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verstappen-cult · 6 months

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I have a request for max!

Reader is a strategist for Mercedes. Max and her, they got married in secret and have a 2 year old daughter together.

I know this is not much to work with but you do you!

(I love your fics <3)

hi bestie! i left the mercedes’ strategist plot out of this, but i hope you still like it! btw this was gonna be really short and ended up being this other thing. <333

You look out the car window and then to your daughter playing with her favorite plushie next to you. She doesn’t know that you’re about to be the topic of conversation for the next week — month even. She only knows that there are gonna be a lot of people trying to take pictures of you both, and that you’re gonna see Dad’s friends too.

“Hey, baby.” You whisper, brushing a strand of blonde hair out of her face. “You’re ready to see Daddy?” She smiles at the mention of her favorite person in the whole world, forgetting all about her toy.

“Where are we?” She asks, looking out the window.

You lift her up onto your lap, placing a kiss on her temple. “We’re gonna watch papa just like we do from home every Sunday.”

“We have fun watching papa.”

“Yes, so,” You take your bag and her plushie before taking a deep breath. “let’s go and have some fun, then.”

It’s no secret to anyone that you and Max have been dating for quite a few years now. You used to be more public about your relationship, but then you got pregnant and Max decided that it was best if you kept things a little more private, and you were more than happy to do it until you started to miss going to the races and seeing him more often.

Max was a bit reluctant at first, but after some — a lot — of convincing he accepted. The two of you agreed to put some boundaries and to take things slowly. The first step was going to the Monaco Grand Prix, so, you wouldn’t have to travel and he could be home by the end of the day with his favorite girls. And, if things become too much, you can just go home.

The moment you set foot on the paddock, you know there is no going back. You feel nervous and like your whole body is on fire, but when you look at your daughter’s smile as you hold her in your arms, you forget about everything.

“Mama, look! Papa!” She points to the giant banner to your left. And there he is, alongside a few of the other drivers.

“Oi!” Dani calls from a few meters away. You wish he would not have done it because it draws attention you really didn’t want.

“Uncle Dani!”

You see the exact moment people recognize you, reporters starting to make their way to you at the same time you hurry to Dani’s side. He has a big, bright smile on his face, he’s always smiling but you think he’s genuinely happy to see you and your daughter.

“Hi, Dani.” The Aussie wraps an arm around your shoulder and kisses your cheek as a greeting.

“Hey, angel.” Your daughter makes grabby hands at Dani and, obviously, he immediately takes her in his arms. “Did you miss uncle Dani?” She nods, wrapping her tiny arms around his neck.

“Have you seen Max?” You ask him, but he shakes his head, too busy paying attention to whatever your daughter is telling him in the ear.

You don’t feel comfortable. It’s been so long since you’ve been in the paddock that now feels like you’re attending your first race for the very first time. You were nervous then, you are terrified now as you see reporters approaching, calling your name and asking about your daughter. It’s not that they don’t know you and Max have a daughter, you and Max have been pretty open about her but always leaving her face out of the family photos you share on social media. However, this is news to everyone. This is a headline. And you know they’re just doing their job.

“Let’s go find him, okay?”

You barely hear him, trying to politely tell the reporter by your left that you will not give any interview and to stop asking about your daughter. Daniel has to give you a little pat on the back to make you walk, sending death glares to the people surrounding you in the process.

There are phones and video cameras following you along the paddock, and you think you should’ve accepted Max’s offer of waiting for you at the entrance. But you didn’t want to be a burden. You were pretty confident about handling things by yourself but now… not so much.

“Hey, are you okay? You’re a little pale.” Dani’s voice is soothing. You’re glad he’s carrying your daughter because you don’t feel strong enough to do it. Someone behind you — one of the many, many people following you — pushes you, making you bump into another person by your side. “Watch out! There’s a baby here!”

Daniel is mad and doesn’t hesitate in wrapping an arm around your waist, guiding you inside the nearest place that turns out to be the McLaren hospitality.

“I’m gonna call Max, alright?”

“What’s happening outside? Oh, you’re here!”

“Uncle Lando!” Your daughter’s voice is what finally pulls you out of your head.

You walk to Dani, taking her in your arms. “Did you miss Uncle Lando too?”

“Is something wrong?” Lando asks again, bopping the little girl on the nose.

“So many people,” You breathe out, closing your eyes for a second. “I didn’t think it was going to be this way, really.”

“Well, it’s a big deal that you’re here. Both of you.” Lando looks outside, reporters and cameras ready to catch a glimpse for when you have to leave. “Do they know? The media, I mean, about…” He looks to your hand, right where your wedding ring is.

You groan, hiding your face in your daughter’s neck, making her giggle. “No, but I’m sure it will be worse when they notice.”

There’s a huge commotion outside that draws your attention. When you look, you find Max trying to make his way through the mass of people. Seeing him makes you relax immediately, but then he’s pushing a man when this shoves a microphone in his face and you don’t feel so relaxed anymore.

“Shit, shit” Daniel is quick to open the doors and go outside, a few members of McLaren following him. “Can you hold her, please?”

Your daughter goes willingly with Lando as you run outside. Daniel stands between the reporter and Max, his hand on your husband’s chest trying to stop him from jumping over him to get to the man.

There’s a bigger commotion when they see you, everyone shouting your name and asking questions that you don’t pay attention to, but it’s enough to make Max forget about fighting the reporter.

Max runs to you, hands cupping your face. “Hey, baby. Are you okay? Something happened?”

“I’m okay. Just—let’s go inside, please.”

Max doesn’t hesitate. He grabs your hand tightly, not caring about being seen going inside McLaren hospitality, not when you and his daughter are there needing him.

“Papa!”

Your husband’s face lights up, that pretty smile you love so much making its way onto his face. "Mijn mooie meisje.” The tension on his face goes away the moment he takes her in his arms.

“You wanna go home?” Lando asks you, handing you a glass of water.

“Yes, you’re going home.” Max answers for you, hugging his daughter tightly against his chest.

“We are not. We knew this would happen, well, not at this scale but,” You shrug, taking a sip of water. “I don’t wanna go. We should’ve planned this better.”

“Yeah, you should have.” Daniel jokes, but when no one laughs he just stands there awkwardly. “Look, she’s already here. You’re not gonna send her home, are you?”

Lando bites his lip before saying, “You won’t be able to hide forever.”

“I know!” Max sighs, putting down his daughter on one of the sofas. “Why don’t you play while I talk with your uncles for a bit?” Unaware of everything, she just takes her plushie and waits for you to be finished. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable or feel unsafe.”

“We’re safe here. Everyone will take care of us, I know that.” You take his hand, thumb caressing the back of it. “It was just the shock of experiencing all of this again. It reminded me of the first time I attended a race.” You say, shyly.

“Oh, I remember that.” He has that special glint in his eyes that tells you that he remembers every little detail of that day.

“Uh, gross.” Lando pretends to throw up, earning a playful push from Daniel.

“You sure you’re gonna be okay?”

“Yes, love. Besides, how are you gonna tell her she won’t be watching papa race?” You look at your little baby, talking with her plushie and showing the toy around. “I don’t know which one of us is more excited.”

“You know it’s only a matter of time before they notice this?” Max takes your hand to his lips, kissing your wedding ring.

“I want them to know.”

“Oh, thank God!” He exclaims, peppering kisses all over your face. “I hate not wearing my ring on race weekends.”

#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱#f1 x reader #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fluff #f1 imagine #f1 grid x reader

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elllisaaa · 1 month

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in ur last svt post (which made me fold btw) you mentioned you love doing bf thoughts (and we love reading them!!) so i’m gonna be the one to do it… any dirty bf!wonwoo headcanons sweetie? 🫣

not me dropping two wonwoo asks in one day like i’m not hansol biased i’m gonna run away 🏃‍♀️ he’s so husband material tho (getting back into my svt phase is fun 🙂‍↕️)

lmaoo honestly it's valid being whipped for wonwoo, i am too even though i'm a seokmin and chan girlie (hansol is coming at me these days though...)

BF!WONWOO who's a silent lover, but who loves you so much that everyone can see who smitten by you he is.

another member of seventeen that i think is a very good listener. wonwoo is always ready to listen to you when you need to talk, be that because something funny happened to you or because you had a bad day. and he's also really good at giving you advice when you have a problem. he strikes me as someone who's emotionally smart, so it isn't difficult for him to know that you're sad without you having to tell hims. sometimes he'll notice that you're not doing well and he will prepare you a little snack and deliver it with a kiss and a sweet "i love you, i'm here if you need to talk." that almost makes you tear up from how caring he is. also, wonwoo's hugs must feel incredibly good, like being engulfed in a warm bubble of love that's so soothing you immediately relax in his embrace. you could literally spend your whole life hugging him because it's genuinely the best feeling in the world.

"it's okay darling, i'm here now. everything is going to be alright."

wonwoo would love to play video games with you. it's good if you are already into it, but it would be even better if you don't because he would love to teach you how to play his favourite games. he would even use it as an excuse to make you sit on his lap while he's trying to show you how to play. from there, you would often play together, but it's also not rare for you to simply sit in wonwoo's lap and watch him play, or take a nap there, lulled to sleep by his breathing and heartbeat. one of his favourite ways to spend a date night at home with you is playing board games. you'd pick out one or two games together, make yourself some tea and prepare snacks and then you'll spend your night playing together. the members often joke about how the two of you are like an old couple but you don't care because what matters is that you're having fun during these game nights. also, wonwoo loves to just stay at home with you, all cozy in your matching pajamas and getting to see you all relaxed. he obviously loves it when you're dressing up when the two of you are going out, but you're the most beautiful to him with only a big beautiful smile on your face.

"let's just watch a movie tonight, i don't want to see other people, only you."

he's adamant on reminding you of how beautiful you are every single day. and that's the way he says it that makes you blush - like it's the most natural thing ever and that it's obvious. however, when it's your turn to praise wonwoo, he gets shy and bashful, and you literally have to fight him to get him to accept the compliment. but wonwoo loves your insistence on adoring him and he loves the attention - he's down bad for you, but it's good to know that you're down bad for him as well. he would often take photos of you without you noticing when he thinks you look particularly pretty. he won't show these pictures to you, but he has folder of them on his phone and on his computer too, and he looks at them when he's away from you and that he misses you. wonwoo would put all these secret photos into a pretty album he made and decorated himself, and he would gift it to you for your anniversary. overall, he would gift you a lot of mindful things like these, and you keep all of them in a little box under your bed.

"when did you take this one nonu ?" - "when we went to the botanical garden, you were so pretty that day."

BF!WONWOO who's a service top and who loves to please you, but who can also get a little bit mean when he wants to.

wonwoo definitely loves cockwarming with you. when you sit on his lap while he's playing video games, it's not impossible that he'll end up pushing your panties to the side and slipping his cock inside of you, not moving at all. he just loves the intimacy of it, how much you trust him and relax into his touch immediately. but it's impossible to not get hard when your pussy feels this wet and this warm, nor when you're sometimes clenching around him. wonwoo usually gives up pretty quickly, because he loves the feeling as much as you. most of the time, he would grip your hips and help you drop down on his cock slowly until the both of you cum. but when he's feeling more needy, he would bend you over his desk and fuck you rough from behind until you're screaming his name. but sometimes, you can stay like this for a long time, even managing to fall asleep because it feels so warm and safe to be so close to him. it's the way you feel so comfortable around him that gets him going mostly.

"just sit on my cock for while baby, then i'll fuck you, okay ?"

overall, wonwoo just loves to please you in every way he can. he's inflexible about foreplay because he loves to have you cumming at least once before he fucks you - his girl should get as much orgasms as possible because you only deserve the best. he woul often keep his glasses on while eating you out, because even if it's the most comfortable for him, he knows how crazy you go when he looks up at you through the fogged lenses and how hot you think he is when he has them on. wonwoo prefers positions where he can see your face as he fucks you, so missionary is a must with him. he loves to see your face contort when you're close to the edge, and he loves to watch you as he brings you to your orgasm - your pretty expressions and the sounds you make often enough to trigger his own release. again, he loves how close he can be to you in this position, chest and forehead pressed against each other's, whispering praises and love confessions against your lips while he ruts his hips into you deep.

"you're so pretty darling… so fucking pretty like this."

despite him being very romantic, he also knows how much you like it when he shows you how strong he is. wonwoo would definitely manhandle you into bending over for him if that's what you want - and he's not gonna lie by saying that he doesn't like it when you become all putty in his hands because he's holding your hands firmly behind your back. it's quite good for his ego too to hear you gush about how attractive he is, how hot his strength and his muscles are. wonwoo also uses it to his advantage when you've been a little tease or that he's frustrated. all these hours spent at the gym are worth it when it allows him to hold you down against the mattress while he pounds into you until you're crying out his name and that tears are running down your face. of course, he's always mindful of any signs of discomfort when he's rougher, but you both love it when wonwoo doesn't hold back and ruins you. it feels rewarding to know that he can make his girl scream his name so loud that the neighbors complain the next day.

"i'm not gonna let you go until you're dripping baby, i need to have you again."

#the wonwoo brainrot is real #eli answering your questions #eli's moots #dinna's asks #seventeen x reader #seventeen smut #seventeen hard hours #seventeen hard thoughts #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo smut #wonwoo hard hours #wonwoo hard thoughts #jeon wonwoo

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cordeliawhohung · 9 months

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You created a monster in me with underboss!Simon and now you must take responsibility.

Please feed my new addiction with relationship headcanons 😩😩😩. I love him and Shy!reader.

i've created so many monsters y'all gotta stop biting at my ankles or at least start paying rent or smth <3 also i'm still trying to work out a lot of the dynamics of the relationship between them so this is still a little bare boned but i hope you enjoy!

mafia!141 masterlist <3

warnings: mostly fluff :3 simon is a bit of a prick lol, fem!reader,

just in case anyone missed it, this is how underboss!Simon and shy!Reader meet <3

it takes a brutally long time for the two of you to start dating. a brutally long time.

and it isn't for lack of trying on Simon's end. he manages to get your number somehow (i hear Soap is very tech savvy...) and asks you out the week after the dinner at John's house, only for you to decline.

which is fine. he can take rejection. but this is... different. you're too kind when you say no. you're not saying it because you think you're too good for him, you're saying it because of something else, and Simon can tell the difference but can't exactly tell what it is.

it drives him nuts for a long time. you were supposed to be just another number in his phone for a booty call. he's used to getting pretty much anything he wants, after all, but even then it shouldn't have bugged him as much as it did. maybe it was because he liked the way you looked at him. not with disgust. not with some lustful intention. you were... soft. kind, even.

as for you? you think it's crazy how this 6'4", ripped, and kind guy showed interest in you. you, someone too anxious for her own good, someone who said no because it was less scary than committing to something. and you hate yourself for rejecting him.

so in an effort to stay close to him, you text him pretty often. you send him pictures of things you see or run into during your day. something funny at work, a cool rock you found in someone's garden, the spider that decided to make its home in your shower. and sweetheart, you have no idea what you're doing to the poor man ):

this goes on for a long while. just simon being a stupid man, not wanting to push your boundaries after you already rejected him, and you being too anxious to fix things and ask him yourself.

eventually, by some miracle (that i might write more about later because like i said BARE BONES) the two of you get together. and it's... interesting. simon isn't really used to dating. like properly. he's used to buttering a girl up, going back to her place for a quick fuck, and then only seeing her whenever either of them are too bored and horny to function. but with you it's nothing like that at all. there's no sex on the first date, not even a damn kiss, and he finds himself craving you more than ever because of it. wanting to be around you all the time, wanting to hear about your day.

man is fucking obsessed.

he treats you like a princess. he only ever really spent his money on stupid shit but now he can spend it on you! you never ask for anything, but god forbid if you express that anything, be it clothes or otherwise, looks cute because he will buy it for you, no matter how awkward you are at receiving gifts.

also! because he's so big and somewhat brutish, no one fucks with you when you're in public together. annoying kiosk clerks trying to aggressively sell you something? one look from him and they're gone. someone messed up your order but you're too anxious to ask them to fix it? he's advocating for you.

because of him, you find yourself growing less afraid and anxious of things. he teaches you how to be brave, and you teach him how to be soft. there's nothing in the world that he wouldn't do for you <3

oh also btw he's in the mafia. he might have forgotten to mention that... hope that doesn't freak you out or anything. don't worry about the blood on his shirt or the bruises on his face or the cuts on his arms or... oh god you look like you're going to cry. it's nothing, sweetheart! promise! stop trying to take him to the hospital!

also, some sorta unrelated comments: i think shy!reader is def a hostess at a restaurant. i feel like simon would hang out at the restaurant too just to be around you. he'd also slip you a tip, even though you tell him you make hourly and don't depend on tips.

