#bob ran is my favourite | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

enderpearlll · 1 year

Text

Yandere!Bob Velseb - My Favourite Employee. PT 5.

This is it, the (possible) final part to My Favourite Employee. I have no clue if there’ll be another part, I’m still debating on it. Thank you all so much for the support, the love and anticipation is very much appreciated! Hopefully this is a moderately satisfactory end!

Gender-neutral reader, but pet names such as sweet pea and and darling are used.

TW/CW: Yandere content, emetophobia (vomiting), harsh language, murder, stalking, vivid descriptions of paranoia and anxiety, etc…

The name tag sat there on the countertop, shining in the light. Your coworkers name was engraved on it's surface, mocking you as you stared dead at it.

•... No. No, it couldn't be. It was probably a joke, right? A sick joke, Bob usually did make morbid jokes and told you weird stuff, it just had to be. You felt your blood run cold, your heart pounding out of your chest. "...B—Bob? What is this?" You asked, your voice cracking with fear. Bob chuckled lightly, like this was such a casual conversation. "The main ingredient, sweet pea."

•... And then you hurled onto the checkered floor, emptying out the contents of your stomach. No, no, no, no, no— This couldn't be happening. You fell onto the floor, clutching onto your arms and clawing into your skin as hard as you could. You felt like you were going to pass out, the room spinning around you. Bob gasped and ran around the counter and kneeled beside you, rubbing your back and brushing your hair away from your face.

• "Aw, you feelin' sick sweet pea? Don't worry, I'm here!" Bob smiled at you, his cheeks rosy and his eyes full of joy. He wrapped his arms around you, making you erupt with another bout of nausea. You slowly turned to face him, a blank look in your eyes. "Get. The. FUCK AWAY FROM ME!" You screamed, pushing yourself away and struggling to get to your feet. Bob was obviously hurt by your choice of words, slowly standing to his full height.

• "Aw, darlin', don't be that way... I did it for ya, I did it for us!" He chimed, holding his arms out towards you. "You're my favourite employee, how can I not do everything for ya?" You were petrified, everything clicking together in your head. The pet names, the affection, the favouritism... You started hyperventilating and stumbling backwards, shaking your head in disbelief. You trusted him, he was your friend—!

And now he was a monster.

• Bob's grin faltered as you quickly turned around, barreling into the kitchen. You glanced around and noticed the freezer, diving towards the door. You tried tugging and pulling on the latch, but it wouldn't budge. It was locked. Bob came through the doorway seconds after you, betrayal in his eyes. "S—Sweet pea, what are ya doin'...?" You cussed underneath your breath and stood there petrified as Bob stalked closer, approaching you like you were made of porcelain.

• He leaned out to caress your cheek, his touch as gentle as ever. But you slapped his hand away as tears welled in your eyes, clenching your jaw shut. "D—Don't touch me!" You yelled, before grabbing an empty crate and slamming it into the side of his head. Bob let out a scream of pain, falling onto his side as he groaned in pain. "D—Darlin'..." You dropped the crate and made a break for it, dashing out of the kitchen and into the hallway which led to a staff room and Bob's office.

• The staff room was always closed at night, since Bob made the rounds before you all started to clean. The only option was the office, so you took your chances and slammed into the door, which flew open sending you barreling to the floor. You winced in pain as you slammed the door, locking it behind you. You took a creaky old chair and propped it up against the doorknob, hoping that it would keep Bob out. You glanced around, having never seen the inside of his office before. The lights flickered on and off, obviously neglected. The security cameras were on as well.

• You tried to get off your ass and grabbed at the desk for support, but you couldn't get a good grip because of the piles of pictures on the desk. You accidentally sent some fluttering to the floor, landing on your behind again. The pictures landed around you, grabbing your attention. You grabbed one, which was a picture of you outside. Your eyes widened as you snatched another, which was you taking out the garbage. What the hell?

• You quickly stood up, glancing around the tiny office. There was a whole wall full of the creepy polaroid pictures, all of which were you. There was you sleeping, eating, walking, in public... You would probably puke again if you didn't already throw up your only meal of the day. All of them had dates scribbled in red ink, strung up with red string. and you turned around to see that there was even more photos on the desk.

• You tried to dig through the drawers, hoping to find a weapon or anything to use against him but what you found was nowhere near what you wanted to see. Your stuff, all the things that went missing over the last few weeks were in the drawers. Old toothbrushes, favourite clothes, used bandages, even more pictures... All of the drawers contained your stuff, nearly full to the brim of your belongings.

• You stared at the piles of stuff in the desk, and then at the cork board full of pictures on the other wall. This time, it wasn't pictures of you. It was of the people you knew and talked to, with some of them slashed with big red X's. You took a closer look and saw that those select few were ones of the missing people. Your coworker was the one of them. Same with the creepy guy, and the grocery clerk... You covered your mouth with a trembling hand when you noticed the cracked screen of your coworkers phone on the desk.

Bob was the one who killed them, he was the one who was stalking you, and he made you eat the remains of your coworker. This all felt like some sick nightmare that you wished you would wake up from already.

• You had to call the police, and quick. You quickly glanced over the cameras, and you saw that Bob was looking for you in the main area. You had enough time to make a call, and maybe enough time to find a weapon. So you looked for a phone, which was a old ancient phone buried underneath photos. You quickly dialled the police station, muttering 'please pick up' over and over underneath your breath.

• A gruff voice answered the call, obviously overtired. "Hello. Police station." You nearly cried in relief hearing his voice. "H—Hello? Yes, my name is..." You explained everything that you've seen, and that you had a major lead on where the missing people may be. You just hoped that they weren't all dead, like... You let a few tears fall, biting back a sob. "Please, you've got to believe me." You asked, your voice barely above a whisper. The police officer was heard hollering for his partner before returning to the call.

• "Don't worry, we're on our way." And the call was ended with a click. You let out a sob of relief, wiping your eyes with your sleeve. Now, you just had to find a weapon—! *SLAM!*... Oh no.

• You looked at the hallway camera, mouth agape when you saw that Bob was at the door. This was it, this was where you died. By the hands of your obsessed boss who was stalking you for weeks, the source of all your paranoia. You screamed when he slammed his fist on the door, his voice echoing from the speaker and through the door.

"Sweet pea, don't do this to me! You're all I live for!" Hearing him say that made you sick. Bob had taken lives for you, which meant he wasn't kidding when he said he would do anything for you. You huddled in the corner, praying to whatever god was up there that you would make it out alive. Bob kept pounding on the door, getting more and more frantic.

• "GODDAMNIT SWEET PEA, OPEN THIS DAMN DOOR!" He screamed at the top of his lungs, your heart skipping a beat. You never thought you'd see the day where Bob would get angry at you. You stared at the cameras, watching as Bob braced himself to charge into the office. You prepared yourself, shielding your face and sliding down the wall. The door slammed open, the chair flying to the ground. Bob towered above you, chest heaving up and down.

• You could barely see his expression, but you could tell that he was staring down at you and grinning wide. His eyes were wide with a mania you thought that you'd never see coming from a man that called himself your so called protector. Bob's eyes were wild and glistening with infatuation, his demeanour changing immediately once he saw you cowering away from him.

• "Darlin'... You ain't scared of me, ain't ya?" Bob said, his voice tender as he stared down at you. You swallowed thickly, tears falling down your face as you looked down and shielded yourself from him. He kneeled down in front of you, a small smile on his face. "Please, talk to me..." He reached towards you, but you had immediately flinched away. Bob's face dawned with a look of pure terror when you flinched away from his touch, a quiet sob wracking through you.

• "No, no, no, sweet pea... I didn't mean to scare ya, honest—" The sound of a pistol cocking interrupted Bob's rambling, making you both snap your attention to the culprit. Two of the police officers had stood in the doorway, guns pointed at Bob. The taller one gestured at Bob then at the other officer, and the former nodded at him in return. "Bob Velseb, you are under arrest. Put your hands up."

