze and went back to looking at his best friend, watching as he sat at one of the tables, knees pressed to his chest and hands curled into his hair. The small smile Jake had fell at the sight of his best friend and—
“Jake!” You called for him, bringing his attention back to you, “I think I found something.” 
“Oh?” He walks over to you and kneels down on the floor beside you, your camera resting on your knees as you point your finger toward one of the dead girls, “What am I looking at honey?” 
You groaned and rolled your eyes, “Under her body, there’s a black glove,” you looked at Jake. His jaw clenched tightly, “The killer must have accidentally lost it, dropped it, or whatever. Maybe she fought them or something. I don’t know. But I want to figure it out.” 
You took a few close-up photos of the glove and turned back around to show Jake, noticing a scratch mark sliding down the left side of his neck. You hadn’t seen it before since you were standing on his right side, but it looked deep and irritated, “What happened there?” You reached up to touch it, but he grabbed your hand quickly and set it down at your side. 
“Hoon and I were wrestling earlier at our apartment and I hit the side of our entertainment center, I am fine.” 
You thinned your lips into a line, boys will be boys you guess. Their apartment was a lot smaller than the dorms on campus, they must have been fucking around at a good spot to have knocked Jake into their entertainment center. 
Eventually, the police shooed you and Jake off the scene. Forcing you two to head to the journaling office. You printed off the photos you took and made copies of your notes, passing them to Jake. 
You glanced at the clock, it was now ten thirty am and classes would be resuming like normal, so you and Jake went your separate ways. 
Jake was still new to being a journalist. You were a club of two, consisting of just you and another girl who helped write the articles for you while you took care of the rest. She wrote her own things, mostly on the sports or other small crimes that happen on campus, but with the ghost face killer making his rounds, you took up the role of this case with her helping on the side. At first, you took it all on yourself, but as the body count started piling up, you needed the help. So you let her help and put out an application for an extra set of hands, which Jake answered. 
You’ve seen him around campus before he joined you. Was born and raised in this town. Being the town's sweetheart and golden puppy boy. You did some research on him before allowing him into your club, can’t have the killer join you, right?
He was the captain of his soccer team in middle and high school. Has taken his school’s team to the championships multiple times and was the heartthrob of the school. He donated to charity when he could and volunteered at the police station on the weekends in hopes of landing a good detective job there after graduation. He was the whole definition of a straight-A good boy student. Perfect for your team. He became your partner and you taught him everything you knew. When Jake joined, the body count from this ghost face killer was only three. But with the two bodies that were found today, it was now at fifteen. 
In between your classes, you found yourself back at the club office, pinning the new photos to the corkboard in the back of the room, wrapping red string between the pushpins and possible suspects. After staring at the corkboard for what felt like hours, the other female club member came in and you helped her write the article. Give her your notes and advising as she writes. 
Jake popped in and out of the office as well, brainstorming with you about the suspects and the time of events that happened. You both spun in circles that led to nowhere. You ask Jake again about speaking to Sunghoon, and he shoots you down, “Give him some time. I’ll get the police report soon and it’ll help, I am sure.” 
A week has gone by since the murder in the library. You ended up shifting the corkboard from the office and into the corner of your kitchen, using the fluorescent light of the kitchen bulbs to light the board more. You leaned against the back of your couch, it being the furthest you could step away from the board. Biting at your nails as your eyes scanned every murder case. Every newspaper article and police report on the board. 
Nothing made sense. Nothing connected. Whoever this killer was, they were good. Covered their tracks without so much as a piece of hair at any scene of their crimes. Until the glove. 
You ran your hands into your long hair, scratching at the back of your head. You needed that police report that Jake still has yet to give you. Needed to speak to Sunghoon. There were missing pieces and those two things were important. You looked over to the clock above the kitchen sink. It was almost one thirty in the morning. But you still got up and slid into your sneakers, pulled your jacket on, and bounced out the door. 
Finding yourself in front of Jake and Sunghoon’s front door, knocking loudly. There was no answer. So you did the next best thing and called Jake’s cell phone. 
There was some shuffling on the other end of the door and a groan. The door opened and you find a half-awake Jake before you, his hair a mess and spreading in every direction, wearing a plain white tee shirt and a pair of black and blue checkered boxers, “YN,” he sleepily growled and then yawned, “It’s almost two am, what is it?” 
“Can I have the police report?” 
Jake blinked at you, “Huh?” 
You crossed your arms, “The police report. Can I have it?” 
Jake let out another yawn, “It’s at the school, in the office.” 
Of course, it was. And the campus is closed and if you get caught sneaking in just to get a piece of paper…You sigh, “Thanks anyway,” you softly say, and turn around to walk down the stairs but stop, “Can I talk to Sunghoon?”
Jake scoffs, leaning against the doorframe, “It’s almost two am,” he repeats, “Why are you out here so late? There’s a literal killer running around here.” 
You knew that. And still took that risk to come out here. The killer had to be a student at your college. Every murder had been college kids. It had to be another student. That’s what made being out here so dangerous. 
“I know,” you shrugged, “But I can’t stand by and do nothing.” 
Jake frowned, “You know you’re allowed to actually be a college student right? Live a normal life too?” you shrugged again, and he just scoffed again, “YN, go home and rest. Let the detectives with actual badges handle it. We can only do so much.” 
You narrow your eyes at him, “Let me speak to Sunghoon.” 
Jake stands his ground, “No. Go. Home. Before you get yourself killed.” 
You roll your eyes, “See you tomorrow then.” 
Jake mimicked your words and watched as you walked down the steps before walking back inside and going back to sleep. 
You didn’t understand why Jake was so against you speaking to Sunghoon. Maybe he was being protective? Sunghoon didn’t look the best after finding the bodies. He was probably so shaken up. But it only made you want to speak to him more. And that need only grew more when you noticed Sunghoon’s car wasn’t in its normal parking spot beside Jake’s. 
Meaning he wasn’t home. 
You’ve respected Jake’s wishes on not to talk to Sunghoon, but this matter was getting serious and Sunghoon just might be the big break you needed. So you quickly walked off the apartment complex, glancing back to make sure Jake was outside, and pulled your phone from your pocket as you kept walking and dialed a number. 
“Hello?” 
“Sunghoon, where are you right now?” 
You found him atop the bleachers of the soccer field just like he said he would be. A soccer ball sat between his feet, grass scuff marks were at the ends of his jeans, and sleeves of his hoodie rolled up to his elbows and sweat dripped down the side of his face. It didn’t take a genius to figure out he came here to kick the ball around. Probably as a distraction. 
You sat down beside him, “How are you holding up?” 
Sunghoon scoffs, “Holding up as in a week ago I found two dead bodies in the middle of the library or holding up because I’ve been questioned left and right by everyone or my best friend/roommate has smothered me to stay home and take time.” 
You felt bad for him, mostly for what you’re about to ask him. He wanted to obviously forget what he saw, who could blame him? It takes special people to see a dead body and not be fazed by it. 
“I’m sorry for asking you to do this again…” 
Sunghoon just shrugs, “If I am being honest, I’ve wanted to talk to you for a while now.” 
You raised your brow, “Yeah?” 
He nodded, “Jake was against it,” he took a deep breath, “Something was off that day…with him.” 
“What do you mean?” You placed a hand on his knee, “You can tell me anything. Start with the beginning.” 
Sunghoon looked you in your eyes, then looked off into the distance at the field, “He told me that morning he was meeting our coach, for a one-on-one coaching session. At first, I didn’t think anything about it, being he was a soccer prodigy or whatever.” You nodded, remembering how much of the soccer star Jake was back in high school, “So you could probably understand my surprise when I got a call from our coach saying he tried to get ahold of Jake and then he confirmed with me that they did in fact not have a meeting that day.” 
You sat back against the bleacher seat behind you, staring off onto the field, letting the gears in your brain slowly turn, waiting for Sunghoon to continue. 
“I got scared, rushing out of the apartment and searching everywhere for him. Scared and thinking I was going to find my best friend murdered somewhere, ya know?” You understood, with this killer on the loose everyone was watching their backs and afraid. Who would be next? Who is next? “But I found him, lingering around the library building, digging through his soccer duffle bag. My heart almost stopped when I saw him…alive,” he took a deep breath, “So I confronted him, and he played it off that he did have a practice, but was with his coach from high school.” 
You looked back at him, to read his face. Seeing how pale his skin was becoming, “I believed him at first, thinking maybe I misheard that morning. So we started walking back, but he kept digging through the duffle bag, looking frantic. He wasn’t acting himself. Said something about needing to go to the library, about finding a book or something, and then took off. But I followed after him. I didn’t want to leave him alone, not with ghost face running around. But when I got to the library, I…couldn’t find him. I saw him go through the back door instead of the front. But once I walked in and noticed all the doors were already unlocked…then I found the bodies.” 
You squeezed his knee, “It’s okay.” 
He nodded, swallowing and looking down at the soccer ball, “I smelt the blood first and then noticed their bodies. And then…then there were footsteps behind me and I knew that I was next. But the library walked in through the front entrance and started screaming, her eyes darting to me, saying we did it. I turned around to see Jake standing behind me. His skin was pale and sweaty. Eyes wide as he stared back at me and then at the bodies and the librarian. He’s never been surprised to see the bodies. He’s been working with you for over half a year. So when I saw the look on his face…the surprise that was there.” 
You opened your mouth to speak, but Sunghoon kept going, “The weirdest thing is his duffle bag was missing from his shoulder,” Sunghoon scoffs, “How did it just disappear.” It was a good question. A very good one. “He hasn’t been the same since then.” 
You tried to lighten the mood, “Maybe you knocked something loose in his head when the two of you wrestled the other day.” Sunghoon gave you a confused look, “You know? He said you two got too close to your TV stand and he got scuffed up by the edge of it. Making a scratch on his neck,” you pointed to the right side, tracing a finger down the side of your neck to mimic where Jake has his slowly fading scar now, “It’s right here.” 
Sunghoon raised a brow, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. We haven’t wrestled inside the apartment.” Your smile faded. Sunghoon’s phone started vibrating and he pulled it from his pocket, seeing Jake’s caller ID on the screen, “Guess he noticed I wasn’t home.” Sunghoon locked his phone, ignoring the call, “I haven’t been telling him when I’ve left the apartment. So I better prepare myself with a talk when I get back.” He stood up and started walking down the bleachers, “Thank you for listening to me, I don’t want to suspect my best friend, and it probably isn’t even him. He’s just weird, I guess.” 
You watched as he disappeared before standing up and finally finding yourself back at your dorm and in bed. Replaying Sunghoon’s story over and over, trying to piece it all together. It still didn’t make sense. None of it did. Nevertheless, it didn’t stop you from texting Jake, asking him to meet you at your dorm as soon as he could tomorrow, and him responding he had soccer practice but would be here right after. 
“You should really keep your front door locked, YN, there’s a killer out there.” Jake teased you as he made himself at home, dropping his duffle bag into a chair at your kitchen table, his eyes going to the corkboard, “Make any progress yet?” 
You stared down at the duffle bag quickly before looking up at him, then back to the board, “No I haven’t. I left my door unlocked on purpose. Knew you’d be coming here.” 
Jake smiled at you and stood beside you at the back of your couch, looking at the board, “We’ll catch him, don’t worry honey.” 
You glanced at him slightly, your heart winced at the nickname he’d given you. You looked to his neck, seeing the scratch still healing but faded, being nothing more than a pink line. 
Jake looked down at you, giving a smile, “Can I freshen up in your bathroom? I bet I don’t smell the greatest from practice.” 
You scrunch your nose, “Yes, please. You smell.” 
Jake just rolls his eyes playfully and slides his hand up and down your back quickly before leaving your side, “I’m stealing your deodorant.” 
You waited until you saw him turn the corner and heard the bathroom door close and lock before slowly walking to his duffle bag. 
You didn’t want to suspect Jake anymore than Sunghoon did. But his story last night didn’t add up. No part of it did. Jake’s actions didn’t add up. Jake’s story he gave you didn’t match Sunghoon’s or the librarian's. None of the pieces were adding up no matter how much you tried to force the pieces together. 
You looked down the hallway, then back at the bag, and slowly unzipped it, your hand flying to your mouth quickly to stop any noise from coming out. You took a couple of deep breaths and continued looking into the bag. 
The police report you asked for along with the glove from the scene of the crime was in the bag in a ziplock bag. Along with the other matching glove and the ghost face mask and the black suit. You pulled the mask out of the bag with shaky hands. Why did Jake have these items? You knew. You knew why and still tried to find another explanation. But after seeing the contents of his bag…the pieces of the puzzle fit. Everything clicked and made sense. 
“Don’t you know it’s rude to go through people’s things, honey?” before you could move, a knife was pressed to your neck and his other arm was wrapped around your waist, “I expected better from you than to snoop around.” 
Jake’s hot breath was hitting your ear, sending chills down your spine. Any doubts you had were now out the window. Jake is ghost face. Jake is the killer. 
“Keeping secrets is very rude too,” you retorted back, dropping the mask back into his bag, “But I figured you already knew that I found out, hint why you leave your bag so easily for me to look through.” 