"consider it my way of saying thanks for sitting us at the table with the best view."

the view is you, btw.

AHHH i'm sorry this was such a mess? i have so many jumbled thoughts but i'm glad i was able to get some of them out and i hope they were somewhat enjoyable al;kdjf i'll be working on a short drabble/oneshot for him over the weekend, so i'm hoping that'll make up for this <3

#mafia!simon #mafia!141 #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #ghost x reader

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luvjunie · 1 year

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Hey sweetie, I’ve been a real big fan. Can you write some HCS or a fic about the both Miles being twins?

a/n: ABSOLUTELY 10000% YES. i had way too much fun with this oml. and omg thank you you’re so sweet! 😭 btw, let’s just pretend that in this au they don’t have the same name since they’re ‘twins’ lmao

— headcanons. miles and miles as twins

Twins? Yes. Polar opposites? Definitely.

They both have a completely different sense of style, but one thing they have in common is that they both love Jordan’s. However I feel like miles!42 is a full blown sneakerhead. Has the better collection and often finds miles!1610 wearing his shoes, because somehow 42 always manages to win the snkrs raffles.

“Are those my brand new fuckin’ 4s?” “Uh… no?” “Take my shit off before I tweak out.”

42 keeps his side of the room squeaky clean, gets upset if there’s even a sock that does not belong to him on his side

Absolutely hates the song Sunflower. Cannot stand it, makes him wanna rip his hair out. The minute it came out 1610 played it into the dirt and 42 swears he can still hear it in his dreams till this day

1610 is the more affectionate one (outwardly) while 42 likes to pretend he’s completely devoid of that as if he doesn’t love his brother with everything in him.

“You got exactly three seconds to get off me.” “Just hug me back, damn!”

They’re the kind of brothers to open soundcloud, turn on a random trap beat and see who can go the longest freestyling. They do that thing where guys bring their fist to their mouths and squeal and shove each other out of excitement when they get a good flow going back and forth

42 is definitely the athletic type, plays football and soccer. 1610 is more in tune with his artistic side. Will play sports for fun but doesn’t care for them like that

42 is introverted as hell, doesn’t really like talking to people. 1610 is more of a social butterfly

They’ve never once liked the same girl. Ever. Their taste is drastically different

“Bro, you like a white girl?” “…Yes? What does her race have to do with anything?” “See me personally—“. “Literally nobody fucking asked.”

Used to help each other break out of their cribs when they were babies. Either that or Jeff and Rio would wake up to find that 42 had climbed into 1610’s crib after they’d been put down and slept with him instead. it was impossible to keep them apart from each other, so eventually they just broke down the second crib and let them use the one.

You can tell who is who in their baby pictures. You guessed it, 42 was the oddly solemn one who always wanted to play by himself. They worried about him for a bit. They also had to tickle him as an attempt to get him to smile in pictures, and just their luck, he’s never been ticklish

When they were eight years old, 1610 accidentally broke the wolverine action figure 42 never went anywhere without, and 42 cried about it for three days straight

They definitely ask for each other’s opinions on their outfits

“Do you think this shirt goes with these pants?” “The entire outfit is black… how would it not go together?”

They both obviously love their mother but 42 is the biggest mama’s boy. Always in the kitchen helping her cook, will watch her telenovelas with her and actually keep up with the plot. He’ll willingly follow her to the grocery store or accompany her on her ridiculously long Ross/Tjmaxx sprees because he likes hanging out with her

They terrorize the fuck outta their dad and have been doing so since they entered this world because they think it’s funny. Stupid shit like dying his boxers pink, or looking up a cracked tv screen video on youtube just to watch him nearly have a heart attack thinking they broke it. They used to twin-swap when they were younger to get out of certain things, but it’s 100% impossible to pull off now. They’re way too different, physically and mentally

Uncle Aaron took 42 to get his ears pierced when he was thirteen, something 1610 would never do. Rio basically had an aneurysm when he came home with them in and Jeff was not pleased but Aaron took the blame for it, said it was his idea. 42 made up some bullshit lie about how if he takes them out before they heal completely they’ll get infected. Still has them in till this day

42 is exactly fourteen minutes older and refuses to let 1610 hear the end of it, but 1610 is taller by an inch and weighs a little more.

“I don’t know why you’re talking shit like I’m not older than you. Pipe down lil’ bro.” “Sorry, is someone talking to me right now? Cause I sure as hell can’t see ‘em.” “Nigga it’s ONE INCH”

They’re definitely scrapping over that, and both get smacked upside their heads by Mama Rio for fighting with each other

42 needs the tv and the fan on, SIMULTANEOUSLY when he sleeps or he’ll be up the entire night. 1610 can’t stand it

1610 will try and turn the fan off after his brother’s been asleep for probably two hours, thinking he’s in the clear until he hears—

“Do you value your life? Turn my damn fan back on.”

Deep down 42 is a big ass softie and loves spending time with 1610, he has no idea what he’d do without him. He’s just not the best at expressing it. 1610 teases him about it simply because he enjoys aggravating his other half

“You still got plans with Ganke tonight?” “Nah, his mom’s dragging him to some baby shower.” “Oh, cool, cool… So what movie are we watching?” “Huh?” “Huh—Headass. What movie are we watching tonight?” “Sorry, I’m not understanding. Are you—asking to spend time… with me?” “Damn, I need to say it in Spanish? Matter fact, you probably won’t understand that either. No sabo ass.”

#junie’s works ᥫ᭡#across the spiderverse fanfiction #miles morales #earth 42 miles morales #miles morales prowler #miles morales fanfiction #miles morales headcanons #across the spiderverse headcanons #spiderman astv

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7brownsuga7 · 7 months

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Can you please write dumb/cute/random things BTS members will do while they are crushing on reader?

Sorry this took me 10000 years <3 but here we go :)

NAMJOON:

He’ll be in his head a lot, zoning out, thinking about you constantly. I see him walking through parks trying to clear his head from thoughts of you.

I also see him writing songs or poems about you. This crush definitely helps motivate him!

He’ll purposefully listen to songs or read books/poems that remind you of him

He will listen to songs and make up scenarios in his head

Lmfao he’ll like randomly blush or chuckle when he thinks about you doing something cute.

Jealous

Will send you recommendations like books, songs, shows etc. And will get into anything you’re into

Giggles a lot

Becomes quite shy from time to time

Constantly checking his phone to see if you messaged, and whether you do or not will affect his mood

JIN:

He’s awkward as hell and will make stupid (still funny ofc) jokes to try and mask the awkwardness

He will try to be as casual as possible

In his head a lot. And overthinks every little thing he says. Will often be embarrassed by it

I can see him coming up with things to say (jokes too) for the next time he’s around you

Will constantly turn red every time he’s around you and will get defensive when you notice

He will come up with random excuses to see you.

He’s constantly bringing you up in conversations and will get defensive when someone mentions it

I can see him talking to himself about you. He’s stressed and will express that out loud to himself when he’s alone.

YOONGI:

To be honest I don’t see the crush lasting long because he’ll be direct and confess quite soon after he figures out his feelings

He will lowkey get into anything you like. Like if you mentioned a show you watch he’s gonna definitely check it out. Oh you said you like this snack? Yh he’s gonna try that too

Will find ways to distract himself, more so with his work

This crush makes him feel uncomfortable. He gets butterflies which he isn’t used to and he is all of a sudden shy around you. He hates it

Finds himself fidgeting whilst around you

Jealous

Zoning out and in his head a lot.

Constantly checking his phone to see if you messaged. And he hates it. He scolds himself when he catches himself doing it. And will then try to distract himself with his work.

HOBI:

Very nervous and giggly around you

He’s taking this to his grave btw. He’s not telling you about his crush unless you figure it out yourself

He’ll point out things that remind him of you. “Ah y/n loves that”

Constantly asking about you

Will have his cameraroll filled with random pictures/ videos of you

He will insist on getting his nails done to match yours

Will steal glances at you and then get embarrassed about it

He’s bringing you up in every conversation. Sometimes he doesn’t even realise it

He will ask for your opinion a lot

He will pick up on the little things you do and will mimick you. Most of the time mindlessly but also to make fun of you

JIMIN:

Finds stupid excuses to touch you

Again he’s in his head a LOT! He can’t stop thinking about you

He will pick up on the little things you do and will mimic you. He does this to tease you.

He has a habit of staring at your lips when you’re talking to him

Jealous and he hates the feeling. You’re driving him crazy!

I feel like he will try to make you jealous now and then. But will soon realise that what he’s doing is stupid

Will take random candid pics of you

Catches himself staring at you a lot and will then get shy and blush about it

He will ask for your opinion about most things

Fidgeting when you’re around

TAEHYUNG:

Will 100% talk to yeontan about you. Like I can see him laying in bed stoking yeontan while rambling about you and sighing LFMAOO

He will completely show how he feels. 100% forward and bold. Y’all might as well be together because he’s already acting like your man

He’ll be very clingy and needy.

JEALOUS. He will probably throw up and faint if he sees you talking to someone else

Stalking your socials & 100% has no shame about it

Texts/facetimes/calls you constantly. Not to the point where it’s overbearing but whenever he’s free he will reach you.

He has a habit of biting his lower lip when he’s around you

JUNGKOOK:

This crush is taking over his life. He’s obsessed and is constantly thinking about you. It’s driving him crazy.

Biggest simp

Will occasionally rub his stomach because he feels butterflies when he thinks about you

Yeah he’s stalking your socials too. He’s going to overanalyse everything and find himself in a routine of constantly checking

Already treating it as a relationship lfmao. He knows he likes you and now can’t help but to treat you like you’re already together. Call it delusional, he calls it manifesting.

Will talk to Bam about you. Will literally let out everything he’s feeling to Bam while stropping about the situation and stroking him lfmao

Has made a playlist with every song you’ve mentioned, posted, listened to, and will add songs that remind him of you.

Constantly checking his phone to see if you messaged, and will overthink if you don’t. Will bite his lip as he thinks if he should text you first. He will then get all excited when you eventually text him.

He will pick up on the little things you do and will mimic you. He will do this mindlessly

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live-laugh-legolas · 20 days

Note

I really love your headcannons! Thanks for them! what do you think it's like to cuddle with a fellowship and how tactile they are in general, I would be grateful if it was in a romantic way, but if it's not difficult (if possible, then Gandalf should be too)

Cuddling with the fellowship

Aragorn:

-He often has his hands on you in some way

-Either in your shoulder, waist, back, or holding your hand

-But he isn’t the biggest cuddler despite being a touchy guy

-I think he worries he won’t be able to get up fast enough to protect you

-However he does sleep best when you are wrapped up in his arms

-He likes to lay his head in your lap

-Or with your head on his chest

-He subconsciously gives little massages while cuddling

-Does the thumb rub thing

Legolas:

-Once he figures out cuddling and physical affection he will always initiate it

-He will always come up and hug you from behind

-He finds comfort in it that he didn’t expect since elves aren’t really physically affectionate

-He likes to be big spoon and will hold your hand while you are wrapped safely in his arms

-He burrows his face into your hair or between your shoulder blades

-Sometimes he so close that he snores because his nose is pressed against your back (listen Ik elves don’t really sleep or whatever but let me have this)

-He will give you top of the head kisses randomly while you lay on his chest

-Just in general he does this; walking past you, you get a head kiss

-Pippin asks for one too; he says he feels left out

Gimli:

-Big time cuddler

-Dwarves are pretty big on physical touch

-Maybe cuddling isn’t necessary seen as platonic to dwarves; but wanting to be close in general can be

-However with a significant other this man is the biggest teddy bear

-He likes to face you when cuddling so he can see your pretty face

-Your very own personal heater/fur blanket

-Side note but maybe this is why Legolas likes him so much. I mean Legolas is kinda cat like and cats gravitate towards the warmest people to lay on

-Anyway

-He gets “grumpy” if you won’t cuddle with him

-Will pout until you give in despite being absolutely covered in dirt and you wanted to shower first

Boromir:

-He’s a little awkward about physical touch at first

-He’s a bit touch starved

-I can’t help but picture him as Arthur from the show Merlin in this scene

-It’s not so much that he doesn’t understand gentle physical touch; he is a gentle man; but he doesn’t experience it much so it’s a little foreign to him

-But once he is comfortable with you he will branch out and try initiating cuddles

-Will copy the way you initiate cuddles or any physical touch

-This man is lovely to cuddle btw

-You always feel very safe with him and he makes for a good pillow

-I headcanon that he has great tits; perfect chest to bury your face in

-He also talks a lot while cuddling; like he is just so happy to be with you that his giddiness comes out in random rambles

Frodo:

-He’s a nuzzler

-He does the little head rub on whatever he is using as a pillow when he first settles down

-Kinda like a dog spinning in circles before laying down

-If you fall asleep cuddled up just know that you will not wake up that way

-Someone is on the floor or you’ve swapped sides of the bed

-It looks like you guys were catapulted into the bed and that’s just how you landed

-Nose kisses

Sam:

-He loves to have “cuddle talks”

-Telling you about his day while you fiddle with his hair

-He’s a very intimate cuddler; likes to look into your eyes and profess his love as if it’s the first time even though he just did it yesterday too

-Not big on PDA though

-Cuddles are personal and private

-He’s not embarrassed or anything; it just feels like something too intimate for public eyes

Merry:

-He likes cuddling but in moderation

-I imagine he could get a bit claustrophobic

-Not that he doesn’t enjoy your cuddles; he just gets overwhelmed with smothering ones sometimes

-Doesn’t like being little spoon for this reason (same tho)

-I think one of his favorite positions to cuddle is with one of you sitting with your back against the others chest

-He does not care if he can’t see past you, he’s your backrest and he takes that job very seriously

Pippin:

-The biggest cuddle bug

-He is always touching someone; bumping shoulders, invading personal space, etc

-He finds comfort in being close to others and he’s not afraid to let it be known

-Spontaneous cuddle attacks

-Lots of giggles and nose boops

-If you are in bed he will “Dutch oven” you

-Gross ik

-However when his energy is worn for the day and he has gotten his playful cuddles out of the way he is the perfect teddy bear

-I mean seriously hobbits are the perfect little spoon size

-In those moments he does just enjoy the quiet and listening to your breathing as you fall asleep

Gandalf:

-Not big on cuddling

-More of the type to sit/lay where you are touching in some way but not engulfed with each other

-Maybe sitting across from eachother with your legs intertwined

-He does give the best hugs though

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leonstoenailunderhisbed · 5 months

Text

American Psycho Killer: The Sequel

Summary: After Leon perfectly got away with murder and finally got the chance to be with the girl who lived just down the hall, he hasn't noticed that she, too, was just like him.