• Bob slowly craned his neck to stare at the officers then back at you, betrayal clear on his face. "... Sweet pea? Y—You're not gonna let them take me, right?" You bit your lip and cowered further into the corner, watching as Bob's hands started to tremble. "No, no, no, no, no, sweet pea, you can't do this to me—" Bob begged, grabbing your hands and pulling them towards himself, tugging you closer.

• "Please, you can't let them take them take me away from ya— Darlin', listen to me—!" Bob pleaded, but you only shook your head as the officers grabbed him by his shoulders and pulled him to his feet. Bob fought against them, his gentle demeanour quickly fading into anger. "GET OFFA ME—! NO! SWEET PEA!" Bob had launched his fist into the face of the moustached officer, who's nose broke with a sickening crack. Blood spilled everywhere, making you grimace.

• "Well, you might as well call for that backup now that we have it Jack!" The shorter officer shouted at the taller one, his voice nasally as he tried to keep Bob from getting to you. Jack had cringed and said "Oh yeah." In return, pressing a button on his walkie talkie. Other officers had come storming in, much more equipped for the job than both Jack and John. Bob was still struggling, fighting with all of his might against three officers and hollering at them. "DON'T TOUCH 'EM, YOU SICK PIGS!"

• Bob looked at you one last time, a strained grin on his face. "I—I'll be back for ya, sweet pea, I swear on it!" You shivered under his intense gaze, glancing back at Jack and John, who were currently trying to avoid getting blood all over the evidence. "I promise ya, we'll be happy again, I love you, sweet pea—" And with that, the backup team of officers dragged him away, his screaming still heard from outside of the restaurant.

• Both Jack and John had helped you get off of the floor, examining the room and staring at the wall full of photos. They both collectively shared a wide-eyed look before looking back at you with shock. You all couldn't believe that you were all alive. "Um... You'll have to come to the station, by the way." The taller officer said, handing John another tissue. "Oh wow, you think?" John said bitterly, holding a cluster of tissues underneath his crooked nose.

• You took one final glance at the security cameras, and Bob was staring dead into the camera at the front of the building, an impossibly wide grin on his face. You felt an overwhelming amount of emotions hit you all at once, falling to the ground again and staring at your shaking hands. This was it, this was the end of this nightmare.

You could only hope that was the last you would see of that smile.

(But will it be? Lol I have no clue if there'll be a part 6 so... maybe.)

#yandere headcanons #yandere blog #yandere fic #yandere x reader #yandere bob velseb #yandere spooky month #yandere writing #yandere x you #spooky month #spooky month x reader #yandere #bob velseb #bob velseb x reader #my favourite employee

1K notes · View notes

ohtobeleah · 2 years

Text

Hopelessly Devoted // Bob Floyd

Summary: After Bob gets back from Miramar, he makes a B-line straight for your doorstep. Holding himself together just barely.

Warnings: Angst. mentions of mental health. Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x reader. No use of Y/n.

Word Count: 3k

Author Note: Listen, this isn’t my favourite piece but it was just sitting in my drafts and I thought it may as well be shared.

The fall season always brought you much delight. The smell of pumpkin spice from your seasonal candles filled your home. Seasonal decor ranging from ceramic pumpkins to throw pillows that said ‘boo’ and ‘beware’ made your house feel very much like a home. The sound of gentle rain falling outside mixed with the soon to be full onset thunderstorm—rolling in slowly as the claps of thunder grew more aggressive every few minutes.

Lightning lit up all the windows of your living room as you sat curled up with your study notes. Preparing for your assessments. A bachelors in mechanical engineering had your name on it. Soon you hoped to work aboard some of the Navy’s patrol boats. A small stepping stone to where you’d like to end up one day. But for now? You’d do the work.

A gentle knock against your front door broke you from your concentration. You weren’t expecting a visitor this late. Not at ten thirty on a Sunday night. When you heard the gentle knock again your heart leapt from your chest. Jumping up as your papers fell from your lap. Now discarded on the floor in a pile.

“It’s me—“ Bob cooed, his forehand resting against your door as his knuckles softly knocked against your door. As you swung the door open, Bob stumbled in. His uniform absolutely drenched, waterlogged as all hell from the ran that had settled in nicely. His glasses slipped down the bridge of his nose as he dropped his duffel bag. Instantly letting the weight of the world fall off his shoulders as he brought you into a tight hug. His arms encapsulated you over your shoulders. “Hey—“ Bob mumbled as he rest his chin against the top of your head. Holding you in his arms.

“What are you doing here!?” You questioned as you hugged Bob back. His head was now in the crook of your neck as he crouched, letting you off the ground for a moment. Gentle sobs escaped as Bob broke in your arms, his legs felt weak. He put you down and pulled back, Bob took a deep breath in as he pushed his glasses up his nose. “You weren’t supposed to be back till tomorrow afternoon! I was gonna come pick you up and everything!” You questioned.

“Yeah well, I just needed to see you, now—“ Bob admitted. Robert Floyd had been your best friend since the second grade. Some days it was still hard to wrap your head around the idea that the same kid who cried on multiple occasions after finding out bees only sting once then they die, was a weapons systems officer for the Navy—and a damn fine one at that. “Missed you.” It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for Bob to turn up at your door after deployment, but this felt different. Something was off. “Just—“ You could hear it in the cracks in his voice, saw it in the way he held his lips tight to keep his emotions in check. “I just, I just needed to see you.” You kept Bob grounded, and after everything that had happened. The accident, the mission? He could feel himself pulling back from reality.

“You wanna come inside? Have a shower?” You cooed. “I’ll make you a cup of tea.” You smiled softly, grabbing Bob's duffel as he followed you inside. He took in the smell of pumpkin spice, it instantly reminded him that he was home. He was safe. He could relax. Pumpkin spice always reminded him of you—like a warm hug. “I won’t sugar coat though, you look like hell.” You sighed. “You wanna talk about it or—?” walking up the stairs with a huff as you carried Bob’s duffel. Unnecessarily heavy as you asked Bob a question he wasn’t sure what the answer was. He broke it down the best he could as he followed right behind you. Like a lost puppy.

“I look like shit but at least my shirt doesn’t say ‘welcome to the ‘Boo Bunker.” Bob teased. “I haven’t slept since I got off Leyte Gulf.” Bob couldn’t. He’d tried, but the sound of surface to air missiles rang in his head, exploding without warning or rhythm. “And no, not particularly, I feel like a bag of ass.” Sighing, Bob ran his hands down his cheeks in dismay.

“It would be rude of me to agree.” you smirked, handing Bob a fresh towel from your linen cupboard. You missed him. Too much. “Go have a warm shower, have you told your mum and dad you're here yet?” Bob shook his head no in response. Omitting a gasp you shoved his chest softly—with enough force to have Bob letting out a hiss. “Robert Floyd, your mother will kill me if I Harbor you here and she doesn’t know!“ In the very same breath you also noticed Bob's uncomfortable expression. “What, what’s wrong?” You questioned, puzzled as to why Bob's hand lingered on his shoulder.

“It’s nothing—promise.” Bob let his hand settle on the small of your back, drawing you in as he pressed a soft and subtle kiss against your forehead. Closing your eyes you took a mental picture of the moment. “I’ll let my mother know I’m home tomorrow, like I was supposed to be.” Bob reminded you. “She’d only worry more if she knew I was home early.”

“Does that mean I should be worried?” There was a reason why you and Bob had never really settled into a conventional relationship. He thought it would be selfish to ask you to worry constantly whenever he was deployed. Bob loved his job. But he loved you more, and he couldn’t bring himself to ask you to sacrifice piece of mind for him. Looking at you loving, Bob cupped your cheeks, the pad of his right thumb gently rubbed your cheek. Drinking in the sight of the only women he’d ever love. “Ro—“

“You never have to worry about me” he whispered. His eyes roaming every inch of your face. “Don’t worry about me, please—for the love god, don’t spend a second worrying.”