Jake chuckles, squeezing his arm around you and pressing the knife further against your skin, “Can’t get anything past you, can I?” 
“Why?” you asked, tilting your head at the movement of him brushing the side of his face to yours. 
“Why did I do it?” he nuzzled his nose on the shell of your ear, “You’ll need to be specific, honey.” 
You swallowed, “Everything.” 
Jake chuckles again, “Because it’s fun.” It was such a simple yet spine-chilling answer, “You think I played this fucking good boy persona because I actually wanted to? No, no. I had to play that persona. To hide my secret. This is all a game to me, YN.” 
“It’s why you joined our club,” you swallowed again, “To make it harder for us to figure you out.” 
Jake shrugs, gently biting at the shell of your ear then rubbing his nose against it again, “I thought it would add to the fun, honestly. Yeah having an inside made it so much easier. It covered my tracks well. Until you started picking up on every. Fucking. Thing.” he hissed, tightening his grip, “You made it harder to cover up my tracks. Picking apart every smallest thing with each murder. I was lucky you didn’t suspect me, that was until you started poking your nose more into my business, you don’t think I didn’t know you tore the office apart looking for the police report before coming to my apartment? That you talked to Sunghoon even after I told you not to?” 
“You have our phones and the office bugged,” this should surprise you, but it doesn’t. It made sense. 
He pressed his lips to your ear, “Smart girl. Think I wouldn’t bug your phone? Or my best friends?” 
“Jake, you were going to kill him, weren’t you.” 
Another low chuckle, “Yes,” your body stilled, feeling cold, “It would have been a pity, really, to kill off my best friend all because he also stuck his nose where he shouldn’t have.” 
You looked down at his bag, seeing the bag gloved, “You went back to the library for the glove, you fucked up.” 
He growled in your ear, “Shut up! That bitch fought me instead of taking it. I didn’t even realize my glove was gone until after I murdered them both and fled the scene. That’s when Sunghoon showed up. I knew I had to go back and find where the fuck my glove went before someone else did. I didn’t know he was following me until I went to go back and check the bodies after tearing apart the other side of the library and saw him standing there. I quietly set my bag in one of the reading rooms and locked the door, slipping my knife into the back of my jeans. Preparing myself to kill my best friend.”
“All to keep your fucking secret,” you snapped at him, his hands on your body getting tighter.
“Watch it, honey,” he hissed, “You do have a knife to your throat right now.” 
“She fought you right? Probably knocked off your mask too. She saw your face, and you acted quickly and sliced her throat. Not before she left her own scratch on your neck.” 
Jake nodded, a wide smile on his face, “Nothing gets past you. You’d make a great detective someday, honey.” 
You needed to turn him in. Needed to get out of here and turn him in before he could kill anyone else. Fifteen. He’s murdered fifteen people. Probably more before he took up the ghost face mantle.
Jake pressed his chest to your back, “You know,” he whispers, “I’ve dreamed about doing this with you, my knife to your throat,” he rocked his hips against your ass, “It’s so fucking hot.” 
It was now or never. You tilted your head to the side, taking the skin of his forearm between your teeth and biting hard. 
“Fuck!” he shouted, his hand flexing and dropping the knife to the floor and his grip on you loosening. 
You pushed him back with your back and sent him falling to his ass. You barely made it two steps away from him before both of his hands were on your ankles, tripping you to the floor and pulling you towards him. 
You kicked your legs but not getting out of his strong grip. Jake worked fast to flip you over onto your back, his hands now at your wrists and holding them up and above your hand, pinning them to the floor. He straddled you, locking his legs around yours to keep you from wiggling them. 
“Stop fighting me!” he growled, using all his weight to pin you to the floor. 
You stopped, chest rising and falling as you stared up at his beautiful killing face. 
He held your wrists down with one hand and reached for his knife with the other, chuckling as he once again held the knife to your throat, “You look so pretty like this baby, all underneath me like this.” 
Jake was so turned on by this. He’s only dreamed of having you pinned underneath him with his favorite weapon against your skin. Dreamed what you’d sound and look like. This passed his expectations. It went even further than that. His cock twitched in his pants seeing the look of anger all over your face. 
“You get horny every time you kill someone?” you spat out at him, the fire in your eyes burning. 
Jake cocked his head, “You’re not afraid of me?” 
“Why would I be afraid of a horn dog who likes killing people?” 
Jake laughs, adjusting his legs from yours, using his knees to spread your legs apart, sliding himself between them, “Baby, you’re the only one I’ve ever got horny over. The others were just killings to kill. But you? You do something to me.” 
From the moment Jake first saw you on campus he wanted to be buried balls deep in your cunt. Wanted to fuck you so hard as he softly made cuts on your arms to watch you bleed as your moans of pain and pleasure filled his ear holes. Wanted to cum so deep within you and make you his. 
He had more than just joined the club to hide his killings as his reason. He wanted to get closer to you, get to know you. Then kill you after he got his dick wet. But what he didn’t expect was you figuring him out so soon. His plans got pushed up. He wanted you afraid of him as he killed you. He didn’t expect you to look at him with fury, so unafraid. 
Jake leaned down, being inches away from your face, the knife pressing harder against your neck, “You get me so hard,” he rocked his hips between you, his hard cock rubbing against your clothed cunt. You tried to not whimper, to keep your firm face, but the effect he was having on you down south was obvious. He wasn’t stupid, you knew that. 
You’d be lying if you said you haven’t been crushing on Jake since he walked into the club for the first time. How couldn’t you? He was perfect. Still was as he sat atop you with a knife to your neck. 
You relaxed your body, “If you’re going to kill me, then do it.” 
Jake smiled, “Want me to?” He released your hands from his grip and slid the knife from your neck and down to your shirt, his free hand looping his fingers at the collar, using the knife to cut a line, tearing the fabric and exposing your laced bra and skin. Jake tucked his lip between his teeth. Fuck you looked so much better than what you did in his dreams. So much better than he imagined. He slid the tip of the knife down your chest, rounding it around your breast and down your sternum, “Where should I start?” He placed both hands at the sides of your head and bent down, lips brushing against yours, “Tell me, baby.” 
You lifted your head, connecting your lips to his. Taking in the taste of his cherry chapstick and the softness of his lips. He rocked his hips against yours, moaning into your mouth, “Start by taking the rest of my clothes off.” 
He laughs against your lips and then pulls away, setting the knife down at your side to pull his famous white tee shirt off his body, “Yeah?” you nodded, eyes darting to his bare chest and abs, “So fucking dirty,” he cooed, “Should have known you were into killers.” 
You sat up on your elbows, ready to reach for the button of his jeans, but found the knife back in his hand and the tip pointing at your chest, “Lay back down, baby, no need to be so impatient.” 
His free hand touched your shoulder and gently pressed you back to the floor. You kept your eyes on him as he unbuttoned his jeans, the knife still in hand as he wiggled out of his jeans and boxers, leaving him bare to you. 
You watched as he took his length between his fingers, slowly pumping himself, him biting his lips. You were growing too impatient. Needing to feel him against you, in you, “Jake,” 
“Shhh, honey,” he whispers, dropping his hands to your shorts, “I know.” 
The cool metal of the knife brushed your skin as he pulled your shorts and panties down your thighs. Goosebumps formed on your skin and making Jake chuckle, enjoying this more than he’d thought, “You love the way my knife feels against you?” He tossed your clothing somewhere off into the void of the room, settling himself back between your legs, his tip prodding your entrance, “love the way it feels to glide against your skin?” He sent the knife sliding up your tummy, his hips pushing his cock in your pussy, slowly stretching you. 
Jake bottomed out, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix. He hissed out in pure pleasure of finally being buried so deep inside you, the pleasure of how fucking good you felt wrapped around him, “fuck baby,” he smiles, sliding the knife to your waist, wanting to cut open your skin and see how pretty your blood would look pooling out, “feel so good and I’m not even moving.” 
You bucked your hips up against him, wanting to feel any kind of friction. Jake drops the knife to the floor, his hands pinning your arms above your head again, “I told you to stop being so impatient.” 
“Jae, please,” you begged, wrapping your legs around his waist, “I need you.” 
Hearing you beg for him had him gone and all he cared about now was fucking you. To make you feel so good until you’re cumming around his dick. 
Jake started out slow, burying his face in your neck, “Why aren’t you afraid, hmm? I could kill you right now.” 
You leaned into him, squeezing your legs tighter on him to push him even further into you, “Because I have secrets of my own.” 
Jake chuckled, bucking his hips harder and faster into yours, his lips pressing to yours. Tongue sliding down your throat and exploring your mouth. One hand leaving yours to cup your breast, his thumb and index finger pinching your nipple, “Tell me your secrets.” 
“You already seem to know them all, stalker,” you hissed, throwing your head back against the floor at him pinching your nipple harder in the same movement of him pushing his dick hard against your cervix, pressing so hard to break whatever barrier that was stopping him from completely filling you whole as his hip bones knocked against yours. 
“Tell me anyway,” he whispers between kisses, now sliding his mouth down to your ear, licking the shell of it, “I don’t know what you haven’t texted or physically talked about.” 
“I have feelings for you,” you felt insane saying it out loud. Felt crazy that you even admitted it to him. To the person who was fucking you into pure bliss. To a murderer, “I’m obsessed with you, Jake.” 
Jake bit down into your neck, both of his hands sliding underneath you to wrap at your shoulders, fucking his hips against you faster. His teeth sank into your skin tearing it slightly, a small sprinkle of blood escaping. 
“Fuckkkk,” he moans, tasting the brassy liquid on his tongue, “Even your blood tastes good.” 
He was fucking crazy. You knew he was. But everything about him drew you to him. Made you want him more. 
And him hearing how obsessed you were with him made him even crazier about you. 
“Such a good girl,” he cooed, “Letting me fuck you like this, looking so pretty for me this way.” He bucked his hips faster, adjusting his legs on the floor to spread yours even wider, giving him more access to hit your weak spots and to hit them just right. 
You pulled at his hair, “Jake!” you moaned out his name, the knot in your stomach threatening to snap, “I’m going…fuck…I’m going to cum.” 
“Please,” he groaned, “Cum for me baby,” he sticks his tongue out, flattening it against the bite he left on your shoulder, licking up the new blood that pooled out, “fucking cum around my cock for me, honey.” 
A few more thrusts and you came around him. Tingles spread throughout your body at the feeling of your release. Jake moans at feeling the mess you’ve made on his cock, him working his dick faster in your cunt to chase out the release he wants. The one he’s dreamed about having with you. His hand only did so much for him with his thoughts while back at his apartment. But now he was balls deep in your sweet pussy, having you right where he wanted you. 
“Gonna cum soon,” he panted, hands squeezing your shoulders, “fuck I want to cum in this cunt so bad.”
You pulled at his hair harder, the overstimulation hitting you hard, “Jae, I can’t��“
“I know, baby,” he pressed his forehead against yours, his brows furrowing and eyes shut tightly, “Going to fill this pussy to the brim, understand? This pussy is mine.” 
Jake pressed a kiss to your lips and lifted up, taking your legs and pressing them to your chest, pistoning into you faster but sloppy, “Shit,” he hissed, “Fixing to cum—fuck—I’m cumming, honey, I’m cum—“ one final thrust, and his white ropes spilled into you. He pressed his hips against you and held them there, making sure every last drop of his cum made it deep within, none to be wasted. 
“Fuck,” he cursed, slowly lifting himself back up and dropping your legs back to the floor, “Sex with you was so much better than in my head. I only dreamt how good this pussy would feel. How good it’d feel to cum in you.” 
Jake was definitely more obsessed with you than you were with him. And he honestly didn’t care how obvious it was. 
“Fuck I am in love with you.” he chuckles, his hands rubbing up and down your thighs. 
You tilted your head to the side, seeing the knife sitting there idle. Jake clocked where your eyes landed, but he wasn’t fast enough as you quickly grabbed it, being the one who now held the knife to his throat, the fire in your eyes back. 
Jake might have just came, but his dick twitched and hardened again between the walls of your fuck hole. His crazy smile is so wide and his eyes so lustful. Seeing you so ready to end him right here and now made him crazier. Made him crave you even more. 
He wouldn’t kill you now. No, no. How could he kill the love of his life? How could he slide that knife into your skin and cut you open? You were precious to him, more than what he thought before. Maybe the sex drew him in, but you weren’t getting away from him that easily. 
“Awe, babe,” he cooed, taking your wrist in his hand and slowly removing the knife from your hand, “This is how this will go now,” he tossed the knife across the room and out of reach, pinning your arms back to the floor, slowly rocking his hips, “You will keep your fucking mouth shut, got it? Close this ghost face case and if anyone asks you don’t know anything about it. Give it up. All for me, okay baby?” 
You nodded, not being able to say no to those brown eyes. It was toxic, whatever relationship you just found yourself in. You became that girl in books and movies who fell for the killer. It surprises you at how fast you were willing to drop everything for him. To keep his secret. 
He kisses you gently and fucked you on the floor until you both came again and again and again. 
What did you get yourself into?