Warning: stalking, murdering, mentions of planned murder, death, smut, creampie, yan!leon, not proofread lol, fem reader, psychopathic, yan!reader, stalking, masturbating (female), dry humping, this might be my nastiest work yet

A/N: RAHHH GUESS WHO PASSED HER PSYCHOLOGY FINAL- ME!!!! im a certified psychologist now (this is joke btw)

[part one]

“I got you under my skin” - Mirotic, TVXQ!

People always seem to forget that not all psychopaths are the same. Sure, most share the same goal. But not every psychopath is the same. According to Kurt Scheinder, there are different personality types within the psychopathic community.

Leon's an affectionless psychopath; he's cold, antisocial, manipulative, and very assertive. He's a perfect murderer who kills anyone who dares to touch or hurt you. But he won't show or tell you how concerned he is for you. He doesn't feel love. No, it's quite different.

Psychopaths can fall in love with other people, but it's not the same. Leon's emotions are shallow and empty. But he still wants you to be his. He's possessive over you, he wants you in a sense that he can't even explain it himself.

But what he doesn't know is that you were also in the same percentage of psychopaths. You aren't affectionless, you're an obsessive psychopath. Obsessive psychopaths are people who are extremely possessive and become obsessed with people. These types of people often act on their jealousy and sexual fantasies. What he didn’t know was that you were deep down the trenches for him.

After having sex with the man, he cleaned you up and left your apartment room. It was late and he had work tomorrow, like every day. You felt conflicted, in a way, you had sex with your neighbor on the day of your ex's funeral. If you believed in God, you were sure he would send you straight to hell. But you didn't care. Leon made you feel things you hadn't felt before.

You found yourself thinking about him and the way he filled you up. Luck was with you the next morning when you bought the last morning-after pill. The woman behind you glaring at you as you shamelessly grinned at her. You didn't care, why should you? You didn't want to get knocked up, as much as you'd love the idea of carrying Leon's child, you barely knew the man.

But that didn't stop you from taking his pictures every time he walked by. Your phone angled slightly as you took pictures of him when you two were in the elevator, or when you'd see him from your window as he walked away from his car. You'd watch him like a hawk watching the fish in the river, waiting for the perfect moment to claw deep into its fins and carry it to its nest.

Was this illegal? Probably but then again, most things were illegal in such a fucked up and greedy country. You cheated the system; too smart for them as you found loopholes around the terribly written constitution. You knew you could get away with anything if you played your cards right- a gamble.

Being a psychopath isn't praised in society, people hate such disconnected individuals but being a psychopath yourself, you actually blended in. No one would question your obsessive and stalking habits. No one would even guess that the sweet girl from the apartment building had a wall full of candid photos of the blonde agent.

You stood back as you marveled at the sights. Hundreds of photos plastered on the beige wall, all from different angles and days. Some you took when he had his morning jog, some were when you stayed up all night waiting for him to come home. Something about the way he looked when he was exhausted just turned you on. The wall was right in front of your bed. Every night, when you'd go to sleep, you would stare at the pictures and get all excited about your perverted fantasies.

As you stared at the wall with the photos, your hands slipped down your pajama shorts. Fingers rubbing against the lacey panties you wore. It was perverted but a part of you took pleasure in the way the countless pictures stared at you as you rubbed your clothed clit. Back arching as you bit your bottom lip, trying not to be too loud for the neighbors to hear.

It wasn't enough. You needed more.

Poor pillow, you thought as you took a long pillow from behind you. You sat up and straddled the pillow as you faced the Leon wall. The picures staring right back you as you rocked your hips against the comforting material. Wetness pooling in your panties, making them stick to your needy cunt as you humped the pillow, pretending it was him. The wetness seeped through your pajama shorts, feeling the cold slick collect as you rocked your hips. If anyone were to see you, you'd be embarrassed. Going off on the pictures of your neighbor as you rode the pillow pretending it was his cock. Your clit rubbed against the lace material of your panty, your folds gliding with ease as every hump. God, you felt like a teenage girl when she first discovers what Wattpad is.

Moans collected in your throat, daring to escape as you shut your eyes tightly closed. Bliss overtaking you as you grinded against your pillow harder and faster, like a dog in heat. Your hands squeezed tightly around the soft fabric of what you pretended would be Leon's shoulders- maybe neck if you wanted to feel more dominant. The pillow slowly began to get stained with your slick as you neared your orgasm, the way your panty roughly grinded against your cunt and clit set you aflame. It was all so wet and arousing; it got your back arching as you could just picture his cock thrusting up into your womb, sliding through your tight gummy walls as he would grip your hips and bounce you on his leaking cock. Even the thought of him made you cum faster. Feeling the way his muscles would feel and flex as you drove him to the edge from your riding, the way his sweat smelled as if it was an aphrodisiac. Addicting. He made you an addict.

Cumming hard on the pillow, your thighs trembled and your moans escaped your lips. As you rode through your high, you couldn't help but feel conflicted once again. This was psychotic behavior but who was here to judge you? Exactly, no one. Not even Leon's pictures who were staring directly at you. With a quiet sigh, you got off the pillow and began to clear the mess you left. All while you kept thinking about him.

The landlord of your apartment building was a strange man. Supportive, but strange. He had a basement in which he'd host events about anything. He believed he was some sort of Messiah that was sent by God to help cure the people of whatever was pestering them. Today was no different; you found yourself sitting in one of the chairs in the basement along with the other tenants. Leon was there too. Sitting on the other side of the basement with his arms crossed over his chest as he sat far away.

"Thank you all for coming, today I want to talk about a few things. Like grief. We know that the death of a recent tenant has been...difficult to overcome," the landlord began- referring to the guy that died from the fire. They never caught Leon, so no one suspected a thing, not even you.

"The fire department has told me that I should revise a fire drill in case something like this happens again," the landlord's voice was soft and you could swear he was high. Or maybe he wasn't and that was just the way he talked, either way, it made you want to fall asleep.

"Just so we're clear- there is a fire exit only on the right side of the building. The door to the stairs will only open once the smoke detectors have detected a fire. Do not, and i can't stress this enough, do not pry it open. Those things cost a fortune and I'd hate to have to increase everyone's rent." Everyone grumbled at the thought of paying more for some idiot's actions. Leon, however, just remained silent and observed. You couldn't help but steal glances at him, just admiring the way his brows were pinched together as his lips were a straight line.

For a white man, he looked very attractive. You'd let this white man colonize you.

And then his eyes landed on you. Those piercing blue eyes that were hard to read found your own, and he held eye contact. Daring you to look away, to which you couldn't. You were too enthralled, as if he threw a spell at you. Not like you'd mind, of course, but this man was intimidatingly attractive.

You had to pull your eyes away from the intense eye contact as the landlord kept talking. From your peripheral vision, you could see how a woman approached Leon and sat down next to him.

At first, you didn’t think too much of it. You thought but not too much. Until her laughter made its way to your ears. Her laugh was as if nails were scratching on the board of some classroom. You hated it. It drove you insane.

Her laughter could be heard- it was fake and forced, it had to be. No one laughed like that. She had to be flirting with Leon and it only made you feel rage and jealousy. God, you needed to calm down. Or maybe you needed to kill her. His expression wasn't different. He was simply just staring at her. How you wished that was you sitting on his cock as you memorized his face. As you counted the blackheads he had on his nose, as your eyes traced the wrinkles and acne scars. You wanted to memorize his entire being.

Kill her? The thought never appeared in your head but who were you to argue against your thoughts. You trusted yourself.

Once the landlord had stopped talking, you were the first one to dash out of the basement. Not without looking at how the woman basically threw herself him. Her breasts pressing against his chest. His face was unreadable, just coldly staring at her as she tried to seduce him. It made your blood boil. How dare she do that to your man? She needed to learn her lesson.

The next few days, you've been studying. Not because you had exams, no, you studied for other reasons. You studied the human anatomy as well as some chemistry.

One night, around 3AM, you came back from the library you were in. Just freshly studied, you had many ideas on how to kill her. A part of you, the good part, thought that this was immoral and terrible. But the other part told you that no one, absolutely no one, dares to flirt with your man. He's not even your man officially but he might as well be for all the times you masturbated in front of his pictures.

When you were on campus, you "borrowed" some tools. Of course, you were going to be nice and return them to the STEM building before they even charge you for overusing their supplies.

Being an obsessive and jealous psychopath, you're bound to be reckless and impulsive. But not this time. This time, you were going to be calculated. You had a plan orchestrated for her murder.

You made your way to the security room where the security cameras screened the halls of the apartment complex. As you lock picked the door, you entered quietly. Your footsteps softly thudding against the carpeted floor. The room had about 8 or 9 TV screens that showed different angles of the different floors. On one of them, you noticed Leon walking through the parking lot. He must've come back from work; he usually does at this time.

Hacking the security cameras weren't easy. You desperately wanted to just smash the entire setup, but you knew that would only make you more suspicious. You needed to control your temper. Plus, you wouldn't do that to your landlord. He's a cheap guy and would rather not pay from his pocket, he'd probably increase the rent to pay for the damages you could cause.

After some minutes, the screens all turned static, giving you the sign to proceed with your plan.

You stepped out of the room, closing the door on your way out. Leaving it exactly how you found it.

You climbed the stairs to where your floor was since she lived just a few doors away from you. She moved into the dead guy's apartment; you thought it was dumb. Why would you live in a place where someone just recently died? That's bad luck because now she was going to die because of you.

Once again, you lock picked the door to her apartment and looked around to make sure no one had seen you. You knew Leon just came back from work, so you needed to be quick as to not let him see you like this.

You entered her apartment swiftly and silently, closing the door behind you with a soft click. The apartment was dark and silent, except for the soft snores coming from just down the hall. Where her room was.

Your footsteps were soft and quiet as you made your way towards her. And there she was, sleeping peacefully on her stomach. All sprawled out on her bed as her hair covered her face.

Quietly making your way towards her bed, you kneeled down beside her and took out a small liquid bottle.

Potassium chloride (KCI), it read.

You didn't know a thing about chemicals and what they do, but to be honest, you didn't care. All you knew was that this stuff could be lethal. And that's exactly what you wanted.

Taking out a syringe from your pocket, you punctured the top of the bottle and pumped some of the liquid into the tube of the syringe, making sure it went past the middle line imprinted on the plastic container.

For once, you were glad to have access to the labs in the STEM building. The things you could do... but that was a thought for another time. Right now, you had a job to do.

Finding a vein on her neck was easier than you thought, based on the way she was sleeping, her neck tensed, and a vein was popping out of the side of her neck. The blue line traveling down her skin.

As you aligned the needle on her vein, you pushed without remorse. The needle penetrated her skin as you injected her with the dose of KCI. You watched in awe as the liquid entered her system. A dose enough it would cause cardiac arrest, instant death even.

You decided to leave her bed as she slowly succumbed to her death. You stuffed your materials back in your pockets as you stood up. What you failed to notice was the pair of footsteps nearing the bedroom. As you turned towards the door, you immediately noticed the figure lingering in the doorframe.

Leon.

Leon watched you kill that woman. He saw it all happen right before his eyes. But his expression was still cold and unreadable. He stepped towards you and stood in front of you, staring down at you.

'Hm," he spoke quietly, "well, this isn't something I was expecting," he muttered.

You didn't know what to say as you stared up at him. He knows what you just did but you don't feel regret.

After a short moment of silence, he spoke again, "I was going to kill her."

Your eyes widened at the confession; he was going to kill her?

"Why?" you asked quietly. The ends of his lips tugged into a faint smirk as he watched your expression, "Because she was annoying you."

You were stunned once again. He was going to kill her because he knew she had annoyed you? He really was the perfect man.

"Now," he stepped closer to you, leaning down until you could his breath on your face, "Why did you kill her?"

It would be embarrassing to tell him that the only reason why you killed the woman was because you were jealous.

As you nibbled on your bottom lip, you tried to come up with an excuse, "Like you said... she was annoying me."

Leon wasn't dumb, he knew you were lying. He brought his hands to brush away your hair away from your shoulders, "Don't lie to me," he muttered as he twirled a strand of hair in between his fingers.

"Fine," you muttered back, "I was... jealous." You felt embarrassment shot right up through your body as you told Leon the truth.

His smirk widened slightly as he let go of your hair, "You were jealous? Why? Because she was all up at me?"

You nodded, "Yeah... i didn't like how she tried to flirt with you."

He looked at you and then back at the woman laying on the bed, "I'm impressed."

That comment was sent straight to your core, wetting your panties. It was almost pathetic, how much power he had over you. If you weren't in this woman's room, you'd totally straddle him and ride his cock like how you rode the pillow.

As he turned to look back at you, he noticed your concentrated expression. His brow raised slightly at the sudden profound silence coming from you. But he didn't mind, you were still standing there in front of him and that was enough for Leon's shallow heart.

"Leave," he muttered as he looked at you. This caused you to pinch your brows together. Why would he want you to leave?

"Go back to your apartment, I'll clean the evidence for you."

Your mouth fell apart after he said that. He was willing on cleaning up your mess. But you were sure not to leave a trace behind... not really. You weren't wearing any gloves. You mentally slapped yourself for the small mistake.

"I'll meet you when I'm done," and with that he got to work. He walked around with disinfectant wipes and alcohol as he made sure to clean everything you had touched.

As he did that, you walked out of her apartment and went over to yours. A lot of thought scurried through your mind; thoughts like: why is he helping you?

A part of you felt guilty for killing someone but the other part of you didn’t. The id and the ego. A constant battle between what’s wrong and what’s right.

You did think she deserved it. But at the same time, you and Leon had sex. That must’ve mean something, right? Does he like you? Does he want to have sex again?

A part of being a psychopath that not many people know is that they are one of the most hypersexual people ever to exist. One single thought about him and it gets sent straight to your pussy. It’s not necessarily bad, you just have a lot of needs.

Part of you couldn’t wait for him to finish cleaning up and come to you. But a part of you also didn’t want him to see the amount of pictures you had of him on your wall.

As you walked to your apartment, you settled yourself in your bed, staring straight at the Leon wall.

What would he think of you if he saw this?

Would he be creeped out?