“Yeah well just because you say don’t worry, that doesn’t mean I don’t.” You replied sharply, Bob dropped his hands as you looked at him softly. Eyes so full of love and admiration for him. He could recognise the look because it mimicked his own. There was always an understanding, that underlying unambiguously love between the two of you. But to act on it would be selfish, at least in Bob's mind. He was never sure which mission or basic deployment might be his last. He knew he evaded death by inches this time round and boy it had him spooked.

“Anyway—“ you sighed. “You’re drenched and must be freezing, I don’t often bring strays into my home so you better go have a shower before I change my mind.” Bob raised his eyebrows at your attitude. Your clothes were slightly damp themselves from the hug he’d drawn you into at your doorstep, but nothing like his.

“You’re kinda rude sometimes—“ Bob snickered, walking past as he made his way to the bathroom. “Be out in a sec—“ shutting the door but choosing not to lock it. Looking at himself in the mirror Bob hissed as he undid his uniform buttons. His shoulder still stiff. Nothing technically wrong, just surface bruises that looked worse than what they were. A stiff right shoulder that had him using way too much deep heat.

“Shit—“ Bob hissed as he threw his shirt into a pile, working to unbuckle his belt. Knocking before you stuck your head in Bob felt like a deer in headlights. Speechless. He knew in that very second what was to come.

“I forgot to mention there’s a box under the cabinet with some random suppl—“ your heart sank as you took in the bruises, dark and littering Bob's torso. Opening the door completely, your eyes welled with tears. “Oh my god.” You cupped your mouth. Shock oozing from you as you stepped closer. Reaching out to trace the bruises that covered Bob's right pec. Your touch left Bob’s skin littered with goosebumps. An undeniable reaction to attraction.

“I promise it looks worse than it really is—“ Bob mumbled. His hand softly guiding you, tilting your chin up to catch your gaze. “I’m okay—“

“You and I both know you’re a bad liar, what in the hell happened?” Your mind ran through a million scenarios.

“Phoenix, my front seater and I had a training mishap.” Bob explained. “We have to eject—“

“EJECT!” You gasped. “BOB I’m literally you’re emergency contact why didn’t anyone call me!!” You panicked.

“I told them not to! I was fine! I mean I am fine!” Bob cupped Your cheeks holding you still as explained himself, god he hated the way your eyes watered. “Ejecting is just hard on the body, and my landing wasn’t all that gracious.” He’d blacked out after tumbling a few times. Hence all the bruises. It wasn’t something he was going to mention—and Bob was certainly going to omit that fact he had to use his secondary shoot.

“You ejected from your plane and didn’t call me?” You shook Bob's hands from your cheeks, stepping back as Bob stood before you, his belt in his hand, his fly half done up. Shirtless. His muscles popping, bigger than you remembered. More defined and toned.

“I didn’t want to worry you!” You scoffed out a sarcastic chuckle in response to Bob's reasoning.

“Oh my god you self righteous asshole—“ shaking your head in defeat. “ I’m going to worry about you! I do worry about you, Bob. I worry about you every second of every damn day and there is nothing and I mean nothing you can do to stop me because me worrying is me caring and I care too much about you to lose you!” You felt like you couldn’t breathe. “I mean look at you it looks like you’d been—you—you’ve been.”

“Ejected from a F-18?” Bob finished your sentence as you let your tears fall freely down your cheeks. Chuckling softly, you gave Bob a look.

“Yes, it looks like you were ejected from an F-18 and I hate that you were!” Bob closed the gap between the two of you, taking your hand to rest it on his chest. “If something ever happened to you I wouldn’t know how to coup—not telling me, not letting me in? It’s wicked, it’s cold-hearted and it’s cruel.” You didn’t take your eyes off Bob for a second as you leaned against him. The gap none existent. “It’s entirely keeping with this self sacrificing righteousness that you Navel men seem to have. It’s ruthless to shut the people out who care about you because in some twisted way you believe you’re doing us all a favour.”

“I’m okay—“ you could feel his heartbeat as Bob spoke softly, his voice deep, his eyes serious, his slight southern accent music to your ears. “I’m not just saying that, I mean it—it’s all surface layers.” You called Bobs bluff instantly as he tried to reassure you he was fine. He wasn’t fine, you could tell by the way he held you at your front door that he was thankful to have to opportunity to hold you again. That’s how much he wasn’t fine—because you could tell.

“How close?” You asked just above a whisper. Bob wanted to pretend like he didn’t know what you were talking about, but he knew. Looking up over your head he shook his head. Eyes watering. Voices he couldn’t get rid of ripping his head apart. Pounding on his skull.

“Phoenix break right! Break—“

“Rooster , two more on your six!”

“Dagger two defending!”

“Payback, same on your nose!”

“Dager one defending.”

“Rooster, tally, tally.”

“Talk to me Bob!”

“On our six!”

“Phoenix break right!”

“I don’t know what you mean?” Bob met your gaze. It was written all over his face.

“This was the one wasn’t it?” You could barely raise your voice above a whisper as the realisation set in. Robert Floyd almost didn’t come home to you. “Bo—“ Bob didn’t let you finish, his lips crashing into yours in some desperate attempt to keep your head from filling with scenarios about his untimely death. His hands cupping your cheeks, his body pressed to yours as he backed you up against the vanity. Gently hosting you up as he broke away—leaving you seeing stars. Lips tingling as your eyes traced every inch of his face.

“It could have been the one, but it wasn’t—“ Bob panted, his chest rising and falling as he stood between your legs, draping down his sides. “It wasn’t and I’m here and I don’t want to think about it because the more I think about it the deeper I fall in and I’m scared I won’t be able to pull myself out.” You let the silence linger for a moment as tears ran down Bob's face. Wiping them away softly you pressed your lips together in a solemn smile.

“If you don’t talk about it, it’ll be what kills you—“

“Don’t Dr.Phil me.” Bob hissed.

“You didn’t come here to be coddled!” You hissed back, snapping as you felt Bob's hand snake along the small of your back. As close as he could be.

“I came here because you were the only person, and I mean the only person who was on my mind when I was sure I wasn’t coming home.” Bob admitted. “I’m in love with you, I always have been and I can’t bring myself to ask you to say it back.” Bob let his forehead rest against yours. “And I’m so beyond grateful I was given the chance to live long enough to tell you I love you.”

It was something that you never thought you’d hear Bob admit but it was even harder to admit to yourself you would have waited a lifetime and then some. Hopelessly devoted.

“I know I don’t bring much to the table, I’m—just—“ you didn’t let him finish, no. You crashed your lips against Bobs. Teeth slightly grazed his as you deepened it. Tongues dancing as you moaned ever so gently into Bob’s mouth. Fuck he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think. All he could do was savour the moment.

“You are everything I’ve ever wanted, what’s a girl gotta do to make you see that huh?” You asked as you pulled away. Leaning back against the mirror as Bob’s hands traced unidentified objects into your thighs. Sighing in defeat you opted to put yourself. “I love you, Bob I really do—“

“But?” Bob questioned, his heart racing. Trying to read you like he usually could, an open book.

“But you can’t shut me out if we do this?” You pleaded. “You gotta let me in, talk to me, let me worry, tell me when things are bad, when you’re bad! God—“ you paused, tears welling in your eyes once again. “I’d hate to think you were fine and the next day you’re just—gone.” Bob hadn’t really realised when the last time he really opened up was. He’d stopped in order to be less of a handful, and above all wanted people to worry less. Guess doing that was really causing the opposite to happen. “I need to know that when things are bad? They’re bad. And when things are good, they’re great.”

“Deal—“ Bob cooed. “Deal.” Kissing your temple Bob smirked against your skin. “I’ll have a shower, then we’ll talk? About everything.” You nodded, sighed as you slid off the vanity.