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— perm taglist: @alvojake @ikeuverse @woniebae @shawnyle @kangnina @jwnghyuns @in-somnias-world @zyvlxqht @aaa-sia @wonniethepoo @addictedtohobi @eneiyri @sparklovespink @skzenhalove @fakeuwus @cherry-park @vousty @ladyartemesia @psh9 @cmoundiamante @enhaverse713586 @wondipity @lhsvibez
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tojikai · 11 months
Text
Sundered 2: EMBERS
Pairing: Gojo x reader
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 ...+
Genre: Angst
tags/cw: angst, mean!gojo(kinda), babydaddy!gojo, babymomma!reader, motherhood, insecurities, arguments, implied pregnancy, mentions of abortion
word count: 5.4k
a/n: it's not sad.
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Pining so intensely for something you never had to the point where you physically ache.
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Each step that you take away from Satoru’s house feels like a stomp to your already broken heart. Your eyebrows furrowed, feeling the waterlines of your eyes start to get hot and itch. You recalled the noises and laughs that you heard from them while you walked out of their door. 
They have no idea how much you want to get down on your knees and beg them not to take away the only thing you have left. 
Your feet feel heavy with each stride you make toward your car. You could taste blood inside your mouth as you bit your inner lip to channel the pain away from your heart and to your body instead. You found yourself looking for answers on why all of this has to happen to you. As if being replaced by the man you love so easily and having to see how he treats someone else a thousand times better than you were not enough, you also have to witness your own flesh and blood turn away from you. Am I really that far behind that woman?
Is she that much better that even my own child prefers her over me?
You placed your hands on the steering wheel, looking down at your lap as you let the tears fall. You kept glancing over at the gate, hoping that Satoru would come out, running with your baby in his arms. Yet, you don’t want him to see you crying miserably. You swallowed thickly, letting out a large breath in an attempt to get rid of the painfully heavy feeling in your chest.
Driving away was numbing, and all sorts of thoughts ran inside your mind. But above all of them, your eyes were focused on the toy store as it got bigger in your view. You wondered about what you could get your little love to at least make her smile when she comes home. You remembered how your gift to her, her favorite bear that she used to hug as she sleeps ever since she was an infant, was cast aside as she clings to her new ones. 
Is that a foreshadowing of how you’d end up being in her life? It scared you.
Reaching the parking lot of the store, you looked at yourself in the car mirror, noticing your bloodshot eyes. You inhaled and let a big breath out slowly, puffing your cheeks as you assured yourself that it’ll be fine when she comes home later. Your head hurts so much but you can’t afford to care, stepping out of your car and heading to the front door of the store. The first thing you saw was a pregnant, young lady checking baby books. 
She reminded you of yourself when you were still pregnant with Yui; curious about everything, eager to learn, and all was about the baby. You admit that it wasn’t like that at first, given that you were young and had to drop out of college at that time. You were anxious, torn between decisions, and terrified of what life would be like for you from that point in time. During that period, you and Satoru were ignorant but trying hard to figure everything out.
You met Satoru at a nightclub where you worked as a bartender. He was flashy, and women just flock to him as if it was the most natural thing to do around him but that night, his eyes were on you. What with persistent offers of buying you drinks and talking to your manager to let you off early for the night, you ended up in a luxurious hotel suite with him. 
He even wrote his number on the price tag of the fancy lingerie set that he bought you after he ruined the one you were wearing the previous night. He was joking that you’ll never get enough so he’s providing you his contact for next time. You thought that would be the end of it. You didn’t think that it was just fate giving you a helping hand in advance because you’d end up with a child together. 
You consider it a dumb mistake. You know that Plan Bs exist. But with a working student like you who couldn’t even have time to get a proper boyfriend, it slipped your mind. The first thing you did after you got the results was call Satoru. You thanked the heavens that he wasn’t seeing anyone, and that he remembers you. It was a tense meeting, what with you asking if he wants you to abort the fetus. Next thing you know, you two were already dealing with your mood swings. 
“Look, I really want to work this out with you, Y/N. For the baby.” Satoru sighed, slamming the door behind him as he watched you sit on your old couch. You lean your elbows on your knees as you covered your face with your hands, harshly running them down your cheeks to wipe away the big, fat tears that fell from your eyes. There are just so many things going on with your life. 
“I’m only 21, Satoru. I got my whole life ahead of me.” You looked up at his tall figure, frustration was evident in your eyes. You can tell that he was also distressed. His hair was messy, his jaw was clenched tightly, and even if you cannot see behind his tinted glasses, you can tell that he hasn’t been getting enough sleep. The dark half-circles under his eyes and the redness in them show just how exhausted and disquieted he has been in the past few days.
Satoru’s five years older than you. He was born to a rich family of politicians who don't and probably will never need support from him or the other younger generations in their household. He has a stable source of income, he could probably make life investments that could cover your yearly living expenses. He has nothing to worry about, he won’t be dropping anything if he decides to take in another mouth to feed. But you…
You’re basically your mother’s retirement plan and now you got pregnant with a kid of a man you barely know. “Y/N, listen to me.” He got down on his knees in front of you, trying to take your hands off of your face as you sob, struggling to catch your breath. What’s going to happen to you now? You didn’t even get to finish the degree that your mother was working her ass off day and night for.
“You won’t have to worry about anything, you know? I’ll handle everything you need—” He trailed, trying to calm you down as he gently grabbed your forearms. “You don’t understand!” You cut him off, snatching your hands away, aggravated that he’s not thinking about how it could affect everything in your life. “Then, what the fuck do you want to do?!” You flinched as he raised his voice at you, breathing hard as he backed away.
“You think you’re the only one who’s going to be affected by this? You think you’re the only one who’s being robbed of another future! Open your fucking eyes, stop being selfish!” Satoru snapped back, harshly taking his glasses off before throwing it across the room. You started to cry, whimpering as you used the collar of your shirt to wipe your tears away.
“I’m scared, Satoru. I’m just so scared. I can’t even take care of myself, how am I supposed to raise a child…” You broke down, turning your body away from him. There was a long pause, a moment of pure silence, save from your sniffs and Satoru’s ragged breathing. 
You felt the couch dip as he sat down before pulling you to him, letting you cry on his chest.  “I know, I know. I’m sorry.” You would be lying if you said that the back rub, the temple kisses, and his whispers of reassurance didn’t calm you down. Those thoughts were recurring in your head and now that you finally let it all out and got answers from him, you were soothed.
You blinked hard, shaking your head to get out of your trance. You went straight to the dolls section. You can’t believe you just had a flashback of Satoru comforting you in the warmth of his chest. Your mouth started to twitch, wishing that he held you like that earlier when his girlfriend was slapping into your face that they’re gonna give your child siblings. It shouldn’t hurt you, but it still did. You realized that this girl, this woman is gonna have everything you wish you had with Satoru.
You walked past the kiddie pools and trampoline section, stopping when you saw a playpen, almost similar to the one Satoru bought for your little girl but smaller. The size doesn’t really matter though, because you know that you don’t have enough space in your place for something so big, anyway. 
Going closer to check the prices, you bit your lip as your eyebrows bumped together. You were calculating your monthly expenses along with the money for your savings in case of emergency. It’s expensive but you’re determined to cut back just to buy it. You kept your eyes on the tag as you took half a step away from it but your back was met by something, or rather someone behind you.
“It’s not cheap, is it?” A man’s deep voice boomed as you turned around, but your eyes were met by a broad chest. He’s big, you thought. He’s literally blocking your view. It didn’t help that you were short enough to have to look up to see his face. He was also staring at the playpen as he held the pushcart beside him.
“Y-yeah…” You answered, a bit awkward as you found yourself admiring the guy. You admired fathers who are active when it comes to their children. You grew up without a father so, you just found it endearing. You looked away from the man, gritting your teeth as an image of Satoru and his girlfriend shopping for baby things appeared before your eyes for a split second.
“Excuse me, sir. I still have to buy my daughter a gift.” You bowed slightly before turning away. He just nodded his head, too occupied to even look at you. You proceeded to check out the little dolls, hoping that you’d find something that’ll really catch your daughter’s eye. Picking up a dark-haired baby doll with big blue eyes sitting on a stroller, you smiled as you remembered how it has the same eyes as your baby.
You went to pay for the doll, and your heart was filled with joy despite the throbbing pain in your skull and the hot feeling behind your eyes. You reminded yourself not to forget to take your medicine. Thinking about getting sick and having to leave your child for a couple of days with them again makes you anxious, afraid that she’ll never want to go home to you again. 
You hurriedly went home, driving in the midst of the rain. You put the little doll on the chair, ready to surprise your baby girl when she comes back. You had to bear with the time, constantly checking your phone if your little girl and her dad are on the way to you. Your heart swelled at the thought. 
Though, you know that you’ll never be the one he comes home to, it’s still nice to think about. 
—--------------------------------
“She really called me Mama.” Naomi giggled as she kissed his daughter’s cheek. Satoru smiled, watching them play together warms his heart. It made him feel like he was staring at his family even if he knows that his daughter isn’t hers. He pursed his lips, remembering the look in your eyes at what you heard the child say.
He felt conflicted, not knowing how to react to all of it. He doesn’t want to embarrass his girlfriend by correcting her in front of you. But he also felt bad that he just watched you walk out that door on the verge of tears. Satoru had you memorized after all this time, it wasn’t a long time but he used to watch everything you do.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea, though.” Satoru sighed, shaking his head as he pushed a bit of Naomi’s hair away from her face. Her expression dropped as she adjusted the toddler in her arms. Satoru pulled her close to his side, hugging her waist as he thought about how to explain it to her without making her feel disheartened.
“I’m worried about how Y/N will feel about it, to be honest. I don’t know but it may worry her.” He kissed the side of her forehead before stepping away as he watches his daughter’s eyes look at them. He knows that she’s still too young but he feared that she’ll get confused by all of this. 
Like why is her father not with her mother, and why is he holding someone else?
He wondered if she’ll grow to hate him for giving up on their family. “Oh, Is that so…I thought we were fine already.” Naomi’s voice was quiet as she bit her lip, making Satoru rethink. “It’s not that, I just think that maybe that’s how she might feel.” Satoru took one of her hands, kissing it before rubbing his thumb on her soft skin. “No, I understand, I got too comfortable. I’m just a girlfriend, I shouldn’t have done that.” 
Satoru doesn’t want to make her feel like this, she’s just really attached to his baby. He knows that Naomi adores kids, they often joke around about it, so he could see why she’s excited about his daughter calling her Mama. Thinking about it now, maybe this shouldn’t be so bad. After all, she’s not gonna be just a girlfriend to him forever, right? Naomi is a great person, and Satoru thinks that it’s not impossible to have a future with her.
“Don’t say that. That’s just my assumption. She’ll tell if it’s not alright, I know. We’re co-parenting so we have to talk about those stuff.” Three squeezes to her hands made Naomi smile sweetly at him, her eyes as kind as the stars. “Yeah, discussions are important. I don’t want her to feel like I’m trying to keep her away from us.” The calmness in her voice comforted Satoru.
—-------------------------------------
After receiving a text from Satoru, you found yourself staring at the mirror, retouching your makeup like it’s gonna make him fall for you. Hopeless. Not long after, the doorbell rang and you dashed to the door. There, Satoru stood with Yui asleep on his shoulders. You took her bags, along with the teddy bear that she was hugging to her chest. Seeing her holding it again made you feel relieved.
“Are you feeling better now?” Satoru inquired, walking past you to put your kid in her little bed. You hummed in response, “She’s full, don’t give her any more milk. Naomi fed her before she fell asleep.” Her again. You thought as the small smile on your face dissipated. You’re just thankful that he didn’t take her with them here.
There was a moment of silence as the two of you watched your daughter sleep peacefully. A sigh escaped Satoru’s lips before he turned to you. He was about to say something, but closed his mouth, thinking. You took a deep breath, pursing your lips as you collected your thoughts. You started to rub your hands together, trying to get rid of the cold feeling on your fingertips.
Your communication issues with Satoru only worsened when he got a girlfriend. Seeing how he is with her made you doubt the importance of your words to him. It’s like if you get stuck in a room together with her and something happens, you’re almost certain that he’d accuse you first. You wouldn’t admit it but you yearn for him. You yearn for the way he acts towards her. You yearn for the things he does for her. 
You yearn for the things he so easily, willingly offer to her; things you had to beg for when you were still together.
“Satoru, I just want to ask…Since when did Yui start to call Naomi Mama?” You looked at the ground, somewhat embarrassed of your question but can’t pinpoint why. It just made you feel…weak and insecure. And you are that. But you can’t let Satoru see it. You don’t want him to feel even more sorry for you. You can see it in his and his girlfriend’s eyes whenever they look at you. They probably pity you and the state you are in. 
Alone. With no one to hold your pieces together but you.
“I don’t really remember. Look, I was going to mention that…” Satoru trailed, looking everywhere but you. He probably noticed your discomfort earlier. “I know it doesn’t seem right to you because she’s just my girlfriend but…” Here’s the “but” again. How come he can always find the good when it comes to her, even when she literally did you so wrong by letting your daughter call her Mama and even acting like one in front of you?