Insecurity ran through your body as you thought about it. Overthinking the possibilities of him reacting to just how obsessed you were with him.

You quickly got up and began to try and take off the photos of him on your wall.

However, just as you pulled a few of the hundred photos, you heard the noise of someone clearing their throat. Your head slowly turned towards the sound and your face fell pale.

It was Leon.

“Are those pictures of me?” He asked as he stepped towards your room. Standing closely next to you as he stared at the wall. His eyes scanned each and every one of the pictures. Almost as if he was impressed more than disrtubed.

But he didn't look disturbed. He had a small smirk on his lips that flipped your guts inside out. What exactly was he thinking?

"Yeah... they are," you murmured under your breath as you looked back at the pictures.

"You keep surprising me today," he muttered and turned his head to look at you with that stupid smirk. The smirk that made you feel so many things at once, "I never took you for... a stalker."

Your cheeks flushed red from embarrassment, and you quickly looked at him, "I-I well-" You didn't know what to say. What could you possibly say without looking even more demented.

"I like it," he whispered and stepped closer to you. His expression still remained distant but there was something in his eyes. A dangerous glint of possession.

You turned your body to look at him, staring up at his eyes. Something was starting to form in the air, and it was dangerous. As if gasoline was being poured into a barrel of fire.

Without notice, he harshly pulled you to him by putting a hand on the back of your head. His lips crashed into yours as his other hand snaked around your waist and he forcefully pulled you close to his body.

His kiss was dominating and harsh. As if he was hungry for you. Your hands gripped around his shirt. Your knees felt weak, and you started to grow dizzy from the lack of oxygen.

He was kissing you like no tomorrow. He bit your bottom lip hard, causing you to gasp. His tongue delved inside and wrapped around your tongue- dancing a battle of dominance that you lost long ago.

His hand went down from your waist to grip your ass cheek, giving it a tight and firm squeeze. He pulled back and pushed onto the bed.

"Strip," he demanded in a low voice. You quickly obliged and began to take off your clothes. His gaze was penetrating you, watching you like an eagle as you got naked under his command. It filled his veins with pure adrenaline, and he wanted nothing more than to claim you.

He saw that you were obsessed with him, and he was finally able to show you just how obsessed he was with you too.

He took off his clothes as well and climbed on top of you and began to kiss you again. His lips hungrily crashed into yours as his hands traveled around your body, squeezing the fat of your hips and squeezing the curve of your waist.

His lips trailed down to your neck, abusing the skin purple and red as you whimpered and moaned for him. His touch was electrifying, and you were going off on it. One of his hands trailed down to your wet cunt as he kept sucking your neck. He chuckled lowly as he felt how wet you'd become in just the matter of two minutes.

"Already so wet for me," he sucked the skin around your collarbone as his fingers faintly hovered over your cunt.

"I bet you imagined this moment, huh? Me fucking you in front of all these pictures you took of me," he grumbled as he inserted his index finger without warning, causing you to gasp and rolled your head back. Eye tightly shut as he curled his index finger in you.

He was going ruthless on you. He inserted another finger in you, scissoring you with speed as he watched your eyes roll back. Your walls pulsated around his fingers, and he could feel his cock getting hard against your thigh. He could feel you getting closer to your orgasm and that only drove him to reach deeper inside with his fingers until his knuckles were buried deep.

He smirked as he saw the way you arched your back and moaned for him. His obsession for you only grew as he heard the lewd noises come from your mouth. Your chest heaved up and down as you tried to not be too loud for your neighbors to send a noise complaint.

But he abruptly pulled his fingers out of you, denying you of your release. You whined and looked at him through half-lidded eyes, "Why... why did you stop?" you breathed out. And all he did was chuckle lowly at your reaction.

He was cruel but he loved it. He loved driving you close to the edge and then pull you back into reality.

“Turn over,” was all that he said. You got on your stomach and he gripped his hands around your hips and lifted your ass a little higher.

His hands went around your ass and back before giving you a slap on your ass cheek, causing you yelp. It stung but it felt good.

One of his hands left your hips as he pumped his cock with his precum and aligned himself with your entrance.

He buried his cock deep into your cunt, gripping your waist as he pulled you closer to him, forcing you to take his size. You whimpered as you shut your eyes tightly. He slowly began to move his hips against you from behind, trying to find a rhythm that would be pleasurable for the two of you.

Your face was planted flat on a pillow as he fucked you. Your mouth was open, muffled moans echoing through the room. The sound of his balls smacking against your clit making this look and sound so pornographic.

He could feel your walls tighten every time his balls clashed your clit, “You’re so fucking tight,” he grunted. You couldn’t reply, too preoccupied getting your brains fucked out by him.

His speed only increased as he became selfish and obsessive. He wanted to claim you, to make you his. It was psychotic but he needed it. He desperately needed you in his life, even if he’s fucked up in the head.

But you’re also a bit screwed up. What type of person stalks a man and kills for him? You, apparently.

You both have killed for each other. You both were obsessed with each other. One wouldn’t know if it was concerning or cute. Either way, you loved him and he loved you.

“I’m gonna breed you,” he grunted again as he pulled out and pushed back in brutally. His strength like no other, his muscles flexing and tensing.

His dirty words didn’t help either, they were driving you closer and closer to your orgasm. Your pussy clenched so tightly against his cock, wanting to milk him of his seed and force you to bear his children.

“Gonna fill you up- fuck- and make you mine,” he moaned softly in your ear as his hand left your waist and went down to your clit. Circling it and pinching it in between his fingers.

You mewled and moaned, drool dripping down from your mouth as you saw stars. He made you feel so good and you only wanted more.

His cock disappeared into your cunt with every thrust and he ogled at the sight. He loved the way you took him, he loved the way you looked so fucked out of your mind all because of him.

He made you feel this way. And he wanted more.

“You’re staying with me,” he groaned into your ear, “You’ll be mine whether you like it or not- fuck I’m gonna cum,” he grunted and kept thrusting into you. He kept pounding into you.

Every time he thrusted into you, he saw the way your ass jiggled and it only made his cock twitch and throb inside you. He shot his cum deep inside you but he didn’t stop.

He continued to toy with your clit as he kept pounding his half hard cock- which soon got hard again from seeing your face and hearing the way you moaned when he came inside you.

“Leon,” you moaned out lewdly as you neared your orgasm. It surprised you he came first but you didn’t complain, it only drove you closer to cumming.

“Cum for me,” he demanded in a growl. Your pussy spasmed around his cock and you came on his cock.

You arched your back as you came, feeling his deeper into your cunt as he continued to fuck you through your high.

And. He. Didn’t. Stop.

He wanted to cum in you again, he promised he’d fill you up and he never breaks his promises.

“Gonna cum again, sweetheart,” he moaned into your ear as his hand left your clit and went back to your waist.

“This pussy’s mine,” he grunted as he gripped your waist and pulled you on his cock, watching as your mouth hanged open, spilling moans and whimpers from overstimulation.

“You’re fucking mine, sweetheart,” he grunted one last time before ramming his hips into you and cumming inside you once more. His warm cum overfilling your cunt, cum oozing out as new cum entered your body.

He remained inside you as you both caught your breath. He couldn’t believe he’d cum twice but then again, you really did keep surprising him today.

And that’s what he liked about you. You were so unexpected and that only drove him crazy for you.

And you were crazy for him too.

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon scott kennedy #resident evil #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon smut #re leon #resident evil leon #leon #leon kennedy smut #re4 leon #yandere!leon kennedy x reader #re4r leon

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bobgasm · 9 months

Text

the snappening | b.f

pairing: robert “bob” floyd x f!reader word count: 1723 warnings: smut, nsfw [18+ only], praise kink, superior/insubordinate, use of sex toys, dirty talk, masturbating on video, mutual masturbation, begging, very minimal background information [for me]

summary: in which you send a snapchat to the wrong person…

author’s note: there’s absolutely no excuse for this. enjoy

oneshot | masterlist | ao3

With another week of training finished, you went out to celebrate with a few of the other pilots in your squad. You knew that if you drank with Luke, one of the junior aviator’s, you’d wind up in his bed again, so you did everything in your power to avoid that. At least, you tried your best.

Luke was cute, and after you’d arrived home from your latest mission, you’d gone out a few times. Each time had ended up with you in his bed, but it was definitely a more casual arrangement. He was there to scratch your itch, and you were there to scratch his. A mutually beneficial itch-scratching situation.

He knew you were interested in someone else, but he was always down to get down. He didn’t care that you were using him, because at the end of the day, he had you in his bed. Not the other guy.

But after your week of working alongside Bob a lot more than you were used to, the crush had grown. You didn’t want to sleep around with Luke anymore, you wanted a way to get Bob to see you in a different light.

It didn’t help that his Snapchat came up under the recommended friends and that every time you drank you thought of finally hitting the ‘add’ button next to his name. You didn’t even know if he used it all that often, but you were curious and your curiosity certainly got the best of you. Your drunk thumb tapping the ‘add’ button without a second thought, quickly tucking your phone into your pocket to avoid seeing if he accepted it or not.

Luke brought you another drink and you thanked him. You’d tried to avoid him all night, but he kept drifting towards you. You had to be more clear and tell him it wasn’t happening tonight, but you hated having these kinds of conversations.

“You wanna get out of here after this drink?” He asked you.

Yeah, he was cute with his hazel eyes and messy hair, but he had nothing on Bob. It wasn’t fair to keep using Luke like this, even if he was okay with it.

“Not tonight,” you told him truthfully. “I don’t think this is a good idea anymore.”

He nodded slowly, taking your words in. “It was good while it lasted, right?”

“Yeah,” you agreed. “I’ll see you around, Luke.”

With the drink Luke gave you, you headed off to the bar. Quickly swallowing the contents before booking an Uber to take you home. It had been a long week and you were ready to crawl into bed before having to do it all again next week.

The notification came in while you were waiting for your Uber that Bob had accepted your request. Your eyes almost bugged out of your head as the notification bar said he was typing.

well this is a surprise

sorry, i’m drunk. Ucan ignore me

I didn’t say it was a bad thing

Your thumbs hovered over the keyboard as the chat bubble appeared that he was typing again.

I'm drunk too

why aren’t we drunk together?

you didn’t invite me so I went to Jake’s

The next thing you knew, he’d sent you a picture of Hangman and Rooster passed out on pool loungers outside and Bob giving you a thumbs up. You laughed and sent a blurry picture of you smiling back with the caption “waiting for my uber.”

good girl getting an uber

fucku for calling me good girl

but you are…

You groaned as Uber notified you that your driver was here. You quickly made your way outside, forgetting all about the last message Bob had sent you. Until he sent another one while you were climbing in the car.

probably a good thing we aren’t drunk together

why’s that? x

you know damn well why

I’m afraid Idon’t… I’m a visual learner btw ;)x

ur killin me x

You didn’t realise you had stopped at your apartment complex until the driver announced your arrival. You quickly rated and tipped him before scrambling out of the car and entering your building. Glancing at your chat thread with Bob in the elevator and trying to think of something to reply.

uthink it’s any easier for me?

The chat sat unopened as you unlocked your apartment and closed your curtains before turning the light on in your bathroom. Quickly changing into your pj’s before sliding into bed and checking for a response. Groaning when there was nothing.

Maybe you should’ve let Luke take you home instead?

You’re touching yourself before you know it, running your hands over your chest. Skimming under your shirt and teasing your nipples. Hips rolling at the sensation before slipping a finger under the waistband of your shorts and pressing it to your clit.

“Fuck,” you moaned out.

The idea was in your head long before you realised you were actually filming yourself. In your haze you assumed you’d double-tapped on Luke’s name. The screen shone as you moaned again, closing your eyes as your fingers delved into your heat.

“I need you,” you moaned. “Fuck, I’m so wet. I need your mouth…your tongue against my clit. Two fingers in my cunt and five around my neck. Please,”

Blindly, you sent the video. Curling two fingers inside you that didn’t quite reach deep enough to have your body shaking.

You looked at the screen as the notification came through from Snapchat. The notification that Bob had replayed the video.

Fuck.

You groaned at your own idiocy and shot up in bed, ready to apologise and beg him to forget he’d seen it. That it wasn’t meant for him, but that admission alone felt sour against your tongue. It felt wrong, because he was the one you were fantasizing about. Bob was the one you actually wanted to touch you.

Not Luke.

You stared in horror at the thread you had with Bob saying that he’d sent an audio message. Part of you was curious to see if he was mad or…excited.

You bit your lip as you opened the chat. Turning your volume up so you could hear it before pressing play.

“Jesus, fuck,” he groaned. “So fuckin’ filthy…so fuckin’ needy. You gonna cum fantasizing about me, baby? Hm? Fuck, I’m so hard just thinking about you cumming while thinking of me.”

You sent him a message back that said, “I told you I’m a visual learner,” and waited. He opened the message, and soon enough, you had a photo of him in his underwear staring back at you. His erection tenting his Calvin’s, his hand wrapped around the base. Showing you while not really showing you.

You quickly kicked your shorts off and reached for your dildo, filming yourself as you sucked on the tip. Getting it nice and sloppy, holding eye contact with the screen before moving the view to your dripping cunt and pressing the toy inside. Gasping at the sensation, slowly withdrawing it as you moaned Bob’s name.

“Wish you were here fucking me,” you said. “I need you, Bob. Need you so fucking badly. So fuckin’ wet for you. I’d take your cock so good.”

Some of your words were mumbled, but the video was sent before you could doubt yourself. Continuing to fuck yourself with the dildo while you watched Bob open and replay the video. You groaned at the thought of him jerking off while watching you. So close to your orgasm, you refused to cum until Bob sent a video back.

You grinned wickedly when he did and turned the volume up as you watched it. He lay on the couch palming himself over his boxers, groaning softly as he tugged the waistband down and freed his cock.

“See?” He said lowly. “I knew you were a good girl. Taking that dildo so good.” He chuckled as he slowly stroked his cock. “Fuck, you’d be so tight around me. God, listen to you. So fucking wet. I want to see you cum for me, baby. Can you do that?”

“Fuck, Bob,” you moaned, filming yourself once again. “Want to feel how deep you are inside me. Wanna cum all over your cock. Wanna feel your hands all over me, your mouth. Just wanna make you feel good.”

You came hard at the admission. Thrusting the dildo deep inside your cunt as your legs clamped down and your body shook. You chanted Bob’s name over and over again, smiling drunkenly at the camera as you came down from your high. Stopping the video before sending it back to Bob. Taking a second to gather yourself before cleaning up in the bathroom and hopping back into bed.

Bob had replayed the snap again, and it’d been a few minutes since that notification. You got comfortable, waiting for him to send a response. You’d come, you didn’t really care if he wanted to show you his own orgasm.

Then the video appeared and you watched with hungry eyes. He grunted and groaned as he stroked his cock, hips thrusting upwards into his hand.

“Such a good little girl, fucking hell,” he groaned, teasing the angry red tip of his cock. “Gonna make me cum, baby. Fuck, I wish I was inside you. Need to feel that tight little cunt squeezing my cock as you cum. Fucking hell.”

His cock twitched in his hand, cum spurting out and running over his knuckles. His moan was muffled, almost strangled. Hand slowly stroking his cock through his orgasm, milking the last of his cum from his cock.