“I’ll make you that cup of tea—“ you said softly, the atmosphere around you and Bob heavy with emotion. “Take you time.” It was almost as if you didn’t believe Bob would let you in, you had felt him pulling away but you hadn’t realised just hard far you let him fall behind. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, the way you wanted to leave but your feet wouldn’t move. The way you picked at the skin around your nails when you were nervous.

“You could stay, if you wanted to?” Bob smirked, his thumbs tucking into the waistband of his trousers. “I’ve uh—I can’t say I haven’t thought about you before.” Bob admitted as he stepped closer, watching as you didn’t move a muscle. “You’ve thought about me, haven’t you?” Kissing your neck softly you let your eyes roll in the back of your head as a just audible moan escaped.

“Now's not the right time—“ you tried to keep your composure. Bob pulled away to look at you one final time.

“Will there ever be a right time?” He whispered, his hand coming to push the hair that had fallen around your face behind your ear. “This is it for me, you’re it for me—always have been.” Bob cooed.

“You should have called me—“ you sobbed, dashing into Bob with so much force it sent him stumbling as he fumbled to get a grip on your waist. So much passion in your words, Bob knew it would be a long overdue conversation when you were finished. “Don’t you ever do that again—!” Pulling your shirt above your head Bob couldn’t breathe, was this really about to happen? Stepping into the shower you reached behind Bob, blasting the water as he stripped his trousers off. Still desperately kissing you as he did so. “I wanna know when you get a damn paper cut! Understand?” You hissed, pulled back as you pushed Bob under the stream of warm water—instantly soothing his battered and bruised skin. Pulling you into him as you shed your pyjama pants.

“Yes ma’am-“

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

#bob floyd angst #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun bob #lewis pullman #robert floyd x reader #robert bob floyd #robert #bob #bob floyd fic

1K notes · View notes

2chopsticks2eyes · 9 months

Note

Don't mind tho, just watched that skz code when they have to solve puzzles in a haunted school, and during hyunjin's turn to go alone, both han and minho go there to scare him . and i've been recently on my dark hours..

so my mind came up with a scenario where MC is in a haunted house with her friends, she's not a scary cat...unless she's alone there. that's when she's the most vulnerable.and minsung have the wonderful idea to put on some masks and play a game of cat-and-mouse with her inside the house, purposedly getting her lost and far from the group. they corner her in empty rooms, sneak behind her, come out of dark corners, but their favourite is definitely making her run while they chase her and she can't see them

the chase, her fear, the adrenaline of it, they enjoy it more than they should, making them consider if they perhaps have a predator kink they didn't know about.

i leave the rest up to you, my friend~

Oh Baby, How You Haunt Me So...

They feel alive when they see her cowered in the corner of the empty room, the sound effects of the haunted house drowning out the noise in the background.

Once they are satisfied that they have her trapped, they remove their masks to show off their predatory glares, eyes drinking in her body in pure carnal hunger.

You are surprised it's them, but you can't shake the feeling of self-preservation with those expressions they directed at you. "M-Minho? Jisung? Wha--"

"No." Minho cut you off. They both slowly narrowed in on you and you suddenly felt extremely small.

"Look how scared she is, poor baby." Jisung cooed condescendingly.

"What do you think we should do with her, jagi?" Minho said to his boyfriend, speaking as if you weren't even there.

Jisung grinned from ear to ear in a frightening display of pure threat. "What shouldn't we do with her?" He said with a voice an octave lower than usual and your core stirred.

"I-" You couldn't even get two words out before Jisung pulled you forward and was attacking your mouth viciously. You felt Minho circle around the back of you and immediately slipped his hand up your shirt and bra to roughly grope your breast while sloppily kissing and biting your neck.

You felt your panties quickly becoming useless as they soaked up your juices. You arched your back and wrapped your arms around Jisung before he began vehemently clawing your jeans off of you and throwing them in the corner. "Fuck, hyung, she's so fucking wet..." Jisung growled against your lips as he rubbed your clit over your soiled underwear.

You suddenly felt a hand between your legs from behind you and felt another finger rubbing your panties just over your entrance. You whined at the combined feeling and Minho twisted your nipple hard. "Be quiet or we will stuff your pretty throat." Minho hissed against your ear.

That was when they simultaneously slipped your panties to the side and ran their fingers through your folds, Jisung instantly going at your clit rapidly as Minho plunged two fingers in and began pumping in you. "Fuck yes!" You gasped and threw your head back at the delectable feeling.

You abruptly felt yourself being knocked to your knees as Jisung quickly pulled his rock-hard cock out of his pants and sat on the ground in front of you. You felt a hard body press against your backside and grab your jaw. "You were warned." Minho said as he turned your head to messily kiss you and then pushed you down to have Jisung gain purchase of your head.

"I have other uses for that mouth, darling." Jisung growled with a cocky grin. That was when you were being pulled down to wrap your lips around his fat cock.

When you started bobbing your head, you whined when you felt Minho rub the head of his throbbing dick through your folds before slamming himself against your cervix, causing you to gag on his cock.

While you were being pounded from behind and your head being forced to swallow dick, you had a thought.

This was NOT what I expected out of this haunted house but... you couldn't necessarily complain...

My bitches:

@lyramundana

@channieandhisgoonsquad

@sweetracha

@moonlightndaydreams

@noellllslut

#sorry it's not longer #I have a wip to work on #poly minsung

156 notes · View notes

obitohno · 2 years

Text

friend-zoned

hanma, draken, taiju, kazutora, sanzu, ran, rindou, nahoya, kokonoi, izana

synopsis ⤸

after two long years of being stuck in the friend-zone, you decide that you’ve had enough.

themes ⤸

fem! reader, 18+, smut, friends to lovers, mutual pining, nipple play, inverted nipples, reader with small breasts, rough sex, creampies, cowgirl, the dragon, size kink, size difference, first kiss, first time

word count ⤸

4.8k (unedited)

a/n ⤸

so, this is my first ever tokyo revengers au, yayay! i've only ever written in second person once before (for ao3), but i really wanted to give it another try bc i want to create more x reader fics, as they're my favourites to read... i hope that i did an okay job this time, n i really hope that you guys enjoy the read! tbh, although this can apply to any of those listed above, when i was writing, i actually had one character in mind, so it'd be interesting if you guys can guess which one :')

reblogs are appreciated ~

the friend-zone is a place reserved for those poor, pathetically unfortunate souls that are either pitied or ridiculed by their peers, and it is a place that he’d never thought that he’d ever fall victim to. but, on the day that he met what he can only describe as both the light and the bane of his existence—yes, you—the world had clearly decided that it was high time that he should be humbled for the first time in his life. and, so, for the past two years, the friend-zone is the place of which he’s been subject to, much to his chagrin, and one that he’s yet to escape. at first, he thought that you were just utterly clueless to the effect that you have on him, and he even went as far as to blame it on the fact that it’s just been fucking forever since he last got laid. but the more comfortable you grew around him, the less and less you seemed to view him as a man. and he was loathe to admit that that thought had sucker-punched his ego straight into next year. didn’t you know just how crazy you drove him whenever you greeted him at the door of your apartment, dressed in nothing but a pair of shorts and a scrap of fabric that he thinks is supposed to pass off as some sort a crop top? and surely you aren’t that oblivious to his gaze burning into the surface of your skin when he follows you inside, to the slow bobbing of the lump in his throat as he breathes in the scent of your home—of you—to the lazy crawl of the lopsided smirk that tilts the corner of his mouth every time you greet him?

no, he surmises. you must be doing it on purpose.

right now, the two of you are lounging in the living room after inhaling a hot bowl of soup, one that he’d reluctantly consumed after you’d insisted that it’d be good to for him because it’s cold outside when he’d turned his nose up when you told him what was on the menu for tonight. it most definitely wasn’t because he’d weakened at the sight of the downward tilt of your lips, for fuck’s sake, who the fuck did you think he was? still, his stomach is now warm with the heat of the spice that you’d used to season the broth, and he won’t admit it aloud, but you were right; it was good for him.

you’re rambling away next to him, something about sarah-the-office-bitch-from-work, but, truthfully, he’s not listening to a word, having already zoned out a good ten minutes ago. he’s too busy staring at your mouth, offering a low hum here and there whenever you pause to check for his reaction, his eyelids heavy as they slowly blink down toward the shadow of your collarbone.