Ever since Satoru got a girlfriend, arguing with him started to feel like fighting in a war without any type of armor in your body. How are supposed to stand strong, when the fact that he’ll always be on her side was your weakness? There were times when you wanted to fight for yourself but you couldn’t bear to because you know that he was shielding her from everything, heedlessly deserting you.
“I didn’t really appreciate it. I mean… I-I just think she’s not in the place to—” You thought the words you chose to describe the situation were too risky when you were cut off by Satoru, taking his glasses off. You can’t read him but he’s looking at you with that apologetic gaze again. His face was filled with contrite and you can’t quite understand why. But like a mouse sensing danger, you wanted to run away.
“I…I’m thinking about proposing to Naomi.” It shouldn’t hurt. You told yourself again. You don’t have the right to feel hurt. This man disrespected you, hurt you, and made you feel so incredibly small yet here you are, wishing you were the one he wants to spend the rest of his life with. “I know she’s just my girlfriend now, but it’s bound to change.” You suddenly just wanted him to leave. “She…she’d like to ask for permission to let our daughter call her Mom. You know she treats Yui like she’s her—” 
“I don’t want to.” You whispered firmly through gritted teeth, cutting Satoru off. You don’t wanna hear it anymore. You can’t go through that again and you can’t let that happen again. “Yui is my daughter, and I don’t want her calling anyone else Mama.” You looked up at him with glassy eyes before turning away to walk out of the room, not wanting to startle the toddler from her slumber. Satoru was instantly on your tail, calling your name.
“She’s my daughter, too. Y/n, what is wrong? I know that you have your limitations and that’s why I’m here to talk about it with you, but why are you acting like this?” He walked closer to you, trying to catch your eyes. “I know it’s not just about this, I know you’ve been having problems with her but give a reason, at least. She’s been nothing but good to our kid. ” It’s getting hard for you to breathe as you tried to process your emotions and his questions.
You proceeded to the kitchen, hurrying to grab yourself a bottle of water before you collapse, but failing terribly when Satoru spoke the next sentence “Y/N, we all have to adjust, don’t be unfair to her, she doesn’t deserve it.” 
“And I do?!” You shouted at him, taking him by surprise and making him take a step back. 
“You think she doesn’t deserve any of that shit but I DO?!” You lamented, shaking your head in pain and disbelief. There were tears streaming down your face and no pattern of breathing can help you control it. You were able to keep it in when he shoved his new girlfriend in your face several months ago, but now it’s taking its toll.
You were about to get the clothes that he bought for your daughter on your way home from work but were met with a woman snuggled up to him on his couch. You hated him for allowing you to see them like that when he knows that you haven’t even processed your split yet because a month before that, he was saying that he could fix his shortcomings for you and his daughter. 
You remember how sick you felt in your stomach when he introduced her, saying that you weren’t supposed to see them like that. It’s revolting; how he thought that you were upset because of what you saw and not because he just went back on his words. Naomi kept her head down, standing in front of you as she muttered an apology before scurrying to Satoru’s room. 
Naomi was his father’s new assistant and unlike you, she got to finish her studies. Despite being classmates in high school, she was three years older than you due to the frequent relocation of her family. Regardless of her tough childhood, she was known to be a smart kid. No wonder his mother approved of her in such a short amount of time. 
You and Satoru were never perfect but it doesn’t mean that you were never happy with each other before. The issues overpowered your interest in each other, making it hard for the two of you to bounce back. You admit that you’ve been negligent of Satoru at a certain point of your relationship but it was only because you got tired of his ways.
He would come home late, making you stay up all night because he failed to reply when you texted him, asking him his whereabouts. He’d be out drinking with friends, and it wasn’t a problem but you just wanted him to at least let you know so wouldn’t be worrying to the point that you can’t even sleep.
His mother was overbearing. You got pregnant by someone’s son in a one-night stand and that’s all she paints you with. You were belittled and told that you can’t even take care of the child properly. Hell, was she so eager for Satoru to leave you and find someone better who achieved something in life.
Consequently, this negligence led to fits of jealousy from Satoru. This drove you to quit the job you used to have after a coworker of yours who only wanted to help became the subject of his suspicions. His mother saw you getting dropped off by your friend while she was babysitting your daughter. 
It was only because your car broke down and you don’t want to bother Satoru at work. You couldn’t really blame him for thinking that way because you know that he’s been feeling invisible to you which wasn’t true. You just don’t know how to deal with it anymore and you started to pull yourself away.
It got to the point where you couldn’t even communicate how you truly feel about him because it was overshadowed by your problems. You were arrogant enough to tell him that someone could treat you right and do much better and now, look at you; standing before him and his girl. Longing for him and eating the words you spitefully told him.
Pining so intensely for something you never had to the point where you physically ache.
The memory was tormenting, heart-rending, and traumatic to you. And now you get to watch them write their happy ending while you are here, left in the dust, drowning in the feelings that will never ever get recognized and will never ever be relevant. 
It hasn’t even been a year, and he’s already planning to marry her. He’s been nothing but better to her, yet, he couldn’t even change his ways for you and your child? Couldn’t he learn to truly love you after everything you endured just to be with him? You know that you have flaws, and chose some wrong steps and paths in your relationship. 
But you can’t bear to lose him like this. You know that you could have fought more for your relationship. He’d always say that you’d work things out. So, why did he stop? How could he stop choosing you so easily?
“How could you give her the world, yet refuse me the tiny bit of what I have left?” 
Your voice was small as you backed away, defeated. Satoru couldn’t move. From everything that has happened that morning, he could tell that you’ve been on edge. To Satoru, the only thing that connects you to him is his daughter. He refuses to believe that after all of that, you can still make it work.
At least, that’s the realization he came about when he met Naomi. She taught him that love isn’t supposed to be strenuous, it isn’t always about fighting. Within his tumultuous relationship with you, she came around and showed him that he’s seen. That his feelings are valid. He came to the conclusion that maybe he just wanted to love you because you have a child together. 
“Tiny bit?” He asked, frustrated that you just won’t let this go easily, irked that you always think you’re the only one having a hard time. If Satoru’s being honest, he’s just tired of it all. He just wants you to understand his point and get it over with. But now you’re crying in front of him and again, he doesn’t know what to do. He can’t even think of the right things to say or the right decisions to make. It’s like it’s all back to square one with you.
“You call it ‘tiny bit’ when I couldn’t even live my life because of you?! I’ve given everything, Y/N! I just want to be at peace with everything and I’m obviously not having it with you!” You couldn’t even breathe through the piercing ache in your chest from the daggers that are coming out of his mouth. Your hand reached over to your chest, grasping your shirt as his every word irreversibly pulverized your already wounded heart.
“I wish I never met you that night and I wish I never had Yui with you. You’re a thorn in my side, Y/N!” By the time he finished screaming at you, you were shaking like a leaf, grabbing a chair beside your table as your wide eyes stared at him in shock. Grief, mortification, and agony were plastered on your face, and only then did Satoru’s words sink into him.
“Y/N, I—” Before he could even form a proper phrase, a loud cry erupted from the other room. Yui. He watched as you quickly wiped away your tears, seeing the emotions mix inside your eyes until they turned into a weeping void with all the tears pooling inside them.
“I…I loved you, Satoru. And I hate that even now that you’re kicking me while I’m down for the sake of someone else, I still love you.” The crack in your voice had Satoru subconsciously moving closer to you, opening his arms to pull you into him but you were quick to flinch away, sniveling.
“Please, just—just go. Do whatever you want, just d-don’t take Yui away. I’m fine with it now, Satoru.” It’s almost as though something in you died when he spoke those words to you. You don’t know if he heard because you couldn’t even hear yourself. You could feel the beat of your heart in your chest and each one of them sends a burning ache to your body. “Just go, please.” You whimpered as you bit your upper lip, looking down on the floor. 
Satoru can’t take his eyes off of your fragile figure as you leaned on the kitchen counter, slowly walking back to your daughter’s room. He remained unmoving until you exited the kitchen area. It was only after a few minutes that he decided to go, not bothering to wipe away the tears that rolled down his face as he listened to your muffled cries behind the closed door.
Each sob was filled with anguish that Satoru knows he’ll never be able to erase.
—------------------------------------------------------
A few weeks later have passed yet Satoru still doesn’t know what to make of himself. He couldn’t focus on anything that he works on. He couldn’t even workout properly, he always ends up getting angry. It was a good thing that both he and Naomi were swarmed with tasks; they didn’t have time to interact any more than what their jobs would allow. If they did, Satoru isn’t sure if he’ll be able to focus on her. She still has time to visit every week, though. During those days, she spends her time with Satoru and sometimes, Yui.
He makes sure to free his time and himself completely when he’s with his daughter so he can give his full attention to her. Satoru picks her up from your house, same schedule as before. Sometimes it’s you, but other times, it was your mother. “All I asked of you was to never break her, Gojo.” were the first words she spoke to him. Satoru can’t look her in the eyes. Your mother was a kind woman, humble and unjudging. And to have her talking to him like that, Satoru was beyond ashamed.
He couldn’t give her a reason, or an answer. All he did was apologize. Like he should. Naomi was unaware of it all and the proposal that Satoru was planning for her was set aside due to all that had happened. He just doesn’t think it’s the right time to plan about it when his relationship with you is strained. Yes, you’re not together anymore but you’re still the mother of his child and he wants to be civil with you, at least.
Yui kept asking for you even when she was with him as if sensing that her Mama was hurting. She’s always carrying the new doll that you bought for her. Satoru once asked her if you cry and she would simply shake her head. He gets nothing out of it, of course, she’s just a kid. But who else could he ask?
Satoru has no idea what you have been doing. He knows that you go to work, but other than that, he’s clueless about the places you go to and why your mother started babysitting his daughter more during the past few days. Satoru thought that maybe you just can’t stand seeing him anymore and is refusing to face him whenever he picks his daughter up. You have every right and reason to despise him, after all.
So, now he stands on the other side of your door, wondering if he’ll get to see your face this time or be welcomed with the frowning face of your mother. He knocked three times, like he always does, adjusting the collar of his shirt. To his surprise, it wasn’t any of the two women he was expecting holding the door open for him. 
“Who are you?” A shirtless man with a muscular build stood before Satoru, a curious yet accusatory gaze scanned him like he was an intruder in his own woman’s home. He leaned on his tattooed arm against the doorframe, blocking the tiny view he has of the inside. It pissed him off, clenching his jaw for a few seconds before speaking.
“Who are you?” Satoru bit back, raising his brows in an attempt to intimidate the guy. He’s only a couple of centimeters taller than the stranger but he’s bigger. It wasn’t a big deal to him until the man opened the door wider. A short, deep chuckle escaped his lips before a smug smirk appeared on his face. 
Tilting his head, the man gave Satoru a clear look at the scratches adorning his nape and the purple and maroon marks on his jaw. It made Satoru’s blood boil, unreasonably so.
“Think you know who I am now?” 
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5K notes · View notes
mirkoluvs · 9 months
Text
★ SUPER SHY
sanji (opla) x fem reader
genre: angst to comfort !!
notes: request !! this is a bit of a long one… also, yes. the title is inspired by new jeans hehe. also, request have been closed for a bit because my inbox is flooded… i appreciate the support and will open requests again soon once i finish most of them!
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you were sitting as you listened to nami complain about how the crew was running low on money because of luffy’s food needs. you thought about bringing up her clothing addiction, but since you wanted the ship to stay intact, you kept your mouth shut.
“and i always tell him that we have enough to last us in the kitchen, but he never listens! i swear next time he spends money on food without telling me i’ll-“, “nami!”, sanji called out, walking out the kitchen with a tray of drinks. he quickly made his way over to the table that the two of you were at.
“nami, take this. it’ll help you calm down. i know luffy can be stressful”, sanji smiled, handing nami the drink. “why thank you, sanji”, she smiled back, taking the drink from his hand. “hey! what did i do?!”, luffy shouted from the front of the boat where he was watching usopp fish. sanji simply didn’t answer, continuing to smile at nami as he pushed off luffy’s whining.
finally, he turned to you. “for you”, sanji quickly said, handing you your drink and walking off. your eyes narrowed at the short lived interaction. it seemed like he didn’t care about you as much as he did nami. maybe you were overthinking it. but what if you weren’t? had you done something wrong? did you offend him or something?
“y/n?”, nami called out, tapping your shoulder. you jumped at the sudden touch, snapping out of it. “are you okay?”, she asked, a small bit of concern on her face. “yeah, i’m fine. i’m gonna go to the bathroom”, you smiled, quickly dismissing yourself. before she could further question you, you were already gone.
you quickly shut the bathroom door behind you, letting out a sigh. looking up, you stared at your reflection in the mirror. walking closer, you began picking at parts of your face.
is there something wrong with me? sure, i’m not as pretty as nami or other girls, but am i that bad that someone like sanji would barely acknowledge me…? he flirts with every woman he can, yet he always ignores me… that says a lot, huh?
before you could even realize it, there were tears streaming down your face. insecurities were swallowing you whole, it was unbearable. you leaned against the door, sliding down it as you tucked your knees against your chest and laid your head on your knees.