You sent him a picture of you smiling back, with the caption, “I’d make you a mess, but I’d also clean you up,” and added a winking emoji before sending the photo. Your mind was reeling from what you’d just done, but your body felt satiated. Maybe it was because Bob had been far more into it that you’d thought? Maybe it was because you were drunk that you could actually rationalise it?

Either way, you felt dopey. Blissful.

Bob’s response was to save your photo to the chat before he typed his response.

i’ll see you tomorrow for your mission briefing. rest up x

You groaned and buried your head in your pillow. You’d really done it now.

#robert bob floyd #bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x you #bob floyd smut #robert bob floyd smut #bob floyd fanfic #bob floyd fanfiction #robert bob floyd fanfic #robert bob floyd fanfiction

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teddybeartoji · 7 months

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mickeyyyyy *smiles too wide* i would love to hear ur thoughts about snow leopard hybrid!gojo if ur up for it,,,the words themselves just itched something in my brain

MOSS<333333333 i love ur smile btw I AM KINDA NEW TO HYBRIDS OKAY BUT THIS ONE IS JUST SOOOOOOO MMMMMMM also wait here is the twt art that made me lose it (everybody say thank u logan we love u logan for showing it to me) AAAAAAAAAAA IT'S SOOO FUCKING GOOOOOD HE LOOKS SOSO PERFCECT it suits him so well my brain is all mushy already

geto locking him out bc he purred too loudly fuuuuuuuuckkkkkkk he's so cute i want him. like he'd be sooooo clingy right?????? always trying to settle down in your lap always trying to get you to pet him to scratch his ears and he ALWAYSSS PURRS SOOOO LOUDLYY although i would never lock him out sugu is weak for that smh... i think he'd kind of like it when you played with his tail too?? usually felines don't like that too much but since it's you - he loves that shit. he likes to twirl it around your arm and his eyes go so big whenever that makes you laugh GOOD GODDDDDDDD look this is a full on ramble i hope something makes sense too i'm sorry for that i just🥴🥴🥴

oh my god he probably waits for you by the door when you come home, biting down on his tail just like in the picture?????? i'm kinda torn between whether he'd be good while you're gone or would he act up bc i mean it's satoru. the ultimate brat. so maybe he does scratch the couch a little or something? to show how upset he is over you leaving him at home:(((( you can't stay mad either bc c'mon look at him:((((((((((((((((((((((( god i wanna pet him sm

he probably likes to take care of you in his own way too right? like groom you? is that the word? he'd want to lick you, clean you, make sure you're all relaxed and feeling good after a long day. he's such a good boy:(((( he loves you:((((((((

oh and obviously he's super fucking clingy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i mean that's canon for him anyway but now even more. he always wants to drape himself in your lap, his tail curling around you like i said before too. please scratch his ears please please please:((( when you're trying to cook he's glued to your side, nuzzling into your skin - whether it's into your neck or just your back, he just wants to be close to you:(((

he also likes to nip at your skin!!!! there have been a few times where he bites down just a tad bit too hard and it drew blood but it was an accident!!!! he never wants to hurt you he felt so bad after that:(( went at sat in the corner with his tail between his legs:(((((( but you of course forgive him and coax him back to you with some belly rubs

after that he learned how to be more gentle, though. so now he often just fakes biting you just to hear you laugh or playfully scold him. when he does sink his teeth in - maybe your arm or your thigh; he always keeps eye-contact.

when you're just lazing around - reading a book, playing a video game - he's always next to you. always. maybe every once in a while he decides to take a nap, belly up, paws kind of folded and oh, he looks adorable like that. he's just a big kitty okay. btw he's always touching you. clingyclingyclingy. even when he's sleeping, he has to be touching you in some way.

SUGGESTIVE! gets upset when you come home and you have other smells on you. especially other mens' smells. maybe your co-worker hugged you goodbye or something and now his cologne sticks to your skin and satoru can't have that. he's just immediately pawing at you - begging for your attention and when you grant him that, he's jumping on you, pushing you down and licking over whereever the stench is. after he deems you clean, he just rubs himself against you - his way of marking you. you don't know that though... you just think he really missed you...... mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

can hybrids go into heat............................? LOOK I'M NEW HERE OKAY I NEED TO LEARN. if they do.............. if he does............ oh boy... you need to get something to surpress those bc he will lose it. he's humping your bed, he's humping your pillow, he's sniffing your clothes. your underwear. sometimes he's pawing at your dresser, looking for more clothes but mostly his target is the dirty laundry basket....................................... everything goes when you're out....... he's gonna make a big big mess..............................................🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴 ok i think i need to stop myself here otherwise i'll really lose it........................

moss i need to hear your thoughts on this. NEEEED TO HEAR THEM. DESPERATELY NEED TO. if u know about hybrids u can teach me. i'm..... in it now......................... heheheheheh this was so fun i'm sorry it took a min love but yeah i can't wait to hear your ideas aaaaaaaaaa I LOVE YOIUUUU I HOPE YOU HAD A GOOD DAY MY BELOVED<3333

#AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA #SNOW LEOPARD!GOJO LIVES IN MY HEADDDDDDDDDDD #HE'S CRAZY #HE'S SOOOOOOOOOOOOO CUTE #I NEED TO PET HIM I NEED TO SCRATCH HIS EARS I NEED TO PLAY WITH HIS TAIL #RUB HIS TUMMY??????????????????????#yeah he's gonna make me spiral #moss thank u for indulging me on this hehehhehehehe #love u #moss <3 #friends!!#angel boy #mickey can't stop thinking #gojo headcanons #gojo satoru #snow leopard!gojo

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m1ssunderstanding · 7 months

Text

Understanding Lennon McCartney Rewatch Part 2.2

Prettyyyyy

Maybe John's not actually crazy for thinking Hey Jude is to him? “For well you know that it's a fool who plays it cool by making his world a little colder.” fool is, in my tin hat world, often a code name for Paul in their songs. And that description is certainly him to a t actually. I wonder why I've never considered it before.

John: are you happy here, honey? Paul: I ain't happy here my honey, can you take me back? How many songs does Paul write from 1968 on about trying to go back? One day I'm going to make a list and it'll be a long one.

And thus begins the phase of they just can't help it, can they? But they really wish they could. They make each other so so happy, but they really wish they didn't. It would hurt less that way.

I love the comparison of Linda's pictures of everyone else and then of John. It just shows that it's not a her problem – that's such a lovely one of George, who Hates Yoko – it's how he feels about her.

John, coming up with every possible weapon to provoke Paul, finally has Yoko sing Paul's part in one of their songs. It really is such a slap in the face. But of course breaking the sanctity of their music is what does it best. And still, all he gets out of him is a look before he walks away. Whatever it is that John wants, I think Paul literally can not give it to him.

Btw the white album is my favorite, probably. There's just such incredible diversity on it. It's so much fun, you never get tired of it, and it's an excellent display of their genius and versatility.

He looks like an abandoned puppy.

What do we think? John says Paul drummed on WDWDITR. Paul says Ringo did. Who is telling the truth?

“It was getting to be where he wanted to do it like that but he couldn't make the break . . .” So John thinks Paul doing his songs by himself means he wants to break the group up? I personally read it as him not wanting to annoy everyone with his bossiness, but that's just my take.

John talking about how it's him and Yoko now, but before, it was . . .

George needs to send them a cease and desist notice or he'll sue them for breech of character the amount of times they drag him into things he's not a part of. Especially if they're not going to even fucking spare him a glance in reality. Please and thank you, Hare Krishna.

Paul's epigraph on the two virgins cover. “Battles to prove he was a saint”? What kind of passive aggressive shit is that, Paul?

The eternal question: what happened in India? And does John really not know? Or is he just unwilling to tell what happened to rolling stone?

Somebody please engage with that poor little boy, preferably, you know, his father. Ugh, Cynthia must've had so much anxiety watching that footage, or really any time Julian was with John. And that footage is placed in the doc right after a pic of Paul already being Heather's dad just so naturally.

But hell, if I've ever seen attention-seeking behavior, this is it. Singing about wanting to die while seductively undressing the closest thing Paul would've had to career competition at the time.

I'm sorry but it will forever be hilarious to me that when John's singing his part of “I've Got a Feeling” with Yoko it's “soft dream” and then with Paul it's “wet dream”. How John and Yoko tricked everyone into believing they were too horny for each other to control themselves is beyond my imagination.

On the day John plays their sex tape, “Unusually, Yoko is not present.” LMAO girl same. John: I'm going to play our sex tape for the band tomorrow. Yoko: oh was that tomorrow? Damn, I forgot, I have a thing.

“Well that's an interesting one.” What did John honestly expect, though? Like I know he wanted Paul to be like, “that's it! Enough is enough I'm taking you home and doing you right!” Or whatever. But what did he honestly, realistically expect?

Always saying the same things at the same time, always on the same page, same word. About everything, it seems, except their relationship.

Paul: but you won't say anything about it. John: I said what I've been thinking. Paul: Are you still thinking that now? What are you thinking now? John: I'm still thinking about it. Infuriating. Whatever it is John's been thinking, he doesn't want to talk about it in front of cameras. Is it quitting the band? I think it's something more complicated than that but I've no idea what.

“John, John, joooooohn!” X “Martha my Dear” crossover my beloved. The fact that literally Everyone reacts and tries to get her to stop except Paul is so extremely telling. Yoko: joooooohn! Ringo: He's busy! Yoko: joooooohn! John: Stop that! (And he looks and sounds genuinely pissed) Yoko: joooooohn! Paul: (plinking and pounding away, definitely not thinking thoughts about what he would do right now if he was a girl that will come out of his mouth fifteen years later)

Everyone's trying to figure out the problem with George vs JohnandYoko and Paul's saying “and like with Yoko, they’re real. They mean it.” Linda laughs. “I don't dig that.” You don't, Linda? What about them isn't real to her, I wonder. Does she think they don't really love each other? Or what?

Linda: *Makes fart noise* Go away! Paul: continues to defend them. Neil: everybody cough. See and this is why it sucks that get back was so edited. Because it's important that Paul's defending them here not just going on and on where nobody asked. He knows he's hurt John, and he feels bad enough about it to let him have his mommy with him at all times if that's what he needs.

If what??? Someone needs to force them to finish their damn sentences. Because I feel like he cuts himself off here when (I swear!!) he's about to say what it is that's hurting John so badly.

Anyway, here's where (imo) he's kinda wrong. Where he says "if it came to a push between Yoko and the band, it's Yoko." I think I said it in my get back posts, but I'll say it again. Yeah, if it was Yoko or the band, it's Yoko. But if it's Yoko or Paul filling all the gaps Yoko is currently filling? It's Paul. You know? And I think that's what John wants so badly at this time, actually. Is “a push between Yoko and [Paul]” ending with Paul stepping up for him in some way that he wasn't before, you know?

He really does get it though. John wanting to be as close as possible with Yoko so he doesn't lose her and their connection. Don't forget he does put Linda in his band. He gets it because it was the same with him and John.

I really do think it's a huge myth that they just never talked about feelings or anything serious. Look at them. This is how they talk in a crowded place with their girlfriends sitting right there. They didn't just get through fifteen years of one of the greatest collaborations in history never actually talking. They talked about deep stuff. And frequently.

#paul mccartney #the beatles #john lennon #mclennon #ringo starr #george harrison #linda mccartney #yoko ono #ulm #understanding lennon mccartney

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silkscream · 6 months

Text

CHAPTER 9: GOD IS A CIRCLE

ੈ✩ gojo satoru x reader, geto suguru x reader

Your angels do not react. They only look at you with concern, shielding you from the blazing sun with their wings. They stare as you laugh, doubling over, falling backwards into the green grass. You only remember that you’re alive when they trace the contours of your body with their fingertips.

ੈ✩ chapter cw/tags: explicit content (18+ mdni) , unprotected sex, high sex, threesome, oral sex, fingering, graphic depictions of violence and blood, recreational drug usage, biblical imagery, angst

ੈ✩ wc: 5.5k

ੈ✩ a/n: i was barely conscious when i wrote this. sorry bout it

playlist ✸ read on ao3 ✸ series masterlist

August, 2009

Bliss is never eternal. If it was, you’d think the world would stop turning with everyone busy with their greatest indulgences. It’s not like you were much of a hedonist anyway, not even with Satoru’s influence.

You feel intoxicated with him and Suguru, but it’s not enough to keep you from reality. Yaga-sensei proves this the moment the boys are ordained the task of protecting the star plasma vessel—a fourteen-year-old girl with more spirit than you ever had at that age. You admire her spunk, her unwillingness to take shit from either of the boys. It entertains you endlessly.

“How do you deal with them?” she mutters to you. You learn that her name is Riko Amanai. She loves the ocean and has a sweet tooth like Satoru. Her favorite flavor is anything blue.

“I keep them in check.”

“Are you my bodyguard too?”

“Not really,” you laugh. “But I’ll be around.”

Riko likes you. She clings to you more than you anticipate, considering this isn’t your mission, but you understand. She’s vulnerable despite her confidence in her fate as Tengen’s vessel. Talks a big game with blue eyes shining bright, similar to Satoru.

She pouts at your absence. You think nothing of it, knowing that she’s in good hands between the boys and that caretaker of hers. The bounty on the girl’s head is daunting, but the boys are the strongest, and you watch them evade the enemies easily.

It’s when they end up in Okinawa that something in your chest feels a bit empty. A bad omen, anxiety pooling in your gut.

Satoru texts you pictures from the beach—sea creatures from the ocean and the aquarium, selfies with Suguru that are often blurry. He texts you how much he misses you, how much he craves the parts of you that you think may be too intimate to even talk about out loud, let alone through text. Suguru sends you pictures of Riko and Satoru on the beach with the creatures they pick up from the ocean, of sunsets he knows you would enjoy.

You ache for their return.

satoru: gonna stay for another day jsyk

you: having fun?

satoru: yeaaaa

satoru: tired as fuck though

satoru: but riko likes the beach. thought we could give her one more day

you: you’re sweet

satoru: not as sweet as uuuuuuuuu

satoru: she says hi btw

satoru: shes mad ur not here

you: she likes me more than you

satoru: >:(

you: i’ll see you soon. get some sleep please

satoru: anything for u baby

Something has gone terribly wrong.

You have no reason to be worried—Satoru is more than capable of handling that assassin, no matter how swift his movements may be. It was whiplash to see a sword go through him, and it was whiplash to see Satoru react like it was a paper cut.

Now, in the Tombs of the Star, you feel a chill run up your spine as you escort Kuroi out. She’s still emotional, wiping tears after her goodbye to Amanai. Trepidation strikes you the same way it did in that forest all those months ago. The air has grown cold, but you can’t sense any other cursed energy but your own.

“Kuroi,” you breathe.

“Yes?” She sniffles, wiping her tears quickly.

“Go on without me,” you say cautiously. “I think I better guard the Tomb just in case. For Geto.”

“Alright. Thank you for being there for them.” Kuroi smiles at you with a warmth you aren’t sure that you deserve.

“I wasn’t the one protecting her.”

“I know, but she admired you a lot. We missed you in Okinawa.”

You pull her into a hug, one that you wish you’d given Riko moments prior. It’s a parting gift.