‘you’re not listening,’ he hears the mild annoyed bite in your accusation. he manages a grin.

‘sorry, doll,’ he drawls, not sounding very sorry at all, far too tired to conjure a lie to placate you. you huff something undecipherable under your breath, shifting to cross your arms over your chest, which only serves to amplify the curve of your small bust as the modest-sized mounds are pushed upward. he’s not even trying to hide the way he stares at you—and for once, you take notice of the tense clenching of his jaw, a low breath exhaling from his nose.

his name is whispered between the small gap between you, and fuck, when had he leaned closer? his mouth is dry, despite him swallowing once, twice, thrice, for fuck’s sake, he needs a drink or something. but just as he’s leaning out of reach and making to stand from the settee, your hand catches the curve of his wrist, holding him still. his eyes meet yours, and to his absolute bafflement, the colour of your irises have darkened significantly. your cheeks are a little flushed, but he can’t tell if it’s from the spice in the soup, or if it’s because you’ve some kind of epiphany and finally realised that you want him just as much as he wants you.

god, he fucking hopes that it’s the latter.

and for a long, painfully quiet moment, you both stare at one another. your tongue darts out to parch your dry lips, and he’s almost embarrassed by how quickly his eyes snap to follow the motion before the muscle disappears from view once more.

neither of you are sure of who moves first.

his mouth is following after that tongue of yours, and when you next inhale, your breath is shared with his. the kiss is anything but sweet; it’s a feverish battle that has you moaning down his throat when his tongue presses against yours. he responds just as eagerly, long fingers tangling into the tresses of your hair, and tugging you closer until you’re panting against his lips. he’s just as breathless as you are, and once again, he’s humbled by the strain that his work trousers are suddenly subject to. but, he’s too busy with his mouth to feel embarrassed by how quickly his cock hardens between his legs—that, and he’s also too fucking horny to find it in him to actually give a shit.

at some point, he’s so distracted by the taste of the inside of your mouth that he fails to realise that your hands are slowly pressing to the meat of his thighs and eagerly gliding toward that spot that is rapidly warming with each heated sigh and gasp that is shared between the both of you. it isn’t until the palm of your hand actually slides over the bulge hidden under a thin layer of finely stitch linen that your lips part. he sucks in a sharp breath, and it is with every drop of self-restraint—and a tad sprinkle of regret—that he summons the strength to clasp your hand to halt your movements.

he doesn’t miss the grimace that dances across your face as you withdraw enough so that he can look at your face properly.

‘you don’t wanna do that, doll,’ he warns, voice hoarse as he shifts his left leg, daring to shoot a pitiful glare down at his own crotch. he hears you huff a short laugh, sounding everything other than amused. it’s a laugh that he already associates with the familiarity of your irritation. when his eyes drag over your features, it takes everything within him to avoid staring at your kiss-swollen lips. your gaze, although half hidden behind heavy eyelids that have dropped with the weight of his kisses, are ablaze with what he can only see as poorly veiled anger. in turn, the pettier sider of him can’t help but react with the same level of annoyance that is aimed towards him. ‘what you fuckin’ poutin’ for?’

somehow, your scowl deepens, marring the pretty features on your face.

‘just when i thought that you’d finally grown a pair.’

the words are viciously spat into the space between you, but before he fully processes what in the flying fuck you’d just said to him, you’re already jumping up from the settee. dumbly, he gawks as you snatch your empty bowls from the coffee table, pointedly ignoring him as you march from the room. his body is already moving before his brain catches up, and he’s following you into the kitchen. ‘the fuck d’you mean?’

it doesn’t take much to suspect that part of your anger is aimed toward the notion of being rejected. and if he wasn’t so pissed by your bratty attitude, he’d take you right back to that settee—or, more preferably, your bed—and finish what he’d started.

‘nothing,’ your tone is cold, your answer contradicted by the sound of you practically throwing the dishes into the sink. the ceramics clash together in a way that makes his teeth grit, followed by the distinct sound of something breaking once it hits the bottom of the sink.

‘nothin’?’ he grunts, repeating your answer. ‘sure don’t look like nothin’ to me.’

it’s the wrong thing to say.

you whirl on him, and you swipe a tea-towel from the kitchen surface and launch it across the room so roughly that it actually smacks him square in the face. he allows the offending fabric to drop unceremoniously to the ground and your eyes widen as his eyes slide shut, the corners of his mouth curling up into a vicious smile. the sight of it should make you feel even just a smidge of fear, but it only serves to cause your breath to hitch in the back of your throat, heat warming the inside of your underwear.

in truth, you had fallen for him almost immediately after your friendship began.

your meeting as an accidental romance-story-gone-wrong.

two years ago, you were rushing to work after in fear of being late after your train being held up that morning. and you’d ran into what you’d initially thought to be the most intimidating man you’d ever met, quite literally, head first. his coffee had actually left you with a minor burn scar on the inside of your thigh, and after he’d insisted on offering to replace your beverage-stained blouse, despite not falling in love and living happily-ever-after, the two of you somehow stayed in contact. it didn’t take long for you to fall for his charm that very few are accustomed to, and you like to think that you are now one of the few select people that are blessed with with a side of him that no others get to see.

and it wasn’t long before you began to notice him showing signs of mutual interest. at first, you’d been delighted whenever you noticed his heavy stare fixated onto you, and you only. you’d been shy, but hopeful when you’d catch his gaze lingering on the curve of your lips when you smiled at him, or when he humoured you enough to wrap his arms across your shoulders each time he left your apartment, despite him grumbling about his reputation every time he indulges you. and whilst you were happy, even if it meant that you’d never breach past the friendship stage, you also couldn’t help the disappointment that sunk deep down in your stomach every time he left without kissing you.

so when his lips had finally pressed against yours, when his hands had clung to you desperately, when your tongue had desperately tasted him just enough to engrave it deep within your tastebuds, when your fingers had felt just how much he wanted you; well, you were ecstatic.

except, you hadn’t expected to finally receive the attention that you’d been craving for the past two years, only to be rejected within the same breath. you must’ve done something truly horrific in a past life, you’d fumed as you’d marched your way into the kitchen, because you didn’t understand how you could be this unlucky.

yet, now, as you watch him exhale a long, low breath, before his eyes slowly peel open to stare down at you, you can’t help but hope that you’ve finally pushed him enough to snap.

and snap, he does.

he steps over the abandoned tea-towel, eyes glinting with something darker as they watch you swallow thickly. he chuckles, and then he says, ‘was tryna be nice to you, doll… makin’ sure you don’t do somethin’ you’ll regret.’

his eyes narrow down at you and he leans into your personal space, towering over your smaller frame until the countertop digs into the small of your back and you have to crane your neck to look him in the eye.