“hey, who’s in there? i gotta use the bathroom”, zoro asked, banging on the door. you jumped at his sudden presence. “sorry, i’ll be out soon”, you replied back, your voice unexpectedly quivering. you didn’t hear a response for a moment, the silence making you a bit nervous. “i’ll just wait, it’s fine”, he replied. before you could respond, he walked away. you sighed as you rested your head against the door.
the day passed by quickly as everyone was seated eating the dinner sanji had prepared. “where’s y/n? nobody ever skips dinner”, sanji asked, holding an extra plate. everyone looked around, shrugging. “i haven’t seen her since this afternoon, she might’ve fell asleep early”, nami answered. sanji rose an eyebrow but didn’t choose to question it.
after everyone, or so he thought, had left the kitchen, he started cleaning up what was left. “what the hell are you still doing in here?”, sanji groaned, being faced with the sight of the green-haired swordsman when he turned around. “quit whining, i can go wherever i want”, zoro fought back.
“did you say something to y/n earlier?”, he asked, picking up a random fruit on the counter. sanji rose an eyebrow as he continued scrubbing the dishes, “no? why are you asking me that”, he asked. “well, i saw her leave right after you gave nami and her those drinks. then i went to the bathroom and she was in there. sounded like she was crying or something”, he told him. sanjis eyes widened at what he said, pausing everything he was doing. “she was crying…?”, sanji muttered, turning to look at zoro who was playing catch with a random apple. “yeah, i guess. but if you say you didn’t do anything then maybe it was something else”, he shrugged, placing the apple down and walking out. sanji stayed in the same position he was in for a moment, thinking about what zoro said. he didn’t remember ever offending you, so what could’ve happened? he sighed, finishing up the last bit of the dishes left before closing up the kitchen.
soon enough, everything was packed away and sanji was able to go to sleep. he let out a yawn as he closed the kitchen door, rubbing his eyes. “finally, i’m exhausted- SHIT”, he exclaimed in shock, running into someone. “who the hell- y/n?”, he questioned in surprise. your eyes were wide as you realized who you had run into. you muttered small curses under your breath as you began to back away. “sorry, i’ll get going”, you started, beginning to turn around as you started to walk away. “no, wait”, sanji interfered, grabbing your wrist. your eyes widened at the motion. “were you gonna try to get leftovers?”, he asked. you let out a light laugh, trying to skim over the topic. “what? no! i just- well…”, you stuttered. yeah, you were busted.
“why weren’t you at dinner? nobody ever skips dinner”, sanji asked. his hand was still on your wrist as he looked into your eyes, a small bit of concern being prominent. “wasn’t hungry”, you muttered, looking away from him. he rose an eyebrow at your odd behavior, something was up and he knew it. “you don’t expect me to believe that when i just caught you trying to sneak leftovers, right?”, he asked, cocking his head to the side. “it doesn’t matter, just forget it. im going to bed”, you sighed, trying to pull your hand away from his hold. “tell me what’s wrong, y/n. did something happen? did someone say something?”, he asked, trying to look you in the eyes, something you were dodging.
“where is this concern suddenly coming from?”, you muttered just loud enough so he could hear you. that left him even more confused than before, his eyebrows tightening as he tried to figure out what you meant. the silence finally pushed you to look at him. you wanted to scoff at his confused expression. “you don’t care about me like the others, and you don’t have to pretend to because it’s just us here”, you told him, your voice a bit stern. his eyes widened at your words, shocked and lost. “wait, what? where is this coming from?”, he asked, a mix of concern and confusion lacing his words. “you always avoid me, sanji, and it hurts. it hurts a lot. you don’t look at me the same way you look at nami and other girls, you always keep our conversations short, hell, sometimes you don’t even look at me when we’re talking. i get it, maybe i’m not pretty like nami, or as entertaining as luffy and usopp, but is that really enough of a reason to hate me?”, you ranted, your voice cracking. once you started, you couldn’t get yourself to stop, it was a never ending pile of word vomit.
once you finished, you sighed, sniffling as you wiped a few tears running down your face. the silence was deafening as you looked at the ground, anxiously waiting for his response. “…is that really what you think?”, he finally muttered, his voice just loud enough so you could hear him. your silence clearly told him what your answer was. “y/n, look at me”, he asked. you remained still, your eyes staring daggers into the ground. he sighed, gently moving your head with two fingers so you’d face him. “listen to me when i say this. i do not hate you. it’s the complete opposite of that, actually. if i knew what i was doing made you feel like this, i would’ve stopped being such a wimp”, he sighed. you rose an eyebrow at his choice of words. “wimp?”, you questioned. “the truth is that i really, really like you. so much that i become a nervous wreck around you. that’s why i kept our conversations so short and never looked you in the eye. cause if i did, i’d probably explode on the spot. but to think that because i was such a coward that i had you feeling like this, had you skipping a meal all because i was nervous. i’m such an asshole”, he spoke, his regret being notable in his tone.
your eyes were blown open at his words, your jaw a bit agape. this whole time you thought he hated your guts, but in reality, it was the complete opposite. he was just nervous around you. you didn’t even know someone like him could get nervous around women. before you could reply, you felt his arms wrap around you, knocking the breath out of you due to shock. “im sorry, y/n. please forgive me. it hurts to see you cry, and it’s even worse knowing it’s my fault”, he apologized, his voice dripping with sorrow. you opened your mouth to speak, but you couldn’t even find words. you were shocked to say the least. sanji took the silence as a form of not accepting his apology, so he sighed. “it’s alright, i understand, i’ll-“, “NO! no, wait. i’m just shocked, that’s all… i forgive you… it’s alright”, you yelped, grabbing onto the sides of his arms. his eyes were wide for a moment, but quickly softened. a small smile grew on his face as he looked at you .
“you know what would be a nice make-up gift, though?”, you started. “what is it? i’ll do anything, you name it”, he answered quickly, pulling away from you to look you in the eyes. just as you were about to speak, your stomach let out a loud grumble. the two of you froze for a second. “guess my stomach spoke for me, huh?”, you laughed. sanji let out a light chuckle.
“one fresh plate coming up!”
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© mirkoluvs. please do not copy, modify, or repost on other platforms. thank you !!
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monstersflashlight · 1 month
Note
Gym slut but they meet again the next day and the reader is awkward af
Hi! I don’t know if this is awkward or embarrassed or what to catalog it really, but I had a ton of fun writing it, that’s for sure. Hope it fits your request, tho. Enjoy!
Gym slut: the day after
Orc x fem!reader || Humiliation, blowjob, public sex (nobody sees, tho) (part 1 in case you hadn't read it)
You were exiting your car when you saw him, trying to ignore him as he passed. He didn’t let you. “Hey you! Not even a hello today?” You turned around, his smirk so big you could almost feel it in your body. His green skin looked so soft under the rising sun. Dang he was attractive…
“H- hi.” You choked out, your face blushing as you looked down. “You look… strong.” You said, mentally chastising yourself for being so stupid. Who the fuck says that? Strong? He looks strong?
He laughed really hard. “Thanks?” You walked next to each other, your face getting more and more red by the second. You felt so embarrassed and you didn’t even know why. “You weren’t so shy yesterday, darling.” He said as he held the door for you. You passed him, mortification making your embarrassment worse. He chuckled as he looked at you. “You look awfully uncomfortable today. Sore?” He teased. You flushed harder. You didn’t even know how you were still up with all the blood rushing to your face.
“A little.” You whispered, your voice barely audible, unable to meet his eyes as he chuckled.
“What a bummer. I was hoping to leave you filled and dripping again.” You looked around rapidly, making sure nobody else heard him. You breathed out as you saw you were completely alone, like usual.
You kept walking in front of him on the way to the changing rooms. “Yeah… bummer. Sorry.” Sorry? The voice inside your head was screaming at you to get it together and start acting like the normal you, the girl who didn’t shy away from flirting orcs. You kept going, his body close behind you, not touching, but close enough that you could feel the heat of his body against you back.
“Daaaang, your ass looks nice in those leggings.” He said, slapping your ass as you passed, making you jump and let out a screech. For fuck’s sake, get it together. “Look! It even jiggles.” He slapped you again. You moaned out loud as he laughed. You felt beyond mortified but hot, so fucking hot. You didn’t know what to say. He was so carefree and so easy going and you were still trying to process the pounding he gave you yesterday.
You entered the changing room before answering, mortified and confused. What the fuck was happening to you? You weren’t like that. You had to hide in the locker rooms for a few minutes before you could calm yourself down enough to go back out and start your workout. He was already there, lifting an ungodly amount of weight. Dang, no wonder he could lift you up so easily yesterday. You had to swallow a moan as you remembered.
Your lower back still felt sore, your pussy still raw. You could barely walk this morning, but you dragged yourself to the gym to see if you could see him again. You were hopeless, your pussy having a mind of its own. You knew you couldn’t even fit a finger inside your pussy today because of how raw it felt. You went home yesterday with his cum dripping out of your pussy and your leggings completely ruined. And you still couldn’t help yourself when you dressed this morning, not putting on panties under your leggings. You were the slut he called you, and that filled you with equal parts embarrassment and heat.
Your eyes locked as you stretched, he smirked at you, tusks shiny under the fluorescent lights. You looked down, feeling embarrassed beyond belief. “Where is the little slut who let a stranger creampie her sweet pussy yesterday?” He called out to you, his words made your pussy tingle and your and butterflies of nerves fly all around your stomach.
You squared your shoulders and answered: “Still here.” You bent down, your hands touching the floor as you heard him approach you.
He was closer than anticipated, when you stood up, his body was barely a foot away from you. His grin so big it felt like he was teasing you. Why was he so okay with all that happened? Why were you so awkward today? Ugh. Normally, you weren’t like that. He fucked the awkwardness into you. Maybe it was his cum. Maybe his creampie had some kind of magic that made you awkward.
“Doesn’t feel like it, darling.” He teased, the challenge clear in his voice. You could be mortified, embarrassed or any other thing, but you never backed down from a challenge. Something inside of you raised to the provocation, making your blood boil. Anticipation boiling inside you already.
“Don’t I? How would you know? You are a stranger.” You threw back, getting all up his space, your erect nipples touching his torso as you breathed hard. You had to look up to see his eyes. (How the fuck were orcs so tall?) The joy and mockery you found there made your anger rose, obscuring any other feeling inside of you. You wanted to prove him wrong. You wanted him to be the one being awkward around you.
He bent down, his mouth inches away from your ear as he whispered: “A stranger who fucked you so well you cried, slut.” You couldn’t have avoided it even if you tried. One second later, you were kissing the shit out of him as he groped your ass when he lifted you. You made out like teenagers as you ground down on his cock, whimpering when your pussy made contact with him. “Guess you weren’t joking about being sore, were you?” He chuckled.
“Nope. I’m very sore.” You blushed, hiding your face on his neck and biting down hard. He grunted, kneading your ass like it was a stress ball. Your mouth kept biting and sucking on his neck, probably leaving a bit fat hickey. You didn’t care, and guessed he didn’t either because he didn’t stop you.
“Good.” His growl was so deep that made your insides turn into jelly. “I like knowing you can still feel me.” Good lord his mouth. He had the filthiest mouth ever and you were all for it. He ran his fingers through the seam of your leggings. You knew the second he realized you weren’t wearing anything underneath. His hand stilled as he groaned. “You are not wearing panties.” It wasn’t a question and you nodded shyly. “You are a slutty, slutty woman.” It was your turn to groan. “You like that, don’t you? You like being a slut.”
“Yeesss…” You moaned, throwing your head back as he licked your neck. You felt the movement as he moved, your body still wrapped around his. He sat down on a bench, you on his lap.
“Tell you what. Because your pussy is still raw and I can’t use it, I’m gonna use your mouth. And you are going to let me, because you are a filthy girl who likes to be a slut for me, don’t you?” He was right. Him calling you a slut was completely true, you were a slut for big cocks, and you couldn’t deny it when he was supporting an erection as big as your forearm and your pussy was dripping thinking about it.
You groaned, disentangling yourself from his hold and kneeling between his legs instantly. You were taking his cock out before he could laugh about how eager you were. He fisted your ponytail and pulled, making you stop. “Nice and easy, don’t be too eager, slut.” He directed your movements from there, shoving your face against his dick, spreading precum all over your face. You opened your mouth, tongue out and looking up at him. He groaned. “I wish I had my phone so I could take a pic of you like that.” You shuddered, the thought of him doing just that making you hot all over.
He whispered praises and filthy words as he called you his slut while he pushed the fat head of his dick in and out of your mouth. You couldn’t take much more without choking, and he knew that. You tried to push him deeper, but his hold on your hair was too hard for you to do anything but to let him control the pace. You were, once again, a hole for him to fuck as he pleased. Yesterday he used your pussy, today he used your mouth. Either way, your pussy was quivering and you never felt so alive and so aroused.
“Touch yourself, slutty human.” He ordered. You complied, hand rapidly going into your leggings. Your pussy was dripping, probably soaking your leggings. They were going to get ruined, again.
But at that moment, with your knees hurting, your jaw stretched and your finger rubbing your clit, you didn’t care about clothes or about anything at all. You just cared about the green hunk in front of you and the way his fat cock felt against your tongue, almost hitting the back of your throat when he lost the pace he had going. He was close, you could sense it.