When she departs, you’re left alone in a dark hallway. You expect a spirit to jump out — something monstrous, an amalgamation of your nightmares. But this is a sacred place, you suppose. One meant for sacrifices and blessings. You’ve never really believed in blessings. The world is built on too many curses for that.

Something in the air made you want to choke, swallow back bile. Nothing like your old anxiety spells. It’s something else, you’re sure of it. And yet, it was quiet enough to hear a pin drop. The rustle of fabric.

He couldn’t go undetected, not completely. Not when your intuition was on overdrive, making you sick with it. Your senses acute.

“Haven’t seen you before.”

His voice is raspy, the sound of skinned palms on pavement. Deep the way Japanese whiskey burns down and sits in your stomach a little too heavy. There’s a split on the corner of his mouth as if he’d been nicked by a thorn. He smiles at you with lazy, bovine eyes and a snake-like smirk.

This man is not a figment of your imagination — he’s real as can be as he towers over you, yet there’s not a lick of cursed energy you can feel, even when you’re this close to him. A human.

You think about Satoru and the sword that went through his chest. You look at the sword that the stranger in front of you wields. Within a second, you rush to touch him, but your technique doesn’t activate as soon as you want it, too. He slashes you across the stomach, crimson permeating the torn fabric of your uniform.

“Weak little girl,” he chides. “You’re too pretty to kill, though.”

You gag, nearly vomiting on the ground.

“You their girlfriend or what? Would’ve thought they were fucking each other, to be honest.”

You shake your head weakly, your vision blurring already. You hear a bark of a laugh. Not even your bared teeth can be taken seriously, not when you’re bleeding out on the ground. He tuts as if he’s scolding you.

“He’ll kill you,” you hiss. The man laughs again. You must be referring to one of your boys. He grins wider when he realizes.

“Which one? The one with the bangs?” he scoffs. “Because I already killed the Gojo brat, sweetheart.”

You feel your heart drop, sinking like an anchor as the feeling drags your body down with it. You look at him with wide eyes, and the sadistic stare you get back tells you he wants to humiliate you. It would hurt less if he just killed you.

Satoru would never die by the hand of a non-sorcerer. Not a fucking chance. But the notion doesn’t stop the itch behind your nose, your eyes threatening tears. The man crouches, his face looking down at you in mock sympathy, and places a rough palm to your face, swipes your quivering bottom lip. You taste blood.

You clutch his wrist immediately and he raises his hand.

Something metal whips the side of your face, something heavy. Your sight of vision narrows into black.

When you wake, you aren’t sure if you’ve arrived in a nightmare or had just left one.

For one, Satoru is saturated in blood. The scratches on his face are brutal. He looks half feral, half shell-shocked. It’s nothing you’ve seen before.

Despondency paints Suguru’s face into a shadow of himself. There’s something off about their cursed energy.

You don’t want to ask them how the rest of the mission went — you can already tell what the answer might be. If everything went according to plan, there wouldn’t be a blank stare in each of their eyes. If everything was fine, they would return to you like themselves — animated and flirty and teasing. If everything was the way it was meant to be, maybe you wouldn’t have the slight scar of a side wound aching at the side of your gut.

Instead, they’re all business. It’s like they look through you when they speak to you.

“Is Riko…” you trail off.

“She’s dead,” they say.

They deliver the news to you, expressionless. Mirroring each other.

There’s a blankness in Satoru’s eyes. Cold. No one exactly knows how to deal with being killed only to bring yourself back again. The thought of his mangled body surrounded by flyheads makes your stomach churn.

He had always been god-like, prodigal. After being reborn, he really was a God. Untouchable. You’d think him to be cockier or more cruel, but on the surface, he’s devoid of anything, really. He’s stony-eyed, instead, a little empty behind the face. There’s a spark of something when he sees the large bruise on your cheekbone and the ghost of a slash on your rib.

He won’t say much about the man who killed him. Only that he had no cursed energy and a son. You remember a scar bending with the curve of a mouth and sharp green eyes.

It’s quiet at Jujutsu Tech afterward. Yaga continues classes like he always does, and all of you do your best. There are fewer missions that are being demanded of you. You think it’s because of the failed mission. Despite this, Satoru takes on whatever he can, even volunteering for the tougher ones just so he can let off some steam. Suguru often tags along with him, leaving you alone to sulk.

You don’t think you have any reason to sulk. It’s not like you were killed, anyway.

You feel them both pulling away. You don’t bother to pry — they at least seem to be occupied with each other. They were best friends before you ever got close to either of them. You knew your place. You’d give them space, knowing the gravity of the trauma they’d experienced on the mission, and yet your heart ached all the same. It was a familiar hurt, the same you’d felt in high school about Satoru. It was only peculiar now because those feelings applied to both of them.

But then there are times when Satoru sneaks into your room like he always does. He likes to nip at your shoulder with teeth that feel sharper, meaner. Hand around your throat, the calluses squeezing flesh. He likes to pin you down to the mattress, likes to hear the squeak of the bedframe as he fucks into you mercilessly.

Suguru takes you, too, but not so desperately, not so obviously. He lures you in, instead. You realize that he’s different than Satoru in the way that he has the patience for games. It explains the teasing, the touching. He’ll have you wrapped around his finger just from talking to you, and within the hour, he’ll be fucking into your soaked cunt in the locker rooms after sparring.

You suppose this is the way they both let out their frustrations, how they cope with the trauma of losing Riko. They were tightlipped about her.

Both of them had changed in ways that were beyond your comprehension.

Satoru gets colder. Similar to the way he was in high school, when he barely acknowledged you. He doesn’t like to look at you for very long, as if the mere fact of his gaze on you would hurt him, hurt you. It was stupid. He didn’t care about your fragility before, so what point was there to care about it now?

Suguru is mostly the same, just quieter. Hell, he’d always been quiet, other than the times he’d fuck you or when you’d be alone with him. His sarcastic streak was weaker. He touched you less.

You can’t stand any of it.

Satoru isn’t meant to be someone so vulnerable. It’s out of character for him.

You soothe his nightmares when he wakes you up in the middle of the night clutching your waist with nails digging into the skin underneath your shirt. He’s always shaking, always mumbling something nonsensical.

Selfishly, you find that it feels nice to be needed. To be his only form of salvation during these times.

In his waking moments, Satoru is himself again. Belligerently so, with his recklessness. It’s up to you and Suguru to tame him, often. Satoru is almost a different version of himself – familiar and still annoying — but he is much more adamant about his power, nowadays. A God complex in the making.

Satoru gets greedier. He likes to wake you up with his nose nudging your clit, tongue already making a mess of your hole. No amount of pushing his head away with your hand would make him stop, though you blame yourself for indulging.

He likes to tease you for the semblance of control. You suspect that beyond playing with you, he finds solace in Suguru, instead. They aren’t particularly shy about it—sometimes you walk into Satoru’s dorm and find them entangled with one another, clothes off and warm to the touch. They always welcome you into their arms, forcing you in between them.

You feel like you’re at an arm’s length from them at all times despite this.

November, 2009

You settle on a routine. It’s less than pleasant, but you’re used to it. Convincing yourself that it’s normal, at least.

Yaga puts you on more solo missions — you’ve improved your technique. The precision of it is tough, always a wildcard given the unpredictability of destruction beneath your fingertips. Regardless, it’s gotten better. It doesn’t traumatize you so much to be a vehicle of decay anymore. You’re numb to it.

It’s odd — you’re carrying the burden of something you didn’t experience. Satoru finds that you are a mirror for Suguru, the same temperament and all. Always leaving the party to smoke cigarettes together. It doesn’t make him pissy necessarily, but it makes him pout. Clingy to the both of you.

“Stop being antisocial,” he whines.

You and Suguru look up at him in question. He had followed you out of the party when you saw Satoru’s hand on the waist of a girl you didn’t recognize. It was nothing, probably, but it wasn’t something you had ever had to deal with. It wasn’t like he could pry anything out of you, anyway.

“We’re not,” you defend, waving a cigarette around. “It’s too hot in there.”

It was true, to be fair. You were too warm in there and the outside air was nice. That, and you figured that Suguru would follow you, and he always wanted to steal you away for kisses.

Satoru had technically intruded on that, interrupting the moment Suguru had pulled away from your mouth. He eyes you wearing Suguru’s jacket and softens.

“You wanna go home, don’t you?” he asks.

“I can stay if you want,” you shrug.

He sighs. “Can you guys at least hang out with me?”

“Needy,” Suguru teases, stomping the butt of his cigarette on the ground and ushering you in between the sliding glass doors, hand on the small of your back. He nips at Satoru’s neck on the way in.

As if in apology, you don’t leave Satoru’s lap for the rest of the night. You don’t really get to. He even follows you to the bathroom and considers taking you over the counter for the hell of it.

It’s been difficult to touch you, lately.

In late August, the Zen’in outcast had killed him. Satoru had never thought of death as an option that was even possible. It’s why his mind was frenzied in his last moments, panicked as the two of them were surrounded by fly heads. He had not anticipated death, hadn’t anticipated the impact of it, how Suguru would have to return his corpse to Jujutsu Tech. How you would be shedding overflowing tears.

He’d like to think that your face or Suguru’s was in his mind when he took his last breath, but truthfully, he doesn’t remember. His mind was blank.

And when he had risen from the dead and shot a lethal hole through Toji Fushiguro, his mind was blank then, as well. The euphoria had faded. He had fulfilled the ordained role of a boygod, his hands were bloody, and he killed a man who would leave behind a son. He thought of his supposed immortality, his transcendence beyond something human, and then he thought of you.

You were the most human thing about him.

Your warmth, the flush in your cheeks. The way he had taken you back when you were in school, none the wiser about the world of curses. Sometimes he thinks you are one.

It wasn’t meant to go this far, but he had taken the leap and continued to wade in the pool of it all. He does not think of love when he thinks of his family, but he thinks of love when he sees you and Suguru. Something beating, something alive.

It was why he was constantly tipping the line between overflowing completely and being numb — Satoru was no stranger to his indulgences. You, on the other hand, were something else entirely. Fragile underneath his hands. Sometimes, he didn’t even think it was worth it to keep you in the bear trap he had set for you.

And then Suguru would kiss away your tears when Satoru was too rough, too cold, and he would succumb to his desires again. Instead of being something akin to a god, he often dreamt about being ordinary.

Maybe if his birth didn’t throw the planet off its kilter, he could truly be good to you instead of wanting to cut you open and live inside of you. Satoru would always be safe in your skin, but he had started to doubt that you would ever be safe in his.

You were the first to know him, he thinks. You had met him as a child and didn’t assume his divinity, rather, you were oblivious to it. Even as a little servant, you refused to kiss his feet. It relieved him. Satoru knew you always meant more to him than a toy, but in his emerging adulthood, he had taken you as a form of escapism and couldn’t cut you off. You had fastened yourself to him like an extra limb unknowingly.

“I don’t get how you can be so overbearing to her yet so distant at the same time,” Suguru remarks.

Satoru makes a face, scrunching his nose.

“Don’t play dumb.”

“I genuinely don’t know what you’re referring to,” Satoru says blankly.

“The teasing goes too far. And you get insensitive because you’re a prick, and then you barely text her back when you’re on missions.”

Satoru scoffs, fiddling with the pencil he twirls in his hands. Suguru was right, he supposed. He noticed you were a little hollow, all blank stares. Sleeping in while Satoru did not sleep at all.

“They’ve gotten harder lately. And it’s not like I’m–”

“Not what?” Suguru snorts. “Her boyfriend?”

Satoru says nothing to this. Instead, he tackles Suguru onto his bed, slides his palms underneath his shirt and up the smooth planes of his abdomen. He sighs, setting his head on Suguru’s chest.

“It’s not like she cares.”

“She does. She loves you.”

Satoru’s face reddens as if what Suguru says isn’t fact. On Satoru’s end, however – his feelings for you were an understatement. Calling it love seemed fruitless. He’d like to be fused with you, never letting you go. Stuck in the bliss of your skin kissing his in the early mornings forever.

“Think something got knocked loose when I died,” Satoru mumbles, his eyes blank.

Suguru looks at him in question, not following.

“I’ll make it up to her.”

January, 2010

“What are you getting Suguru for his birthday?”

“I don’t know,” Satoru shrugs, a blue raspberry lollipop filling up the hollow of his cheek. Tongue matching the blinding saturation of his eyes. “A blowjob?”

“You’re disgusting.”

“Don’t be homophobic! You like watching.”

“I’m serious,” you roll your eyes.

“We’ll take him out,” he grins, shoving his hands in his pockets. Always stupidly attractive, his beauty borderline mythological.

You knew he was lying, knew that he would be away on that Wednesday, that his calendar was always filled a month prior with what the higher-ups needed from him. You thought it was unfair, given that he was still only a second year, though you still knew better. The glaring truth of his strength ever since the failed Star Plasma Vessel mission was conspicuous, a reminder that started to become egregious to you.

Satoru takes some of your takoyaki in unspoken amusement with you rolling your eyes, passing the tray towards him. He pouts despite the gesture, reaching over to poke you in the cheek.

“That can’t taste good with all the sugar in your mouth.”

“You’d be surprised.”

You fixate on the television. Satoru had gotten lucky recently, convincing Yaga to convert one of the common rooms with the connected bathroom into a dorm for himself. He had the Gojo money to “donate”, and he’d been on his best behavior in the past few months, which was rare. It wasn’t like Yaga really gave a fuck about their boarding situation as long as the missions went smoothly.

The room was big enough to fulfill that dream of pushing two beds together. A TV set and dingy couch to match. He needed the TV to fall asleep at night, especially if you weren’t there to stroke his hair. It was the only light source beyond a Hello Kitty lava lamp that Suguru had gotten him as a joke gift.

Satoru had recently started an obsession with Godzilla for some reason, forcing you to watch one every few days before bedtime. You were going in order since Christmas – tonight was the one versus Hedorah.

“You never look at me anymore,” he whines.

“What are you talking about?”

You’d rather say something biting, like how it was the other way around. How he’s been shoving your face into the mattress. How you’d come back to your dorm and see Satoru in between Suguru’s legs without much acknowledgment to you until he’d finish.

“You look at me like I’m a mosquito bite or something. What’s wrong? You don’t think I’m pretty anymore?” he grins, settling his cheek into his palm.

“Not at all. You’re hideous,” you deadpan, crossing your arms. The remark earns you a light kick to your shin under the table.

“Wow. Rude. Personally, I think you’re God-sent.”

“I thought you wanted me to watch this movie,” you mutter, trying not to let him know how much his comment affected you. You always flushed when he said things like that still, and it would always be out of the blue.

“You know I like talking during movies.”

“Right. It’s one of your worst qualities,” you sigh.

The pillows around you are discarded when he suddenly pins you down to the carpet, your face right next to an old ash stain from one of Shoko’s cigarettes. He grins as he parts your mouth with the pad of his thumb, and you’re as obedient as you always are. There’s a ribbon of saliva from his mouth stretching as he takes the lollipop from his tongue to yours.

It wasn’t difficult to get his dick hard, really. He’d known that ever since he’d seen you sprawled on the grass next to the track field when you were fourteen, the way your chest was heaving and your underwear was just slightly visible underneath your gym shorts when you parted your legs.