‘’m done playin’ nice.’

this is the only warning that you receive before two large hands are curling around the back of your thighs and you’re hoisted into the air so roughly that you can’t stop the shrill shriek that bursts past your lips when your abdomen meets the point of his shoulder. your heart lurches so rapidly that it feels like it’s thrumming inside your throat, but upside down like this, you are privy to an appealing eyeful of his toned backside. the jet black material of his trousers have evidently been tailored made to fit him snugly, and you certainly aren’t complaining about the view.

the ground moves below you, and as the tiled kitchen flooring gives away to a light beige carpet, you realise that he’s carried you into your bedroom. your stomach twists with anticipation, thighs clenched tightly together as you watch him kick the door shut behind him. suddenly, you’re falling, body bouncing on the mattress of your bed as you’re roughly deposited onto it. the motion makes your head spin, but you don’t have time to process it, as he’s suddenly on top of you, mouth claiming yours for the second time this evening. the weight of him pressing you into the mattress feels delicious and your fingers grip his hair, as you kiss him with everything you’ve got. pride fills you when his groan is bitten into your bottom lip, his hips jutting forward once, twice, clearly testing your boundaries. only when your legs widen to accommodate him, knees bending to curl your calves against his lower back, does he repeat the action, drawing a breath gasp from your mouth, which he’s quick to swallow down.

the last two years of back-and-forth, what-if’s and what he’d thought to be unrequited feelings, is quickly destroyed with each brush of your clothed cunt, and he relishes in the way his name is shakily whispered into the curve of his ear. your breath is hot on the side of his face, the sound of each broken breath forced from your lips making his cock throb so painfully that he wishes that you’d both undressed before he’d kissed you. with this thought, he places one short kiss on the curve of your cheek, and pulls away so suddenly that you flinch at the loss of his weight pressing you down into the mattress. his thumb drags across the hem of your shorts before his hand pulls away.

‘take ‘em off.’

he waits until you’ve pushed yourself upright before he climbs from the bed, hands already rushing to pull open the buttoning of his dress shirt. you move to stand before him, your movements not as rushed as his appear to be, but it’s mostly because your eyes are distracted, greedily taking in every inch of skin that is exposed to you. he’s almost naked by the time you gather enough wit about yourself to do as he’d told you. nerves and self-consciousness have you avoiding his gaze until you’re clad in nothing but the skin that you were born with.

when you look at him, he’s already sat at the edge of your bed, and your gaze zeros in on the fingers that are currently fisting his cock in a lazy upwards stroke as he watches you from where he sits. the lean muscles in his abdomen flex, and in turn, so do the inner muscles of your thighs as you press them together. once he realises that your attention is focused on the reddened tip that is leaking slick arousal down the ridges of his fingers, his bottom lips drags between his teeth and he beckons you over.

‘c’mere.’

you have to gall to look hesitant as you make your way over to him, hands making to reach up and cover your breasts in a pathetic attempt to protect your modesty. he scoffs at you, his free hand reaching out to tug your arms away, baring your entire body to his heated stare. he can’t help dragging his eyes over every inch of your body; he’s wanted this for a long time, and he’s sure as hell is going to make sure he makes the most of it whilst it lasts. and with this thought, his eyes roam over the gentle curves of your lithe form, hips narrower and breasts smaller than what society would deem as ‘attractive’, and yet the sight of the lightning streaks of your stretch marks, your puffy areola that surrounds two nipples—both of which are, to his pleasant surprise—inverted, make him ache for you. he sucks in a deep breath at the sight of them, cock twitching, hard against his abdomen. his fingers reach to trace the surface of your stomach, the corner of his mouth quirking when you breathe in sharply when he tickles your ribs. his fingers trace the shape of your left breast, watching as your chest begins to rise and fall a little faster.

with arousal, or anxiety, he’s unsure.

when his thumb brushes over your nipple, he’s taken aback by the lack of reaction. it must’ve shown on his face, because your expression drops into one of apprehension, and you lean back so that he’s no longer touching you.

‘they don’t…’ you trail off, looking down at your own chest, expression twisting into one that is a mixture of both self-loathing and disappointment. he doesn’t like that look on your face. but before he can voice it so, you clear your throat, ‘um… they’re inverted. but there’s not much sensation in them, so touching them doesn’t really do anything—’

he interrupts, ‘much sensation?’ you blink at him, allowing him to touch your skin again if only to appease his curiosity. ‘so you feel some stuff, right?’

you’re flustered, ‘well, yes. but like i said, touching them doesn’t do much, so it’s really not worth—’

he’ll decide what is or isn’t worth his time, thanks.

his lips are already curling around your nipple before you can finish your sentence. your words are cut off with a sharp intake of breath, and you shiver when hot air is exhaled from his nostrils, his tongue probing at your nipple. it tickles, but it isn’t until his teeth pinch where his tongue had traced, when you actually feel a dull throb of arousal from his ministrations. he hears the quiet moan that slips past your lips, and when he glances at your face, your eyes are closed, lips parted, a soft redness blessing your cheeks and the tips of your ears.

his moan is deep, low, and it vibrates across your breast, and you can’t help but moan along with him. his teeth are careful as they tug on your nipple, and with his attentions, the tip starts to protrude outwards. of course, having experimented by yourself before, this isn’t new to you. but when he eventually releases the abused skin, revealing a faint bruise that is starting to form, you allow him to indulge in his own smugness before he turns his attention to the other nipple. whilst doing so, his fingers tease the newly raised nub and your toes curl into the carpet, another moan echoed by the very man who is causing them.

by the time that you deem that he must be satisfied with his handiwork, you’re left a breathless mess, and you lean back so that your nipple pulls from between his lips with a wet pop! your eyes lower to where his fingers are curled around the base of his cock, and for the second time today, he watches as your tongue darts out to lick your lips. the girth is a little daunting, but considering how much bigger he is compared to you, you shouldn’t really be surprised that his cock is on the thicker side. still, despite the size, your mouth salivates at the sight of the vein that traces the entire length, disappearing under the swollen tip, just beneath the bundle of nerves that you’re itching to trace with your tongue.

but, as if he can read your thoughts, he chuckles from where his lips are pressing to the gap between your breasts. ‘not today, doll.’

and then, before you can protest, or even attempt to convince him to let you have just a taste, he’s pulling you onto his lap, his mouth dropping open when his cock slips between the dripping folds of your slit. you’re positive that he must feel the way your clit throbs for him, because in response, his length jerks and his hips cant upwards, his hands pressing you down to grind against you. his eyelids droop, heavy with wanton need, ‘so fuckin’ wet f’me.’

you keen, pressing your nose into the curve of his neck, grinding your hips in time with his thrusts. ‘a-all for you,’ you pant into his ear, and he’s holding you so tightly that you suspect that you’ll wake with bruises tomorrow. every ridge of his cock drags over your cunt, which drips messily all over him, a puddle already soaking the trimmed patch of dark hair that rests at the base of his erection. you would be embarrassed if he didn’t voice his approval in the form of a grunt, tongue lapping at your skin as he licks and sucks his way up the length of your neck. a particularly harsh bite to your collarbone has you yelping, and it almost ruins the blissful moment when he finally presses into you.

he enters in one, long stroke, his entire length gliding into your heat with ease, and he’s so dazed with the feeling of you that he belatedly remembers that he probably should’ve stretched you out with his fingers first. but you don’t seem to care, because you’re crying out as you rise up onto your knees, before dropping your hips back down, forcing him to empty and fill you over and over again. the stretch of his girth makes your insides ache, but it burns in a way that makes your toes curl with bliss.

‘f-fuck,’ he croons, one hand pressing to the mattress for balance, and the other, weaselling its way to your clit, rubbing tight fast circles in a bid to feel your gummy walls twitch and flutter and squeeze around him. ‘that’s it, baby, use my cock—hng, fuck—make this cock yours.’

‘m-mine,’ you whimper above him, nails digging into his shoulder blades as you cling onto him.

‘’s’right, babydoll, all fuckin’ yours,’ he agrees, moaning loudly when one harsh thrust has him stuttering on his own breath. ‘c-can you feel it, huh? look how hard i am—look what you do t’me.’ you feel him twitch inside you, the warmth of him pulsing from deep within your heat. your clit is caught between his thumb and the texture of his public hair, and you throb for him, already well on your way towards your release.

it is at this point that he decides that you’ve had enough of your fun, his hands holding tight to keep your hips still, before his thighs flex lower and his entire length springs free from the wet cavern of your cunt. your hole clenches, now empty, and a thick gloop of slick drips from between your legs. your orgasm is ruined, and you whine at the loss.