You moaned around him, catching him off guard and taking him deeper. He moaned, pressing a bit further, not caring about you anymore, just about his release. “Take it.” He said as he came deep down your throat, almost choking you. He pulled out enough for you to breathe as he kept coming on your tongue, filling your mouth to the brim. Some of it spilled out as he pulled out, jerking off over your face to make the last spurs land on your face. “So pretty like that.” He whispered. You flushed, feeling self-conscious. “Make yourself come.” He instructed, his eyes not leaving your face.
He took his fingers and slowly feeding you the come that landed on your face, pushing his fingers down your throat every single time. It was the single most erotic thing he did to you. Not the creampie, not the sharing with another, not the blowjob… Him looking intensely at you as he feed you his cum made your legs shake and your insides turn into mush. You came. Just like that. With his eyes on you and his fingers down your throat. Your own hand down your leggings, rubbing furiously at your clit. The soreness adding a nice edge of pain to your pleasure.
He grabbed your ponytail again, which was probably ruined at that point, and pulled you up from your kneeling position. It hurt, but it made your pussy convulse with aftershocks. “I gotta go. See you tomorrow, little slut.” He whispered against your ear as he kissed you deeply, his tongue seeking the last remains of his cum inside your mouth. You groaned and kissed him back, fervently. You made out for a couple more minutes, your body completely spent against his.
Your knees gave up when he let go of you. You landed on your ass, feeling the uncomfortable fabric of the soaked leggings rub the inside of your thighs.
Yeah, definitely ruined them.
Part 3 can be found here
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getosbigballsack · 3 months
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Random Thought! Geto's is jealous because Gojo had sex with you.
Ps: I wrote this as one of the drafts for @noroi1000 , but I never liked it for her, so I scraped it and wrote something completely different.
Nothing hurts more than finding out that your best friend broke the “bro code” just to have his stupid fantasies fulfilled. That’s how Geto Suguru felt when he caught his best friend Gojo Satoru having sex with you.
He promised, they both promised not to have romantic feelings for you or to be in any form of sexual intimate relationship with you. Why? Simply because you’re also their best friend and you know that they have a track record of being whores since high school. 
So Geto thought it would’ve been best to keep you out of that part of their lives. And even if they both had feelings for you, it would be best to love you from afar, rather than to be selfish only to end up hurting you in the end. 
But I guess those were false promises coming from the lying lips of Gojo. Those same lying lips he saw stealing kisses whenever Gojo thought that he wasn’t looking. Those same lying lips that decorates your neck with nothing but love bites, those same lying lips he saw eating you up on the bed, the night he caught Gojo having sex with you.
He can still remember the sound of your voice cursing Gojo’s name, moaning so sweetly for Gojo as the white haired man eats you out as though you were going to be the last meal for a long time.
Call him a pervert for standing at the door for as long as he did, watching the sight unfold before him. Gojo’s hand sliding up your shirt, tweaking your nipples, pinching the pebbled bud to have you arching your back into Gojo’s hand.
Those dainty little hands of yours that would so often braid his hair were now grabbing Gojo’s hair and scraping at Gojo’s scalp. He knew how soft your hand was, so he could only imagine the sheer amount of pleasure it feels to have his eyes rolling to the back of his head.
None of you were aware that he saw that night, but you’ve both noticed how cold he was towards Gojo and how distant he became with you. 
You tried asking him, you did tried, but all you ever get in response was the light shrug in his shoulders before turning and leaving you to go fuck off with one of his many one night stands. It didn’t bother you that much that he would leave you for a hookup. At this point, you were used to it.
But it did bother you very much whenever he was in a mood with you, and you had no clue what made him that way. Unlike you, though, Gojo had an idea as to why Geto was cold towards him, but he kept it to himself, in fear that he could have been wrong. 
Weeks turned into two months since Geto had found out that Gojo broke the ‘bro code’ and slept with you, and his behavior towards you both has not changed one bit. If anything, he was even more cold towards Gojo, and Geto would just completely ignore your presence despite the three of you sharing an apartment together. 
Though it still hurts that your best friend stopped talking to you. You’ve learned how to deal with it and just stayed focused on your relationship with Gojo. You guys weren’t dating as yet, and you are still having a bit of fun and going on dates. Gojo would buy you gifts, flowers, and lots of tasty food. He’ll take you out during the day when Geto wasn’t home and spend a night or two with you between the sheets in a hotel. 
Gojo was having a great time with you, too. Breaking that so-called promise with his best friend has done him now better than harm. He was happy to be around someone who genuinely had strong intimate feelings for him. It made him feel thing he had never felt before, and fuck everyone else, Geto too because he’d be damn if he allowed anything to ruin what you both had going on. 
It was only a matter of time before Gojo officially made you his girlfriend. He was just waiting for the right moment. 
That moment is when Geto decides to cut the crap and speak his mind. 
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gglitch1dd · 2 months
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Anger and Misunderstandings Pt 1 of 2
DILF Midoriya Izuku x Wifey Reader
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Context: An anon had asked me what if we had Angry Dilf Izuku but one of his kids disrespected reader, like what happened with angry Dilf Katsuki. Sorry for losing your question Anon.
[PART 2 OF 2]
This was a very interesting one to write considering the fact that Izuku grew up with basically a single mother and we've never seen him seriously punish the boys..
Note: Disrespect, shouting, arguments, angst
You sighed as you looked at the dishes that were still not done. You moved a hand to the bridge of your nose. Asahi hadn't done his chores- again.
Ever since Toshinori had gone to UA, you started losing a grip on Asahi. He was normally a very good kid, overwhelmingly brilliant especially at mathematics. He was the smartest kid you knew and it could be frustrating whenever he was doing college level mathematics at the age of fourteen and you couldn't help him, but he was overall patient and rather stoic.
However, you weren't sure whether it was puberty getting to him, or maybe it was something you weren't aware of but, Asahi seemed to find whatever you said as not necessary. Almost as if he didn't respect anything you said nowadays. He always had his headphones on and refused to talk to you. When he entered the car when you picked him up or whether it was moving around the house it was almost as if you just trying to talk to him was an inconvenience in his life.
You furrowed your eyebrows as you moved to go upstairs to his room. You knocked on his door. "Asahi!" You called. But your son didn't answer. You knocked again. "Asahi!" He didn't answer.
With a sigh, you opened the door without confirmation and you saw your son sitting at his desk with his headphones on. Sensing that something had changed, he took off his headset and turned to you. He sat up with furrowed eyebrows, shocked that you would enter without his permission. "Mom!" He slipped off his headphones to rest on his neck.
"Asah, why haven't you done the dishes?" You asked as you folded your arms confused, ignoring his offended look.
He ignored your question as he paused the game he was busy playing. "Mom, what the hell! You can't just enter my room like that!"
You tilted your head to the side as you looked at him. "I can and I will. Now can you please get off of your PC and go do the dishes."
He rolled his eyes. "Please, mom, you can do the dishes." You stated as he turned back to look at his monitor.
Your eyebrows raised in surprise. "That's your chore, young man. It isn't mine." You reminded him, however Asahi ignored you as he slipped on his headset.
"Sorry guys, my mom's just being annoying." He stated deadpan with you still in the room.
You paused. You weren't sure whatever the hell was wrong with him but you wouldn't just stand there and take it. You walked over to the power switch, and flipped it to switch everything off. Immediate his screen went black, his green eyes widened in surprise before his head whipped to look at you. You stood with a serious expression as you stood back up straight.
He opened his arms out in shock and offense. "Mom what the fuck is wrong with you?"
"Don't you swear at me!" You shouted back at him, deciding that maybe raising your voice wouldn't be a bad idea. "I am talking to you and you're not listening to me! I told you to go and was the dishes. Recently, you haven't been listening to me and I'm sick and tired of it." You told him.
"Mom, get out of my room."
"What?"
"I said," He stood up as he pointed a finger to the open door. "Get out of my fucking room! Jesus Christ, just let me breathe!" He shouted at you. You barely got to understand what was going on when you were being shoved out of his room. You felt his hands push you out. Next thing you know you just barely caught yourself out of his room before the door was slammed right after you. You heard the door lock, keeping you out.
You kept a hand to the wall as you tried to process what just happened.
"Mom?" Hero stood in the hallway with a concerned look on his face. He held a rugby ball in his hands as he looked between the door and you. He put down the ball and walked over to you. He took you by your arm as he helped you to stand straight and away from the wall. "Are you okay? What happened?"
You weren't sure how to answer him but you gave him a forced smile. "It's okay, honey. Thank you for helping me" You told him with a kiss to his forehead, pushing back his green curls. He looked at you with furrowed eyebrows worried. "I just need to call your father for something. Do you mind doing the dishes for me?"
He shook his head with a smile. "Nope." He turned to head back downstairs. With a flick of his fingers, the rugby ball he was previously holding, floated back up to him and into his hands. He went back down the stairs.
You didn't move for a second but then you turned and you went into your room, closing the door behind you. You took out your phone and called Izuku.
"Hey, my love! You know, I don't know what new recipe you used for this muffin but it tastes spectacular!" He told you from the otherside of the line, you could hear him munching on the otherside which made you smile. "What's up?"
You opened your mouth to speak but suddenly you didn't have the words. You felt your throat close up and suddenly you couldn't speak. You felt tears burn at your eyes as you leaned against the wall closing your eyes. "Izuku..." It was all you could let out.
"What's wrong? Where are you? Are you hurt?" The change in tone was instantaneous and serious.
You shook your head but you knew he couldn't see you. "Izuku, I can't do this anymore." You whispered softly. "I don't know what I did wrong or why he suddenly hates me." You let the tears fall as you put a hand to your head.
"Who?"
"Asahi." You revealed to him.
You tried calming yourself down, taking deep breaths as to regulate your breathing. "Honey, just breathe for me. I want you to breathe and tell me what happened? Is he giving you a rough time again?"
You let out a shaky breath but then you told him everything he needed to know. You told him how Asahi had been behaving towards you and what he said to you today as well. You tried telling him without bursting into tears, but it was difficult, but Izuku listened. he listened until you were done with your story. He stayed silent the entire time.
You let out a small hiccup as you moved a hand to your face. "Hero is doing the dishes but... Izuku I don't know what to do."
Your husband didn't respond immediately, the line being silent. "Y/N."
"Yes?"
"I'm coming home. Stay there."
Without any other word for debate, Izuku put down the phone.
You had washed your face and effectively calmed down by the time that Izuku had come back. Koda was now in your room, having wanted to take a nap with you in your room, which had him and you snuggled up in bed together, his head on your lap as you were on the cusp of tired sleep.
The door to your bedroom, opened which revealed your husband who walked through the door with his workbag on his shoulder. He dropped his bag on the floor and walked over to you.
"Izuku." You let out softly. "You didn't have to cut your day short."
He walked over to your side of the bed, moving to put his hand to your face, his large hand was gentle as he cupped your cheek. "I did." He told you honestly. He looked over your face. "Are you hurt? Are you alright?"
You put your hand over his own with a gentle smile. "I'm fine." You informed him.
"Good." With that, you saw your husband's face harden as he moved back out of the room.
Your eyebrows furrowed as you carefully put Koda's head off of your lap and moved him into your arms. You carried him out of your room, figuring that you and Izuku might need to talk later, so you moved him to nap in his room, before following after Izuku. You closed the door so that he wouldn't be disturbed. Izuku moved to open Asahi's door but noticed it was locked. He frowned.
There had been a rule in your house on no locked doors that wasn't the master bedroom or the front door. Clearly that rule had been broken.
Izuku gripped the door handle again and it didn't take much effort with just a slight shock of power of One for All, that he broke the lock and opened the door, pushing in like it was nothing.
Asahi took off his headphones, but his eyebrows raised in surprise at the sight of his father. Knowing that today was a long day and one that Izuku would typically be back in the evening. But then he noticed that his father was actually in his room and the lock wasn't still on. "Dad? What are you-"
"What did you say to your mother?"
"What?"
"Do not say 'what' to me. You heard me." You stayed out of the conversation between the both of them but you stayed by the door not wanting to come in. Izuku stood with his hands resting on his hips. Asahi was silent as he stared up at his dad. Izuku tilted his head. "Hm? You can disrespect your mother and shout at her but you can't talk to me? Talk to me like you talked to your mother." He motioned back to you. Asahi remained silent. Izuku frowned, green eyes dark and nothing but disapproval on his face. "Did you, or did you not talk back to my wife when she told you to do the dishes? I want an answer."
"I..." Asahi felt a ball in his throat as he looked down away from Izuku. "I did."
"Who are you talking to?"
He hesitated. "You, dad."
"And how do you address me?" He asked with a borderline scowl. Asahi kept his head down, not looking up at him. Izuku wasn't even shouting and yet you could feel the tension in the room.
"Sorry, sir."
Izuku let out a huff, satisfied with that answer. "Did you raise your voice at my wife?"
"I did, sir."
"Did you curse at my wife?"
"I did, sir."
"Did you slam the door on my wife? Did you lay a hand on my wife?" He asked.
"Yes, sir. I'm sorry."