Satoru thinks you’d laugh in his face if he’d told you about all the times he thought about you when you were teenagers despite the fact that he didn’t speak to you at all. He knows that he would deserve it.

It’s funny. He used to resent you then. He knew he could have you if he’d simply tried a bit harder, if he didn’t so abruptly toss you aside in middle school. Even so, you were everywhere for him—in his dreams, in his house against your will like a chained ghost. Back then, he hated that he loved you, hated that you were weak, hated that, at least besides Suguru, nobody knew him except you.

He wonders briefly if he was high on the taste of you or if the candy is laced with something— he wouldn’t be surprised, since Shoko and Suguru were enablers for the two of you even when you tried to be responsible. It didn’t matter anyway. Your body always made him this frenetic.

It’s when his fingers graze the heat of your cunt that Suguru barges in. He blinks at the two of you entangled on the floor and merely laughs.

“You guys just started?”

“Mmmf,” Satoru grunts. His hand’s wrapped around your neck, now, and your eyes are closed.

Suguru’s musk fills the room. White pine and sugary maple — he’d used Satoru’s deodorant before the mission. There’s still a blood splatter under his cheekbone the color of ripe plums. This was the usual weekend routine. Mindless fucking with a movie in the background. At least one of you would be too exhausted to muster up the energy to go into the city. It was easier to indulge inside, especially when the temperature kept dipping.

Your eyes flutter as Satoru bites your neck down to your collarbone. When you look toward the couch, you see Suguru with a plastic baggie of something you don’t recognize.

“What’s that?”

“Shrooms.”

“How the hell did you manage that?” Satoru quips, his hand digging into your hip.

“There are some freaks in Akihabara,” Suguru shrugs. He eats the mushrooms like they’re crumbs at the bottom of a chip bag. “Got this shit after my mission in a fucking vending machine outside a love hotel. Can you believe it?”

“What, did you get a room there or something?” Satoru snorts. “Whore.”

“Why would I, when I can home to this?” Suguru’s eyes are viper-like, serpentine as he smiles lazily. You’d eat from his palm if he asked you to. In sickness and health—it was stupid. You crawl to him and you do.

Satoru doesn’t take any. He knows full well that psychedelics fuck with his Infinity, that it would only make his insomnia worse. The last time he’d tried acid, he had nightmares for days, seeing green eyes of a hunter. Blood slashed from a blade to his neck. Flyheads swarming.

The drugs make you giddy. Another hour and the room spins in an orderly fashion, the ceiling dancing around in a kaleidoscopic pulse. Suguru had limited your dose, knew you’d freak the fuck out if your self started to disconnect. He’d been there enough times to despise it. Ego death was torture for the introspective kind.

He sucks a hickey into your neck while you’re mindless. It’s amusing how invested you are in this episode of Sailor Moon. Satoru lays his head on your thigh, playing with you lazily. You’re happy enough to take it, grinding against his hand as Suguru distracts you with a kiss. It’s tender and slow, not unusual for him, but with the two of them together, everything is usually frenzied.

He gets you in his lap, the sacrificial lamb you are. Always eager to walk into the predator’s gaping maw on your own accord because of his beautiful eyes. Suguru is no beast, but there’s something twisted about the way he plays with you sometimes.

He likes you to beg for it, but it’s not the taunting way that Satoru does. Suguru will inch his face close enough to yours to smell the artificial sweetness of your breath, then pull your hair when you lean in to kiss him. He’ll touch your thigh under the table, not unlike Satoru, but his fingers will dance around your core in a way that leaves you unable to speak to your fellow peers.

You wonder if they’ve learned their cruelty from each other. But this time, he’s sweet.

It’s the hallucinogen fogging his brain. It makes him like a teenager in love. Open-mouthed, pawing love handles. You’re wearing Satoru’s t-shirt, something monochromatic and stupidly expensive, and Suguru tears it off of you as his mouth waters.

Coughing, Satoru tilts his head, supports it with elbows on the carpet. His temperament is neutral, teasing even, but for some reason, looking at him makes you sober up to some degree of lucidity that’s sensitive to him. The part of you that wants to please him at all times.

You crawl to him and say his name. It’s child-like. The shrooms make your eyes wide, colors innocence onto your face from the bliss. It reminds him of when you were younger—bruised knees and twigs in your hair from tumbling in the forest with him. Something tugs at his chest.

“You tryin’ to seduce me?” Satoru jeers, tongue licking his teeth. His palm on your face is hot.

You smile and nod. His gaze lowers and he snaps the waistband of your sweats against your hip. Hand on your thigh again, taunting your synapses. You think he’ll take you with his usual ferocity, but he steals your breath with a kiss instead.

The kiss never ends. Maybe they switch in between, but you don’t notice. Your eyes are shut, tight enough to see phosphenes like a galaxy. Blue and purple bleeding into your irises. You feel them pulling you apart, cock filling you up, hands everywhere.

“Fuck,” someone gasps. Something like groveling, desperate hair pulling.

“Inside,” you beg. “Please.”

Satoru watches, mesmerized. The heat of your body, sweat pooling into the divot above your clavicle—it all makes his mouth water, but he stays still on the couch as Suguru pins you to the floor. It’s the most the Six Eyes has felt in months, for some reason, and he hadn’t even taken anything. He half-wishes he could get his hands on something other than you to inject into his veins—maybe then he could learn to be calm or fall asleep at regular times. Anything to stop the odd ache in his chest whenever he looked at you.

He’s never been a man of God. He was God himself. And then he sees you moan out, bliss-wrecked and flooded with light, burning like seraphim. He’d come back to life a thousand times just to see your face. It made him sick.

Satoru kisses you before you knock out on his bed, eyes half-open and dazed. You’re refusing to go to bed, citing euphoria for your desire to run a few laps. Meanwhile, Suguru is asleep on the couch, fucked out and satisfied.

You’re coaxed into sleep. It’s not hard once you start rambling, shut up only by the feeling of Satoru’s fingers running across your scalp. He lays awake like he often does, talking to the moon. He sighs as you nuzzle into him, your whole body curling towards him to ward off goosebumps. You’re nearly bare considering you didn’t bother to put on clothes after you and Suguru had finished.

Satoru pulls the blanket over you, sighing. He’d had the leftover beers in the mini-fridge just to feel a buzz, even the taste of German ales made his nose wrinkle. It still wasn’t enough to put his mind at ease. He stares at the stained carpet, then Suguru’s sleeping shadow, then your face. He shuts his eyes.

It’s been months, yet the memories still cage you. It’s like something wraps its hand around your throat in your subconscious. In each dream, you are aching for their return, and they come to you like newly-bloomed flowers.

It feels like you’ve been waiting for them for centuries, your body stuck in the grass with a bruise over your left eye that doesn’t stop aching. You don’t even know how much you’re bleeding until they return to you again, caressing your sides and pulling away at the sight of a wound.

Your angels are not dead. It’s enough relief for you to keep going, but they still look at you with furrowed brows. Blood spills from your mouth.

“I missed you. I missed you. I missed you.”

Despite the pain, the vision is familiar. You’re too distracted by their beauty, how their mere presence is arcadian in itself. You don’t need anything else. You could die here.

Here, between them and their celestial bodies, in the green, green grass. Spider lilies bloom around you like kisses in blessing as the golden evening swallows you up. There’s a sinking feeling—a literal one, of you descending into the ground in a way that feels like a loose feather falling.

Your angels reach for you until they grasp the whole of you and turn you inside out. They pull apart the mess of you, reshaping you, undoing tangles and knots and bending the stem of your being so you can be reborn in their image. They love you enough to do so.

And when you look back at them with love in your eyes, you flinch. They’re eclipsed by something terrible, too far away for you to reach. It’s bloody. It has a voice like skin scraping pavement, full-bodied whiskey.

You stretch your hand out only meet a sweaty palm. When you open your eyes, a pair of blue ones stare back at you.

#gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x you #geto suguru x you #geto x you

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girl-in-the-chairs-void · 7 days

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AAAAA OH MY GOD<3333333 Please do a part 2 to hold me, console me, im eating it up

The angst is delicious, thank you<333333

Hold me, console me (part 2)

Theworst!logan x reader (part 1)

A/N: I know this goes without saying but I am a WHORE for broke men and the “I can fix him trope”, Logan fits just that. LEMME KNOW WHAT YALL THINK!! (not proofread btw)

You find yourself standing in front of a familiar door that morning—Wade's door. He had been the one to play matchmaker between you and Logan, always eager to meddle in his own chaotic way.

‘Sweet and sour, just how I like my cu-‘ he used to tease about your dynamic, though he never meant harm. How could he, when all you did was bring him and Al delicious dinners and baked goods? Wade would’ve married you himself if Vanessa weren’t in the picture. ‘You’re my twin flame,’ he’d often joke, even though you were nothing like him. You were quiet, reserved, and detested socializing unless it was within the comfort of either your or Wade’s apartment.

Now, here you are, on the morning of your worst heartbreak, clutching a tub of ice cream and a bag of microwavable popcorn outside his door.

Three sharp knocks echo in the hallway. You hear a clatter from inside, followed by a string of muffled curses, until the door swings open to reveal a face that knocks the air right out of you.

Logan.

“Oh...” Your eyes widen as you freeze, a storm of emotions brewing within you.

Before you can stop yourself, you push past him, setting down the ice cream and popcorn on a nearby table. When you turn around, your face is met with the solid wall of his chest. He looks down at you, sorrow etched deep into his features. And suddenly, everything boils over.

“You,” you spit, fire blazing in your eyes. You strike his chest, again and again, and he lets you—lets you unleash your frustration, your anger, because he knows he deserves it.

“You left. No warning, no note. You were just... gone! Clothes packed, phone off! What were you thinking? I begged you to stay, Logan. I begged.” Your voice cracks, and the tears come, burning hot down your cheeks. But all you notice is the tears in his eyes, and the soft rustle of movement from the kitchen where Wade is likely listening.

You try to ignore the thought of Al and Wade overhearing your heartbreak, keeping your tear-blurred gaze fixed on Logan.

“Bub—”

“No,” you cut him off sharply. “I know it’s hard, Logan. I do. I was there when Wade went through his worst. I’ve stood by friends in their darkest days. I want to be there for you, through everything. But you shut me out.”

Your voice trembles, betraying you, and you see him instinctively move to hold you, but you step back, wiping at your tears. The hurt in his eyes is unmistakable, but you continue.

“I’m sorry if you think I’m pushing you too hard. I’m sorry if I ask for too much. But I love you, Logan. And no matter how much you run, I won’t leave you. Not ever.”

The silence between you lingers, thick with unsaid words, before it’s broken by slow clapping from the kitchen.

“You really hit him with that one, sweets,” Wade’s voice calls out. “No, seriously, I was just telling him he should’ve dealt with his frustration by boning you—”

But Wade’s words are cut short. Before you know it, Logan’s grabbed your wrist and is pulling you toward the door, past Wade’s crude commentary. He leads you out of Wade's apartment, two doors down to your own, ignoring the continued yells from Wade behind you.

“Logan, what—?” you barely get the words out before his arms are around you, lifting you from the waist until your face is nestled against the crook of his neck. You feel the warmth of his tears against your skin, his body trembling with quiet sobs.

You hold him, your hands moving to comfort him, running through his hair, soothing his ragged breathing.

“You—” he starts, his voice breaking with the weight of it. “In my world... you died. I killed you. I let you die.” His voice shakes as the sobs take over. “I never meant to... I didn’t mean to let them die, bub.”

You feel his knees give way, and the two of you sink to the cold hallway floor. He’s crying harder now, his grip tightening around you as if letting go might make you disappear too.

“I’m sorry, I’m so—”

“Shhh,” you whisper, cutting him off softly. “I’m here. It’s okay. I’m here.”

He clings to you, his desperation palpable. You pull away just enough to cup his face in your hands. “Look at me, Logan. I’m alive. You didn’t lose me—not here.”

You press a kiss to his forehead, feeling his breath begin to slow, then to his tear-soaked eyelids. You kiss him softly, murmuring gentle reassurances between each touch.

“I’m here. I’ll hold you. I’ll love you. Forever. Does that sound like a deal?”

As you cradle Logan’s face in your hands, his breathing starts to slow. The raw emotion in his eyes begins to soften, though the weight of everything still lingers in the air between you. He looks at you, truly seeing you, and for the first time in what feels like forever, a small, shaky smile begins to form on his lips. It’s brief, but it’s there. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

“I don’t deserve you,” he whispers, his voice hoarse.

“Don’t say that,” you reply softly. “You’re here now. That’s what matters.”

For a long moment, neither of you moves, the cold floor grounding you both in the present. His arms are still tight around your waist, as though letting go might shatter the fragile peace you’ve found. You stay like that, the world outside your apartment and Wade’s chaotic energy fading into the background.

Eventually, you pull back slightly, your hands sliding from his face to his shoulders.

“Come on,” you say gently. “Let’s get up. You’re going to catch a cold sitting here, even if it’s for a little bit.” You say, aware of his super healing.

Logan hesitates, as if reluctant to let go of the closeness, but then he nods. You both stand slowly, your legs shaky from the emotional intensity. Without a word, you lead him into your apartment, closing the door behind you.

Inside, the dim lighting casts a soft glow over the room. It’s quiet, a contrast to the whirlwind of emotions that just unraveled in the hallway. You sit on the couch, and Logan follows, sitting beside you. There’s still a heaviness in his movements, a man weighed down by too many ghosts from his past, but he’s here. He’s with you.

For a few minutes, the silence is comfortable. You lean against him, his arm naturally wrapping around your shoulders. The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest is a soothing reminder that despite everything, you’re both still here—alive, together.

“You don’t have to talk,” you say softly, sensing the turmoil still swirling inside him. “Not now. Not until you’re ready.”

Logan’s thumb traces slow circles on your shoulder, a sign that he’s listening. After a moment, he speaks, his voice quiet but steady.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready,” he admits. “But... I want to try.”

You turn to face him, your heart swelling with a mixture of hope and sadness. “That’s all I need to hear.”

He leans in, pressing his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “I’m sorry for leaving,” he whispers. “For everything.”

You close your eyes, feeling the weight of his words. “I know. But you’re here now. And we’ll figure it out. Together.” You reach for his hand, giving it three squeezes before reaching up to give him a peck, one of reassurance.

For the first time in a long while, you both let the quiet settle, not out of avoidance, but out of mutual understanding. The journey ahead might not be easy, but it’s a path you’ll walk side by side. As the minutes tick by, you feel a sense of calm wash over you. You’re not alone in this—neither of you are. And for now, that’s enough.

Suddenly, a loud knock on your door breaks the silence that makes you jump, followed by Wade’s unmistakable voice shouting through the wood.

“Hey! Are you two done with the emotional stuff yet? I’ve got pancakes in here, and they’re getting cold!”

You exchange a glance with Logan, both of you barely suppressing a laugh. The tension in the room eases just a bit, the smallest sliver of normalcy creeping back in.

“We should probably go before he kicks the door down,” you say with a smirk.

Logan stands and offers you a hand, his expression a little lighter now. “Yeah,” he agrees, a small but genuine smile finally reaching his eyes.