‘look at you,’ he coos, awed.

and then, he’s moving your body, positioning you so that you’re now laying with your stomach pressed to the sheets, your legs spread wide. you wait for him to press in above you, the heavy weight of him carefully lowered to your back. he rests on his forearms, but his entire body covers yours, and suddenly, you feel very small. the size difference is staggeringly obvious, and if the hitching of his breath is of any indicator, you’d say that he likes it just as much as you do. you mewl his name, and two, long fingers come to tuck under your chin, tilting your head toward your shoulder so that he can kiss you again.

it’s harder to kiss from this position, and your tongues battle messily, but soon enough, he’s entering you again, and you sob as he leaves no time for you to adjust before he sets a punishing pace. the room is soon filled with the wet sound of his pelvis repeatedly colliding with the soft meat of your backside, and you don’t have to look to know that your arousal is already soaking the sheets.

he’s loud like this, you quickly realise, and he’s moaning, babbling promises of what’s more to come in the future, praising the fact that your pretty little hole is made just for him. his cock batters your cunt and your dripping walls welcome him in with each thrust, and before long, your orgasm is gaining a powerful momentum. he chants your name like its his lifeline, and it’s with this that you realise he’s fast approaching his own peak, too.

long fingers curl a fistful of of your hair, tight enough that your scalp protests weakly as your neck stretches, baring itself for him to clamp his teeth onto the skin to mark you yet again. his thrusts become heavier, sloppier, faster, and the squelching clap of his balls slapping against your clit, and just like that, just like that, yes, yes, yes, gods, yes—!

you white out.

only for a second or two, but when you regain consciousness, it’s to the sound of his guttural shout of unfiltered, pure pleasure that ripples its way across his entire body and enters your cunt, painting it white with ropes of seed that spills on and on and on, until he collapses against your back with a strained murmur of your name. he nuzzles the crook where your shoulder meets your neck, and you lay there, struggling to catch your breath. your pussy is still throbbing with the aftermaths of your orgasm, and you can already feel the slow trickle of cum starting to spill from your hole, despite the fact that his length still claims its home within your inner walls.

it takes a good few minutes for the thrumming in your veins to quieten to a dull hum, and another five for him to move just enough to brush an open-mouthed kiss to your temple as you reach back to push the dampened strands of his hair back from his forehead. there’s a satisfied ache settling into your limbs and it forces a yawn out of your mouth. at this, he hums, pressing his lips to the crest of your cheek, and you squint at him from the corner of your eye when he manages to huff out a short, tired laugh.

‘you better not be fallin’ ‘sleep on me, doll,’ he warns, though his own voice betrays him, thickened with exhaustion. you turn to peek at him, your index finger tracing down the slope of his nose, a light dusting of pink staining the bridge. his eyes glaze over for a moment or two, before he blinks back to the present, and then the gentlest smile that you’ve ever seen graces his lips and the sight makes your stomach twist, pulse racing within your veins.

eventually, when you trust yourself to speak clearly, you tease your fingers between his own until they’re snaked together, and you say softly, ‘of course not.’

your answer makes something flash in his eyes, but you’re unable to decipher the meaning behind it, because suddenly, his girth slips free, along with the gush of your release that has mixed with his. he pushes his weight from your prone form, and as much as you enjoy having him crush you into the mattress, the relief on your back is instant. when you muster the energy to roll onto your side, his eyes are glued to the space between your legs, and if not for that tiny smile that softens his entire face, mortification would have made you blush from head-to-toe.

when you ignore the aching of your thighs to sit up properly, his hand shoots out to curl around your ankle, holding you in place. ‘where’d’ya think you’re goin’?’

he’s sat on his haunches, but he’s leaning over you again, easily reminding you of the size difference that turns you on more than you care to admit. his eyes are dark as they skim over your freshly-fucked body, previously unmarred skin now littered with new bruises and hickeys that you know will take all week to disappear. his smirk widens, but you can see that he’s not entirely unaffected, the pink blush still present, along with the hardened prick that bobs between his legs, yet to soften. he leans in close enough for his lips to steal another kiss from yours and you allow him to take you into his arms, whispering, ‘nowhere. i’m not going anywhere.’

something akin to contentment settles over him, but his fingers are already dancing across the slant of your waist, and you shiver at the unspoken promise of what’s to come next.

#♡ jordy is writing ♡#tr x reader #tr smut #tokrev x reader #tokrev smut #hanma x reader #hanma smut #draken x reader #draken smut #haitani ran x reader #haitani ran smut #haitani rindo x reader #haitani rindou smut #sanzu x reader #sanzu smut #kazutora x reader #izana x reader #taiju smut

771 notes · View notes

iplayghoul · 2 years

Text

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞

pairing:: reader x non-fandom/specific female character.

warnings:: smut, rough sex, gay sex, size kink, light sadism, sex toys, light masochism, hair pulling, scratching, rope bondage, choking, name calling, humiliation

word count:: 1.28k

notes:: inspired by the song come by doja cat, thats literally it this is a wlw non gendered pov except for ur girlfriend

you slowly began to decipher the elements hidden behind your clouded vision. a long, hot tear cascaded down the side of your cheek and above your ear, together with sweat. the ceiling was the only thing that came to your mind. you counted the tiles and the flickering of the dimly lit bulbs.

slowly it became apparent to you that they were flickering to the beat of music, it was your favourite song. your senses slowly refreshed themselves and a low, hushed, buzzing noise found its way to your ear. a bee, you thought. you gulped and moistened your drying lips, realising how much you'd been gasping and panting for air.

eyes welling up for another round of tears, you began to notice the rolling and vibrating in your lower stomach. your entire body ached, keeping you glued to the bed. your sweat kept you glued there too, you lay in a puddle of your secreted liquids. the puddle around the bottom half of your body was somewhat bigger than the rest and your hands were strapped above you by an unknown force.

gasping again, you whined lowly, pushing your neck up and slowly blinking your eyes. your legs were sweaty and trembling under the pressure of the pulsating below your belly button.

your legs were propped up languidly, knees swaying apart. you attempted to lean forward an inch more, feeling the jerk of your shoulders. licking your lips again, your eyes rolled, falling to where your arms were tied to the two upper corners of the bed.

baby we can get messy as you want, i wanna' roll around in all your love.

you've got impeccable taste, won't waste a drop. follow me to my room, yeah you can come.

the lyrics register in your head slowly as your neck succumbs to the wait of your head and nothing but the bobbing of your throat, the tug at your lips and your toes, desperately gripping the sheets, moves.

your senses were fully back to you now, you thrashed around on the bed, forcing your body off the sticky sheets and tugging at the restraints. you were groaning desperately at the vibrator that was pressed against your g-spot, several shocking pains rocketed through your pussy and straight up your back.

chills ran up and down your spine as you orgasmed for another time. how many, you weren't keeping track of, but the first after you came to your senses.

"fuck, fuck, fuck!" you spat out under your breath, choking on your words in your throat and releasing deafening cries. your eyes fluttered shut as your elbows worked overtime to hold you up. your body trembled and ached at the increasing pain in your pussy.

you flopped back onto the bed, pushing your legs up in attempts to twist around and shimmy the sturdy vibrator out of you. the door creaked open, and you froze. your neck and eyes bared the strain of looking in the direction of the door. the dim lights adding an extra struggle.

you felt the vibrator pitch up another level, a low squeal escaping your throat as your girlfriend walked towards you. she stalked towards you quickly, pressing a hand io against your throat and pinning you back down onto the bed. her hands ripping the restraints you'd failed to remove from the bedframe and pushing her knee up against your clit.

your hands immediately grasped at her shoulders, scratching and pulling up at her hair for the attention and touch you craved.

"god, you dirty bitch."

you keened at her words, new tears rushing down your face and mouth spread wise for words that would never come out. she roughly manhandled you down, squeezing your breasts and slipping one hand down to your soaked cunt.

she circled your hole, giving the silicone cord attached to the vibrator a sharp tug, provoking a silent scream out of you. you felt the vibrator being slotted through the messy slop of your folds, her hand suffocating you as you were pinned to the mattress.

finally, the vibrator pressed straight up onto your clit, your back direcrly cutting ties with the bedsheets.