Izuku let out an amused cynical chuckle. "Are you?" He asked with a tilt of his head. "Because you didn't seem sorry when you did it. Let me remind you, of something, Asahi..." Izuku bent down to look at his son dead in the eye. He pointed back to you. "Before she is your mother, she is my wife. This is our house and you are going to respect that and you are going to respect her. If she tells you to do something, you do it. I don't want excuses or back chat, or anything coming out of you. She brought you into this world and she deserves your respect. Do you understand me?"
Asahi nodded his head as he looked away from his father, with a frown. "Yes, sir."
Izuku stood back up straight as he moved his hands to his hips. "Now where on earth did you get such an attitude from, because you sure as hell did not get it from me, nor did you get it from this family either. So where did you get it from?"
Asahi shrugged but kept quiet. He swallowed down not saying a word.
Izuku didn't like that. "You really don't know?" He didn't receive a response back. Izuku sighed as he nodded his head. "Okay."
Your husband moved from his spot as he reached over to unplug his computer from the wall. Asahi's eyes went wide as he stood up from his chair. "What are you doing?"
"You're being punished." Izuku said simply. Lifting up the PC, like it weighed nothing, picking it up off the table.
"Dad! That's not-" Asahi stopped talking as his father gave him a look that quickly shut him up.
Izuku paused as he looked at his son. "Not fair? Shouting at your mother in her own house is not fair." He turned and put the PC outside of Asahi's room before dusting his hands and looking back to your fourteen year old son.
"But my friends talk like that all the time." He reasoned.
Bingo.
Izuku tilted his head, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. "Well you need new friends, Asahi because that isn't the way we talk to adults, nevertheless the ones that are the reason for your existence. What does it matter what your friends think?"
Asahi frowned, clearly angry with what his father had said. "Dad, you don't know what it's like to be in school! I'm the youngest one in my class and I'm quirkless!" He put his hand to his chest. "I'm not like Toshinori that can just be like you and have an amazing quirk and have friends! You don't know what it's like to be quirkless!"
"I do know what it's like!" Your husband expressed, with urgency. Seeing a piece of his young middle school self in his son. "I know what it's like to be bullied and rejected for being different, but I never disrespected my parents because of it."
"How would you know? You don't know how it feels to have you as a dad! You don't know how it feels like to have a dad at all!" The moment the words flew out of his mouth, he instantly regretted it.
Your face fell in shock, as you quickly put a hand over your mouth in shock. Izuku didn't move, but his face fell of all emotion. Not a hint of sympathy, empathy or even anger. He was emotionless.
You quickly entered the room and you put a hand to Izuku's arm. You took his hand in your own as you tugged him backwards, towards the door. "He didn't mean it." You told him softly. However, your husband didn't look at you, as he looked at Asahi.
Asahi hesitated. "Dad-"
Izuku raised a finger, indicating that he didn't want to hear it. A shaky breath left your husband and you moved to hold onto his arm. Izuku closed his eyes but moved to pull you into his side, moving to have you pushed into his side as he took a moment.
Izuku took a few seconds, before finally giving a response. "Pack your bags." He spoke void of emotions. Asahi's face fell in fear. "You're going to stay with your grandma this weekend. I... I am not angry with you, I am just deeply disappointed in you. I think we all need time to think and re-evaluate this conversation and to be away. Just for the weekend." Leaving nothing more to the conversation, your husband turned and went out of the room.
Nothing was said for a moment as you both watched Izuku leave. You turned back to look at your son, not entirely sure what to say yourself.
Asahi looked to you. "Mom... Mom you've got to-" Asahi stepped towards you but froze. He watched you step a step back in caution, almost as if you were afraid he was going to push you again. You didn't think to do it. It was an automatic response. However, Asahi saw it. You had never stepped away from him before. Tears brimmed at his eyes. "Mom..."
You let out a breath, not sure how to tackle this. You swallowed down hard and turned to leave the room. "Just please, pack your bags for the weekend. I'm sure your grandma would be glad to have you. Just..." You hesitated. "Just be nice to her. You know how gentle she is. I'll be back to help you pack." You moved to follow after Izuku.
Your husband was back in your shared bedroom. You closed the door behind you as you turned to look at him, his hands covered his face as he sat there, motionless. Your own eyebrows furrowed but you walked towards him. You moved to thread your hands through his hair, standing between his legs.
At the feeling of your embrace. He moved to wrap his arms around you, burying is face by your stomach. You heard stuttering breaths. He held onto you tightly, almost as if you would disappear. You were both silent as you existed together for a moment. You carefully crawled into his lap, allowing him to move so that he could bury his face in your neck as he held you in his arms.
You placed a kiss to his neck as you pulled a hand through his hair. "You made a good decision." You told him softly.
Izuku was silent for a second. "I hate what he said."
"I know."
"I was so fucking angry. Y/N, I could have-"
"I know." You nodded your head with a soft whisper. You rubbed his back. "But you didn't. That's what makes you a good man, and a good father too." You reminded him.
He nodded his head with a stuttered breath but you held him. Suddenly you felt soft gentle kisses to your neck.
You paused. "Izuku..."
"Please." He whispered softly. "I don't want to think right now." He confessed. You felt one hand snake underneath your shirt as he crawled up your back. "Please..." He asked.
You couldn't deny that it was tempting and you couldn't deny it yourself. You sighed and nodded. "Okay." You allowed it, moving his face up to look at you, eyes red with tears. He kissed you and you kissed him back.
-Glitch1d
[Midoriya Izuku Masterlist]
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thisthatpinkvenom · 5 months
Text
FREAKS ON A FRIDAY
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COLLEGE BF!WOOYOUNG / FEM READER
⤏ Synopsis: Your boyfriend, Wooyoung, is as cool as a cucumber. You, not so much. When you go into a jealous fit at a Friday night party, he's nothing short of amused at how cute you are. And he knows just how to simmer down your hot temper.
⤏ Genre(s): *drabble, smut (what's new?)
⤏ Content: college!au, established relationship!au, non-idol!au
⤏ NSFW Warning(s): unprotected piv, mean switch!Wooyoung, switch!fem reader, face slapping, hair pulling, oral (fem receiving), nipple play, dirty talk, possessiveness, reader has nipple piercings, please keep in mind that both are quite masochistic
⤏ Note*: this content is completely fictional.
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“My eyes are up here, Dickhead!”
“But my eyes are down here, Sugartits; not my fault they’re right in front of me.”
Your boyfriend, Wooyoung, sat himself on the toilet lid, his hands that found home on your hips pulling you closer as you stumbled between his parted thighs. He wasn’t fazed at all by your eyes that were blown out in anger, veiling that shit-eating grin you knew all too well behind a composed smirk. If it weren’t obvious already, it took a lot more than your cute little tantrums to have an effect on him. He knew how to handle that short fuse of yours like clockwork.
“You are not allowed to call me that right now.”
“C’mon, you love it when I call you that,” he slurred, nuzzling his face between your breasts in the process. To his dismay, you wriggled out of his hold, leaning against the wall before tucking your chest under your arms.
“Why don’t you ask Kristen or Kirsten—whatever the hell her name is—to let you motorboat her tits?” you spat.
Wooyoung couldn’t resist the laugh that fought hard to escape his lips, shaking his head and adjusting the shades that kept most of his bangs away from his face. He didn’t let your seething demeanor stop him from joining you once again, pressing his frame gently against you with a hand resting on the wall beside your head. The other cradled your chin between his fingers, and that grin of his showed up in its full form.
“There’s no girl’s tits I wanna motorboat other than yours, Baby.”
You rolled your eyes, hoping that was enough to distract yourself from your thumping heart.
“Well, aren’t you such a romantic?” you said, voice laced with sarcasm.
A few knocks at the door stole your attention for a fleeting moment, and you both opt to ignore them. Wooyoung sighed once the knocks became louder, briefly retracting from you to yell out, “It’s occupied!”
“Not anymore. I’m leaving,” you muttered. But before you could move, he’s got you cornered again, and it’s your turn to sigh. Despite the smile still lingering on his lips, he sounded more serious this time.
“How many times do I have to tell you that Kirsten’s just a friend? You jealous girl,” he said, no malice in his tone. Rather, he was quite gentle with how he spoke to you.
“She was playing with your hair!”
“And she has a girlfriend, Baby—who was right beside her.”
Your lips parted and closed a few times as you tried to gather your words, but you didn’t know what to say. He took it as a sign to continue reassuring you, placing his hand on your warm cheek.
“I’m sorry I didn’t make it clear to you, I should’ve. I don’t see her that way at all; she definitely does not see me that way. I’ll consider your feelings more from now on, okay?”
Your lips formed a pout, and you couldn’t bring yourself to look him in the eyes as embarrassment washed over you.
“I’m sorry for overreacting. It’s just that…your hair—”
“You like being the only one pulling on it, huh?”
He didn’t hide that he noticed how his question had caught you off guard.
“W-What?”
“Don’t play all ‘shy girl’ with me now. You know, I can still feel the effects of how hard you pulled on my hair last night,” he purred. “You would love it if I got on my knees and let you run your fingers in my hair right now, hm?”
You stammered his name under your breath when he licked a strip along your neck, kissing and sucking your skin before moving lower to your breasts. It never bothered him too much when you wore a form-fitting shirt and forewent a bra, the shape of your piercings bulging under the tight, stretchy fabric. That was as long as he was the only one who had the privilege of playing with them, of course. And when your shirt was bunched above your breasts, he stole more than just a quick look. His eyes were hungry, staring long enough to brand the image of your tits in his mind.
Two cute little silver hearts for both of your nipples, hugging the buds together just perfectly. You just had them pierced a month or so ago, and you’d be lying if you denied that half the reason why you did was for Wooyoung. You wanted to get something that was only to share with him; in a sense, it made your heart flutter at how intimate it really was. Maybe a few others got a glimpse of your piercings sometimes, but Wooyoung always received the full experience.
“I’ll never get tired of these,” he murmured, pressing his thumbs on your nipples to light a reaction from you. He was good at catching every little detail about you, savoring each short breath you took, how your lips parted, and the way your tummy contracted from any shock of pleasure.
“You really went through that pain for me,” he stated more so than asked.
“It’s worth it,” you whispered. “And it feels...hah”—your face contorted when he captured your nipple between his lips—“it feels s-so good now. So sensitive…”
He hummed. “I bet it does.”
The air was so thick and hot, polluted with the pungent mix of alcohol and weed; it made you a little lightheaded. The shitty trap song muffled by the door went deaf on your ears, and all you could focus on was the wet muscle that toyed with your nipple. Your hand found its way to the other, begging to be touched and tweaked between your fingers. The heat between your legs was growing to be unbearable, thighs spread apart as if they were ready to welcome his touch between them.
He released your flesh with a pop, giving you one dizzying kiss that had him dropping to his knees nearly going unnoticed by you. He squeezed your thighs in his hands, eventually snaking them higher to push the hem of your denim skirt up. You threw on whatever pair of underwear you could find in your drawer and unfortunately for you, they were light enough to show an embarrassingly dark spot left by your arousal. And fortunately for him, he got to ogle at it.
His finger wagged against your clothed nub, an almost mocking chuckle leaving him. “What an easy girl you are.”
“Sh-Shut up.”
“Make me.”
You didn’t know what came over you to do what you did next. Your panties slipped down to your ankles and before he knew it, his shades slipped from his hair as you grabbed a fistful of his locks at the base, shoving his head between your legs. Wooyoung made a small sound of surprise, though he easily complied, parting his lips almost immediately to suck on your clit.
“Why are you s-such a tease, Wooyo?” you whined, frustration building in your tone as you hooked one leg over his shoulder and began to roll your hips. “You piss me o-off sometimes!”
He groaned when the grasp on his hair tightened, your nails grazing his scalp in an almost indescribable, painful pleasure that had blood rushing up his cock. His hands searched for purchase on your thighs, his own nails digging into your flesh deep enough that they’d leave little crescents behind.
“S-Sometimes I feel like you really need me to ride your face to sh-shut you up,” you moaned.
He’d nearly creamed in his pants right then and there. You were so fucking cute and hot all in one when you were mad like this.
“Wooyo, g-gonna cum! Gonna cum, gonna cum—oh, my fucking God…”
With one last whimper, you reached climax, bliss intoxicating your senses as you rode your orgasm out on his face until you reached satisfaction. You released your grip on his hair, pushing him away gently while you caught your breath, waiting out the twitching in your thighs to settle down in silence. Your boyfriend was left speechless for a minute, dazed as if there was nothing in that pretty little head of his other than the voice that told him to lick your cum off his lips.
The next thing you knew, your ass was perched on the countertop, your hand accidentally flipping the faucet on in an attempt to balance yourself. Wooyoung stood between your thighs and unbuckled his belt, slipping out his cock from underneath his boxers. As much as you loved seeing him naked, you were always fascinated by the sight of him fully clothed, nothing but his erection dripping with pre-cum exposed to you. Maybe it was the urgency—the need to fuck you right now so overpowering that he didn’t have the patience to strip his clothes off.