And for the first time in what feels like forever, you both walk back toward the world—not broken, but healing, one step at a time.

#logan howlet x reader #logan howlett #the wolverine #deadpool and wolverine #wolverine x reader #logan howlet smut #Logan howlet fluff #Logan fic #Logan fluff #logan angst #Logan and wade #the wolverine x reader #Logan #x men #x men fic #hugh jackman

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milliesfishes · 2 months

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Hi was listening to special death and I CANNOT stop thinking of billy with an x witch reader please 🥺🥺🥺

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚𝓢𝓹𝓮𝓵𝓵𝓫𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓭𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚

[fem reader] contains: talk of witchcraft, trauma pairing: billy the kid x fem reader summary: witch reader x billy the kid author’s note: anon, this has been on my mind forever since you sent it I hope you enjoy! Open to doing a part 2 btw let me know <3 Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

Billy had always taken a liking to those on the outcast side of society.

Since he himself fell into that category, he paid special attention to the ones those with exorbitant amounts of money declared misfits. They were a curious subject to him since he often discovered them not to be what everyone declared.

When there were whisperings of a new face in town, one passerby pronounced as strange, his attention was piqued. Billy wasn't a gossip by any means, but he leaned in a little whenever he heard someone talking about said soul.

"She's very odd," one woman said as she examined a bushel of apples, not bothering to quiet her tone. "Moved into a little cottage over the glen and hasn't spoken to anyone yet."

"I saw her one morning," her companion said, nodding along. "Out in the hills shamelessly, shoulders uncovered, gathering plants. I'm so glad she hasn't come into town. Although it'd give us a good laugh, I suppose."

Billy stopped listening after that, their facts trickling into fiction. He was used to the way women in the marketplace spoke about each other, and usually he paid them no mind. But this was interesting. Most folks didn't move to this little corner of the world, willingly or not.

As the weeks passed, the whispers about the new woman in town grew louder. When he heard a few men in the saloon talking about her, his interest was really captured. Usually, the only thing they talked about was work or the game at hand. Now the only topic on their tongues was the woman with long hair who did strange things in the woods.

"She's a witch," one older man said earnestly, setting his hand down. "Ain't never seen anythin' like it. Someone oughtta drive 'er out before she curses us all."

"Nah, she won't hurt anyone," another man chortled. "Saw 'er myself the other morning. Timid little thing. The second she saw me she bolted. Doubt we'll hear from her much."

"Gives our wives somethin' new to talk about," the cowboy across from him said, tossing a few coins into the pot. "Good thing too. I was sick of hearin' 'bout who's doin' what at the inn."

A witch? That was a new one. Billy had been told tales of spellcasters both good and evil in his mother's Irish fairy tales, but he'd never heard of one existing. It was a far-fetched notion. One he was keen to discover the truth of. One he didn't know he would stumble upon.

The morning was was misty and cloudy, the sun barely risen over the hills. He hummed to himself as he guided his horse to a forest-y part of the hills. Now was the best time to be out. The world was quiet, the chatter of everything quieted by a required action of unconsciousness.

He peered through the thick branches, dismounting and tying his horse when he saw something moving. There was a little clearing nearby, and he wondered if a deer had wandered in to graze.

But when he got closer, he realized the presence was human. He could make out long hair and a white dress between the leaves. Then when he pushed willow leaves aside, he finally saw you clearly.

Graceful and lithe, you pushed your hair aside as you gathered a purple flower from a bush he recognized as lavender. The thin strap of your dress fell off your shoulder, and he found himself staring at the expanse of skin exposed. As you bent over, he could see the tops of your breasts, a single pendant on a ribbon tucked between them.

Instantly he knew you were the woman everyone was talking about. When they said witch he'd pictured an old crone with gray hair and time worn skin. But here you were, youthful and smooth and lovely.

The way you moved was mesmerizing. There was an air about you that made it impossible to look away. It was more than being attracted; Billy had certainly felt that before. This was something different. This was being drawn like a magnet, being helpless to the pull of your gravity. And you were in your own world, unaware of him, of anything at all.

He watched, captivated, as you tied your lavender with a ribbon, sticking it into a little bag so the purple poked out. Now you were climbing a tree expertly, crawling across a branch that hung over a tall patch of wild roses.

Cocking his head, Billy observed you turn upside down, still hanging from the branch like a sloth. Your hair fell like a curtain he longed to part. You stretched your neck to see below you, squinting a bit. Positioned right over the middle of the large patch, he was confused at what exactly you were doing.

Then in an instant you let go.

Billy's hand stretched out as if he could reach you from where he was standing. His jaw dropped, eyes wider than saucers as he watched you fall like a ragdoll into the mess of brambles and blooms.

He jumped into action, running before he knew what he was doing. Thorns gnawed at him when he pushed through the stems in an attempt to get to you. The result was sharp bouts of pain that made him wince, and he had to stop halfway there, grunting and touching the scratches on his face and arms. His fingers came back bloody.

There was a rustling sound, and your head popped up, eyes wide, plants coming up to your shoulders. With a furrowed brow, you called, "Are you okay?"

Oh, your voice was musical. A song he wished he could sing, a song that wouldn't sound as lovely unless it was coming from your mouth. He managed a half smile. "Ah...little tangled up."

You were moving closer with worried eyes. "Did you fall in?"

"N-no," he managed, disarmed as you came near. Being close to you was like drinking too much whiskey- it sent his head into a buzz. "But you did."

Pausing, your lips parted in realization. Now you knew what he had been trying to do. "I see."

"But you're-" Now you were reaching out a smooth hand, touching his face and turning it to the side so you could presumably see the battle scars from the sharp vines. The feel of your touch cut him off for a moment. He could see your eyes more clearly, and there was a spark in them he couldn't place. Maybe if you stood like this forever, he'd spend an equal amount of time drowning in them.

As you studied him, he studied you. Despite the fact you'd fallen right into the roses, there wasn't a single scratch on you. You were utterly untouched. He opened his mouth to ask, but you frowned, turning his cheek to the side. You took off his hat, so the shadow of the brim didn't disturb your view.

Clicking your tongue regretfully, you looked at him apologetically. "Come with me. I'll get you something for all these..." you gestured at the mess of his bodily afflictions.

Billy didn't think he'd ever be able to say no to you. He merely nodded as you put his hat back on his head, moving elegantly through the bush. The thorns slid over your skin like it was made of glass. He followed you, wincing as the same plants re-scratched him.

Once you were both out, he noticed you were holding a bunch of the wild roses, tied with a ribbon just like the lavender had been. You shoved it into your bag, picking it up and smiling a little at him. "C'mon. I can help you if you want."

A little wistfully, he nodded, looking back behind him. "My horse-"

Like clockwork, his horse appeared from the thicket from where he'd left it. Billy shook his head, sure he was seeing things. You didn't seem surprised by it, however, merely reaching out to the creature.

"Be careful, he-" Billy's warning was lost as he saw his normally finnicky horse nuzzle against your hand. He was baffled.

You handed him the reins. "I don't live very far away."

Powerless to stop your draw, he followed you.

You were quiet on the short journey, facing forward. The sun was higher now in the sky, and it illuminated you beautifully. He had a feeling any element would suit you. Practically one of the earth's daughters, you glowed here as if you were born directly to it.

The cottage in which you resided was simple, surrounded by wildflowers. Vines crept up the walls, kissing the roof. It was quaint and charming, just like you.

He tied his horse at the fence, and you produced a carrot from your bag, feeding it to the animal before leading Billy inside.

The walls were lined with shelves of old books. There were vases of flowers on every surface, but they weren't filled with water as expected. Instead, mounds of little shells held them in place. He could see jars full of herbs and liquids, lit candles lighting the space. You set your bag down on a table in the center, beckoning him to sit.

He did, watching you flit around the room, reading the labels on jars until you found the perfect one, popping the cork and peering inside. Nodding once, you came back over to him. "Here-" you removed his hat once again and dipped your fingers in the jarred substance, dabbing it where the thorn scratches must be.

The paste wasn't unpleasant smelling, and he liked that you were so close. Billy could see clearly your silky hair and smooth body. He wanted to run his fingers over it, see if it was as soft as it looked.

You knelt at his side, rolling up the sleeve of his right arm to put substance over the wounds there too. He smiled at the sight. "Are you a healer?" He didn't know if witch was the correct term.

Looking up at him, you offered him a little tilt upward of your lips. "Is that what they say in town about me?"

"Well..." he squinted as he thought. "Not exactly."

"I figured," you resumed your task, and he enjoyed the feel of your fingers on his skin. "For what it's worth, I do not wish to hurt anyone."

With your kind eyes and seemingly gentle demeanor, he hadn't thought you would. He told you so. Now your smile was wider. "That's nice of you to say. It seems I'm a danger to everybody else."

He shook his head. "You're helpin' me."

You looked up at him with doe eyes, and his heart fluttered. "Do you know what I am?"

Billy was lost in the universe of your eyes for a second. He thought of the way you'd glided through the thorns, retaining nary a remnant. The way you seemed to have such a way about you that was nearly magical. His tone was light when he guessed. "You're a witch?"

Your eyes were unchanging, when he half expected a rain of fire to engulf him. "It's funny. I've had that term lobbed at me in anger a thousand times. But you say it so casually. You say it the way I do."

"My mama used to tell me stories about witches," he nodded, noticing with awe that his scratches were fading into his skin as if he'd never been grazed. "Not all of 'em were bad."

Tilting your head, your smile grew. "She was right about that. It's just like people. Not everyone is fully good or evil. But majority rules."

The way you spoke was so lilted. He could listen for hours. "And you're good."

"I hope so," you said, and he caught a hint of melancholy in your eyes. But you shook it off as quickly as it appeared, rolling his other sleeve up and leaning over his slightly parted knees to put your salve on that arm.

"Did ya live near here before?" he asked, eager for information about you.

You resumed dabbing. "No. I used to live by the ocean."

He caught sight of the shells in the vases again. "'S far from here."

"It is." Standing up, you examined his face again, soft fingers gracing his jaw and positioning his head to the side. Tracing his jawline, you examined the area, fingers ghosting his stubble. "I miss it a lot. It was very beautiful."

"I can imagine," he nodded lightly, careful to keep his head in place. "And have ya always...ah...practiced witchcraft?"

A little giggle escaped your lips at his hesitation. "You can say it. It's okay." Then you shook your head. "No. Not always. But I was in a bad way and a different witch took me in. She healed me. And in exchange she spellbound me."

"Spellbound?" Billy felt like he was pressing for information, but he couldn't help it. You were so fascinating to him.

You either didn't see it that way or didn't mind. "Very few witches are born. They're nearly always spellbound." Now your fingers were in his hair, pushing it back to check for any more injuries. It felt wonderful, and he slightly leaned into your touch. Delicately, you sat on his knee, leaning in to check closer. You smelled like lavender. His hand twitched, wanting to rest on your waist, but he resisted.

"When a witch finds a successor, she gives her powers to someone else," you explained, eyes roving over his face. "Then that someone else is spellbound. They take up the burden of witchcraft and practice it to keep the magic alive until they find their successor. Usually when someone is spellbound, they've been an apprentice to that witch for a while. But she was getting older, and she hadn't found anyone and..." you trailed off, looking away. "It was easier to trade favors."

"There's no way to get out of it otherwise?" Billy questioned, searching your eyes.

"It's dangerous," you confessed. "That's when you give the power back to the earth, where it came from. I've looked into it. But in order for the current vessel of power to remain living afterward, the powers have to be more good than evil. And since they're passed down so many generations, and the vessel often doesn't know by who..."

"You can never know how much good there really was," Billy finished, guessing at it. You nodded, and a spark of pride lit in him.

"It's safer to give them to someone else," you concluded. "I haven't found anyone yet. The last town ousted me out before I could. And by the looks of things, I'm not sure I'll find anyone here either."

Billy could feel the deep sorrow in you like a tangible thing. He wanted to ask you more about it, about what had happened for the other witch to find you, about what exactly you did with your possessed power.

Instead, he reached up tentatively, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. "You don't want the burden?"

"It's a heavy thing to carry," you said softly, and it tugged at his heart.

"'F course," he whispered, looking between your eyes. His fingers were still on your face. He couldn't resist drawing a line from your cheek to your chin. You let him, staring into his eyes.

"You're beautiful." Billy said it like a prayer.

"That'll be the magic," you half smiled.

He shook his head, thumb tilting your chin up. "No. It's you."

Before he knew it, he was leaning in, lips ghosting yours, almost like a question. And you responded, hands sliding over his shoulders, leaning into him. Your breasts were pressed against his chest, and the sensation sent him reeling.

You were nothing short of enchanting.

Lips moving, he could feel the magic running through your veins. There was something electric in your touch, something about you that made him need you like water. It was like there was an ocean roaring inside you that he wanted to drown in.

His fingers grasped the ribbon around your neck, finding the pendant between your breasts and grasping it, using it to gently pull you closer. The ribbon untied, and fell from your neck.

Lips separating, you drew back, leaning your forehead to press against his. "Is this how you treat everyone who heals you?"

Billy was drunk off you, and he wanted another hit. "No." He chased your lips, catching them in another searing kiss. Splaying his fingers on your back, he found a fistful of your dress.

You let him kiss you lazily for a moment, lips dragging down to your neck, then your collarbone. Oh how he loved your collarbone. Nosing against it, he showered a series of soft kisses there.

Then he felt something brush against his leg. Pulling back, he looked down to find a black cat purring as it pawed at his shin. You followed his eyes, smiling slightly. "Sorry...that's Fish. He likes people."

Keeping the hand holding your pendant around your waist, Billy reached the other hand down and scratched Fish's head. "'S alright. Seems like a good fella'."

He could feel you watching him interact with the cat, and you didn't sway your eyes when he lifted his own to meet them. Smiling, he leaned in, pecking your lips once, then twice. That made you smile in turn, and you nudged your nose against him, hands on the sides of his face.

Noticing he was holding your pendant, you uncurled his fingers, tracing the shape of it against his palm. It was an oval, framed by gold. There were three little stars in the center, and you touched each one before folding his fingers over it again. "Keep it."

Billy looked up at you again. "You-?"

Both your hands came to clasp around his. "It's a witch's symbol. How we know each other. But I've been here for weeks and haven't found anybody. And I'm not going to find a successor. Keep it."

He wanted to protest the hopelessness of the statement, your resignation to the fact that you'd be weighed under your powers forever. But you seemed determined.

So, he intertwined your fingers, the pendant pressing between palms. Then he lifted them to his lips, kissing your knuckles. A promise to keep it safe.

Billy kissed your nose, and then breathed, "D'ya feel it?" The pulsing hypnotism that overwhelmed him whenever he looked at you, that sensation that he knew wasn't just the magic residing within you.

You traced runes into the skin of his cheek, pressing your lips there when you were done. "I feel it. This is real power."

Next part

#billy the kid #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid fanfiction #billy the kid x you #william h bonney x reader #william h bonney fanfiction #william h bonney x you #billy bonney #billy the kid imagine #billy the kid 2022 #william h bonney #william h bonney imagines #william h bonney imagine #billy the kid fanfic #milliesfishes billy

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