“You’re such an impatient little brat,” he huffed, a hushed groan interrupting his thoughts when he slid his cock in your warmth. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you savored the sensation of being stretched open for the first time that night. He grabbed handfuls of your ass before landing two simultaneous smacks that aroused a yelp from you, and whispered, “You’re lucky that I liked that.”
He didn’t warn you about the strong thrust that had your jaw dropping, one that was followed by a series of jackhammered movements that left you a broken, moaning mess. You probably didn’t sound the prettiest right now, switching between whimpers and pants like you were some bitch in heat. But the beauty of Wooyoung was that you didn’t have to be insecure about how you sounded, because he liked everything that was you. Even if he fucked you like he hated your guts.
“What was that you said about riding m-my face? To shut me up, h-huh? How about I fuckin’ slap you to teach you a lesson?” he grunted.
You swore that you felt a surge of your arousal dripping on the countertop with every pounding from his cock. Nothing turned you on more than a nice slap on your face from Wooyoung, you nearly melted into a pile of mush in his grasp.
“F-Fuck—yes!” you cried.
His thrusts never wavered as his hand lingered near your face, ready to land a firm hit on your cheek.
“Mm, here it comes, Baby.”
One, two, three slaps came at you that rendered you dizzy, the stinging pain on your cheek dissipating into a tingling pleasure. Wooyoung’s eyes studied in lust at how your own had fluttered shut, the whites peaking underneath your lashes as he soothed the affected area with his thumb. He repeated the same pattern one more time, almost disgustingly enamored at how much of a painslut his sweet girl was.
“Need to learn how to control your temper,” he muttered.
There was something about your pout and your knitted brows, matched with your flushed skin and your disheveled hair that had him going. How could he resist a face like that?
“I just—ah—love you s-so much, Wooyo!”
You were too cute for your own good.
His hand led yours onto his face, warm to the touch and glistening with sweat. With a few nods, he said softly, “S-Slap me…I haven’t been good e-either, Baby.”
“Wooyo,” you crooned.
“Do it n-now,” he insisted. “I’m all yours.”
And with that, your fingers reached for the back of his head, grasping his hair near his scalp before pulling it back. Wooyoung let out a wanton moan when your hand met his cheek. His hips began to slam against you at unbridled speeds as he began to lose himself in pure, sexual bliss.
“Fuck…hit me h-harder! Like you fucking mean it,” he whined. His cock continued to ram in and out of you, growing sloppier with each fuck as you watched his eyes glaze with tears, and his cheeks flushed with pink. You did as you’re told and slapped him with a firm smack, and that’s what it took for him to smash your lips together with his own. You threw your arms around his neck while he groped your breast, fondling your nipple with his thumb as you both swallowed the other’s growingly high-pitched moans.
“You’re mine,” you mumbled against his lips.
Those two words were enough for him to release a guttural groan, filling your pussy with spurts of cum that left him trembling. But he didn’t stop there, muffling his cries of overstimulation by sinking his teeth into your shoulder. You could feel the warm tears dripping onto your back, the desperate need to make you cum becoming so apparent that it made your head spin. And with a few more frantic bucks from his hips, your walls suffocated his throbbing cock with a selfish squeeze, your gratified mewls melding with his broken pleas.
His weight toppled over you while you’re rendered boneless, legs falling limp against the bottom cupboards after releasing his waist. Wooyoung snuggled his face into the crook of your neck, absorbing the intoxicating pheromones that have begun to mask your fading perfume. You’re both left speechless for a few minutes, digesting the music that had been indistinct to your ears during your little fuck session. And when you’re ready, you each check on the other, sharing vulnerable kisses and sweet nothings that were reserved only between you and him.
You didn’t know exactly how long you’d spent time in the bathroom, but judging by the glaringly sour looks of a few who stood nearby on the outside, you’d say you took a considerable amount of sweet time. And as you expected from your ever-so-composed boyfriend, he sent the next person a smirk, rubbing his own red, blotchy cheek. Fixing his shades on top of his head, he entwined his fingers with yours soon after.
“It’s all yours.”
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sistertotheknowitall · 3 months
Text
Some Guy on Fear Gas (can apparently turn invisible)
Masterpost
“Danny was supposed to be in class today.”
There was a round of sighs in the coms. See Danny didn’t react in the same manner as the rest of the population when exposed to fear toxin (or in general, but they were mostly used to that). See Danny didn’t scream, he didn’t cry, he didn’t get violent. He got unnervingly paranoid.
He got so unnervingly paranoid about being watched, specifically by the government if the muttered and whispered words were to be believed. His eyes tracked nothing while he slowly moved around invisible people. It wasn't like dealing with someone in an active hallucination experiencing a psychotic break. It was like dealing with someone in a paranoid delusion. He wouldn't let any of the bats near him and often took off, disappearing into the chaos.
Four months into seeing this kid everywhere and their suspicions were confirmed when he literally disappeared after the second time being poisoned.
Danny was a meta and he was afraid.
That’s not the reason for the exasperation felt by this family though. It was what always happened after. The first time he ignored every vigilantly when they tried to bring it up. After the second time he attempted to avoid everyone, extended family included.
(He had asked Kate if she was also Batman’s kid. “More like their aunt.” “Oh okay so it really is a family business. Like that show Unnatural. You don't happen to have also lost your parents at a relatively young age and now go on to fight a dark presence in their honor, do you?.” Kate had stared passively at him, the others had warned her. “….. okay… are you more of a Zuko honor type?”)
However, it was like the universe conspired against Danny. Even Bruce agreed that there had to be some god or being doing this (nothing is ever a coincidence). They kinda felt bad for him. He was very obviously trying to avoid them and he was either really bad at being evasive or a deity was laugh at him. Once he had thrown himself behind a lamp pole smaller than himself and closed his eyes to avoid Stephanie.
(It was very awkward. He could turn invisible and knew they knew so why…..? She had politely continued past so not to embarrass the poor guy further. Cause this was embarrassing and they both knew it.)
Finally it was Duke who pulled them all out of limbo. He had come across Danny on the roof of another bank. A lesser known capital union closer to crime ally this time.
Danny hadn’t been avoiding Duke in the same manner as everyone else. He still stopped to give Duke food but he never spoke and he ran after. Duke thought it would be weird to chase him but it was also weird to turn around, have an orange shoved into his hands then watch his friend run away.
However, this time Danny didn’t run as Duke approached so Duke sat next to him. Pulling out a granola bar, he handed it to Danny, “that’s why you feed me all the time right? Cause you know how many calories we need as metas.”
Danny had laughed, “no actually, that was a bit that morphed into a habit. I just thought it was funny.”
“….what.”
“Don’t get me wrong, now that we’re friends I am more than happy to feed you but yeah. The first candy bar was a thank you and then the second time I thought ‘I have fruit.’”
“….. wow… okay.” There went his plan of empathizing. They sat in silence as Duke tried to reorganize his thoughts.
“I’m sorry for avoiding you all.” Duke turned his head to face Danny, who kept his eyes forward, “you know no one cares that you’re a meta.” “Obviously. It wasn’t the invisibility that I was upset about," Danny said.
“The muttering. The paranoia.” Danny grimaced and didn’t say anything.
“You don’t have to tell us till you’re ready, man. Just let us know if you need help. Please, are you safe?”
Danny nodded and Duke nodded back and they had both continued to sit. When they parted ways Danny handed Duke a small bag of chips.
Danny had apologized everyone one at a time even though they had heard it from Duke. Danny never explained nor did he want to talk about his it. His power of invisibility was also a subject off limits. All of them were worried but they didn’t want to force him to talk about it. They had to trust that he would one day feel comfortable doing so with any or all of them. (Still, it was hard seeing their friend so paranoid that he flinched back from them. )
Post Six
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laenordeservedbetter · 5 months
Text
Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want
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Words: 1k
Pairing: Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Demigod!Reader (Godly parent not specified)
Synopsis: Clarisse was fine with not getting anything she wanted until she laid her eyes on you.
Warnings: Pining, whipped!Clarisse, This is mostly in Clarisse's POV, handling of dangerous weapons (a dagger and a spear). [Let me know if I missed any.]
A/N: I apologize if the storyline is messy. I wanted this to be longer, but my attention span was not cooperating with me today. I had to take a lot of breaks while writing this because I could not sit still for more than five minutes.
masterlist || previous work
Clarisse remembers the first time she saw you.
You were in the forge, polishing some of the newly-made spears because you had nothing better to do. You were under the supervision of Luke since he was showing you around, but the boy had kept his distance, opting to just watch from the sidelines as you worked. Clarisse had walked into the forge, the chatter that was going on around you stopping. You discontinued what you were doing in order to look at her, wondering why your fellow campers were on-edge at her presence.
Your eyes met hers, taking her aback.
She hadn’t seen you before.
Once Clarisse realized that she was staring, she promptly cleared her throat, scowling. “What are you looking at, newbie?” She asked, crossing her arms. Her plans on scaring you, however, failed when you smiled sheepishly.
You had been equally mesmerized by her, something that she failed to notice. “Sorry, you’re just so—”
Clarisse held her breath, preparing herself for an accusation (that she’s mean and terrifying – both of which are true, but words that sting nonetheless). Though, it’s not like she’s going to think about it for the rest of –
“—Pretty.” You conclude your sentence.
Oh.
Clarisse’s brows furrowed. She thought she would hear something insulting, but instead she was met with a compliment? Her eyes searched yours once again, looking for a trace of malice. She didn’t find any, which made her confusion stir all the more. She scoffs, furious at herself for not being able to figure you out. “Whatever.” Clarisse walks away, turning her back on you so as to not show her weakness. She storms back to the Ares cabin, forgetting the reason why she went to the forge in the first place.
You frown as you look at the dagger in your hand, examining the initials engraved on the grip.
C.L.R.
---
The next time Clarisse saw you was when you were watching her train, your eyes following her every move. Clarisse pretended to ignore you until she found herself unable to focus. She put down her spear, turned to you and asked, “Would you like me to teach you?” before she could even stop the words from tumbling out of her mouth.
You nodded eagerly, “Yes, please.”
You walked over and Clarisse pretty much had to use all her self-restraint to not just stand there and stare at you.
“…Alright, so you hold this and—”
---
It had been ages since that day.
Even though you and Clarisse have gotten closer, there was still a part of her that longs for more. See, ninety-nine percent of the time, her wishes don’t come true. Or it does, for a little while, but then it gets ripped away from her grasp. She gets her hopes up and then it all comes crashing down – a cycle that never ends.
Clarisse has come to terms with the thought that she will never gets what she wants. She supposed that she was okay with that, but then you came along and everything changed. For every smile, every crinkle of your nose, every stupid joke that made you laugh, she finds herself wanting to wish that you would feel the same way she does.
“Clary?”
She snaps out of her reverie and looks at you, “Yes?” She felt embarrassed for not paying attention, smiling apologetically.
“I asked if you wanted to—”
“Yes.”
You sit up in her bed, laughing. “I haven’t even finished the sentence yet.” You grab her hand gingerly, locking your fingers together. “I was going to ask if you wanted to go with me—”
“Yes.”
“Clarisse,” You whine, “Let me continue first.” You pout, trying to let go of her hand, but Clarisse wouldn’t let you.
Clarisse shakes her head, holding on to your hand firmly while her other brushes a strand of hair away from your face. “I don’t care. I’ll go wherever you go.” She says genuinely. Being that close to you made Clarisse’s heart race, but she couldn’t bring it in herself to look away because then you’ll know that something was up.
You stare at her in disbelief, crossing your arms, “Really? You’ll go with me to show the new kid around camp?”
Her lips purse and you know you’ve got her. Clarisse lets out a sigh of resignation. “No.” She mumbles. As much as she’d love to spend more time with you, she and you have very opposing ideas on how to welcome new campers.
“Thought so.” You deadpan.
“Why are you the one doing it, anyway?”
“Because I’m still in trouble for staying past curfew two days ago, pretty girl.”
Clarisse froze at the nickname. If her heart wasn’t beating fast before, it surely was now. You chuckle, beginning to make your way out of the bed. “Hey, no, where are you going?” Clarisse grabs your hand, another laugh escaping you.
“To give that tour.” You roll your eyes, successfully prying your hands away from Clarisse’s grip. You ignore her sounds of protest as you make your way to the door.
Clarisse could feel her stomach drop, feeling the warmth slip away the further your distance becomes. The longer she stares at you with your back turned, the longer she thinks you would leave without saying goodbye. To her surprise (and not for the first time), you look back at her.
“I’ll see you later at the bonfire.” You lean against the doorframe, your eyes narrowing. “Don’t be late, alright?”
Clarisse rolls her eyes at the look you give her. She was only late one time and that was because she was debating with herself whether to give you flowers or not. She wanted to tell you the real reason why she was late, but decided it would be best to keep her mouth shut. “I won’t.” She says instead.
“Good.” You straighten your posture, putting one foot out the door while a hand rested on the doorframe, giving Clarisse a smile she knows you only reserved for her. Only when she smiles back do you actually take your leave.
Clarisse gets a sense of hope upon your departure.
Maybe it would be different this time.
She leans back against the bed frame, sending out the same prayer to every god she could think of.
Please, please, please let me get what I want.
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