"fuck!" you gave her hand a sharp bite which was rewarded with a slap.

"f- fucking hell!", you forced the words out of your throat. her legs slotted between yours, her pussy coming down to rest on the vibrator. further pushing it onto your clit and stimulating hers.

then, she proceeded with a slow, tedious grind against you. gripping your thigh as her head dropped back to release a breathy moan. her hand groped your throat now, you felt high with anticipation.

"go- fucking faster you bitch!"

your were awarded with blazing bruises against your skin for each word.

"fucking hell- do something!" the bed rocked with the chaos of the moment.

"who the fuck are you talking to?" she snapped back, rolling her eyes together with her hips, snapping them forward and back, grinding down harder onto you.

tears were streaming down your face, choking out a sob, " mommy- shit, please!"

"please what bitch?"

"i wanna- come!" the shrill sound of your voice filling the room. you were met with a harsh slap to the thigh.

"no."

your legs were shaking as pleasure shot through your now swollen pussy like electricity. your hairs standing on end as you begged her once more.

"let me- come- Ah!" your voice cracked in an echo as you orgasmed for the i-couldn't-keep-count-of-how-many-th time.

she pushed your limbs back down onto the bed and flung open the bedside drawers. the stinging of rope burns on your arms became noticeable but all your mind could think of was the thick, 7 inch double-sided dildo your girlfriend pulled from the drawer.

she grabbed your hair carefully, roughly guiding you onto your tummy, ass poking out in the air.

your mouth, un-occupied, gripped onto the bedsheets. you felt the bulbous head of the dildo position itself between your dripping lips. your girlfriend's ass slightly touching you as the bed shifted with her movement before it slid straight into both you and her.

a sigh dropped from both your mouth's, her's of pleasure and your's pain.

her ass slapped against yours repeatedly, rocking you both on the bed. the room's music was drowned by breathy moans, sweaty slapping and creaking.

she began to move faster, situating herself slightly above you, using her wait to pin your ass down to the bed and fuck herself down into you. the new angle hitting near your cervix, an immeasurable pain shooting straight to your clit. you cried out in desperation, the slapping grew harder and harder with each thrust.

"god! I'm gonna'- come!" your girlfriend's face was twisted in pleasure and your body went limp against the sheets as the rocking continued. your mind went blank for a moment, her screams fading and elevating like a pulse, mirroring the one in your clit. your vision flashing white lights and stars as you reached your climax again. your body thrashing around on the bed and arms grasping for the sheets as if you were being tortured by pleasure.

you felt the pressure on your sline being relieved, a soft slap to your ass was given accompanied by a light kiss. after a few moments of silence you felt a cold rag touching you ass. a sigh of relief left you as you allowed yourself to lay there and be cleaned.

your girlfriend shifted your sore and aching body gently as she cleaned you, blowing raspberries on your soft belly and leaving light touches elsewhere. you gave no response but the silence was comfortable. slowly, but surely, you drifted off again into another slumber, this time, a restful one.

— masterlist. i expect this to flop since its non fandom but if u read pls lmk ur thoughts! :p

862 notes · View notes

writingsfromhome · 5 months

Note

Could you imagine doing some one shots from the If You Love Me story ? Like moments from when they were 17 or something?

Adore this! Wrote 3 from when they were 17-18…thanks for the suggestion!

If you Love Something (One Shots)

It was finally here, the first day of my final year of high school.

“Y/N!” Taylor screeches from downstairs. She was so annoying!

I grab the clip from my desk and put my hair up, second-guessing the shirt I wore but another complaint from Taylor downstairs and I rush down.

“Stop yelling like a freak, jeez.” I tell her when we walk out.

“Mum!” She stalks towards the idling car, we were getting a ride for our first day. I wish I just walked.

My friends wait for me where we always met, and I barely get a word in as everyone compliments outfits, compares classes, talks about who glowed-up over the summer.

“Hey!” A hand grabs my shoulder when I walk in.

“Harry!” He’d been waiting just inside the entrance. I glance back at my friends and they wave, letting me know it was okay to stay with him.

My stomach flips, I didn’t want to suddenly turn into the girl that ditched her friends for her boyfriend. I rarely did that with Oli.

Maybe because you didn’t really like him like that.

“You alright?” Harry pinches his brow. I’d just been staring at my friends walking away.

“Yes. Sorry.”

“Sorry did you wanna be with your friends?” His hand drops from my shoulder. I want to grab it, hold it like we’d been doing all summer. Just thinking of the summer makes my heart flutter. It had been a perfect summer.

“No! So? Are you ready for first day?”

“I am now,” he smiles at me. I was a puddle. I never dreamed that the bloke I had a crush on would be looking at me like this. And yet, I got this look any time I wanted.

He holds his hand out to me, it was a gesture. Inside the school halls, this would mark us as official to our class.

He notices my hesitation, and drops his hand. I look up at him and notice he’a trying to hide his disappointment.

“C’mon, before we’re late.” He says robotically.

Shite. I was overthinking this.

As we walk, I brush my hand against his. I glance at him but he stares straightforward. His throat bobs when I do it again.

Just do it, stop being a coward y/n!

I grasp his hand and he freezes for a second before intertwining our fingers. It feels like everyone stares when we do but I know I can barely make out a single face as the blood rushes to my face. This was it—Harry and I were school official.

He squeezes my hand and the buzz runs up my arm and straight to my heart. I squeeze back, wondering if it does the same to him.

Y/N is waiting for me at car. It’s the first day of autumn and the air nips at our faces accordingly.

I savour in the few moments before y/n notices me; her hair is up in a high ponytail and unlike this morning, it’s gone wispy and it frames her face. I loved when it got like that, it reminded me of the first time I ever saw her.

It had been 3rd form, our first year in the new school. She was talking about the upcoming gcse with one of her mates. Her cheeks had been flushed, ponytail slipping down her hair, and talking a mile a minute. When she noticed me watching she had quieted down, turned so I couldn’t see her face.

Today, she brightens when she spots me; she never quieted around me anymore, she was louder than ever. It made me feel good, like I’d accomplished getting y/n out of her shell.

“Hiya,” her grin is infectious and I can’t help but return it. It was another of my favourite things about her. “You’re here early.”

“I ran here as soon as class was over!”

“Why?!” I always waited for her after class, especially if she lagged behind talking with her mates. She always waited when I spent extra time talking with mine too. It was something that was different to my last girlfriend—I’d always felt like I was wasting her time when I didn’t become available as soon as she was.

“I have something to show you!” I notice she’s clutching a piece of paper.

“What is it then!?”

I watch her flip the paper over, it takes me a second to understand. A maths test, graded in red. 84%.

“This is yours?” I take it from her and flip through.

“Yep! It’s mine! Written allllll on my own!”

“Y/N. You didn’t just pass—an 84%?”

“Right!” She does a little jump and shout that cracks me up. “Paid attention in class, studied for two days straight, and bob’s your uncle!”

“Bob’s your uncle!” I hold the paper up like a flag after a victory. She giggles and wraps her arms around my neck, squeezing me so hard I could barely breathe.

“You’re killing me here!” I choke.

“Sorry!” She releases me and I rub my throat.

“Baby!” She hits my chest. “I might actually be good at this?”

“Might actually?” I wave her paper. “That’s an 84%! i think you’re secretly a genius!”

She takes the paper back and flips through it, grinning at what she’s probably looked at a million times already.

“I’m proud of you,” I take her shoulders and shake her. “You worked so hard for this one!”

“I know, I even ignored you for two whole days. Hey…maybe that’s what’s stopping me from realizing I’m a mathematical genius!”

“If I remember correctly,” I lean against my car and watch her eyes twinkle. “I hooked you up with Khalil’s sister for tutoring.”

“Oi lovebirds,” someone says from the next car over, interrupting our celebration. “Move so she can get in?”

Y/N’s face drops at the sound of Mal’s voice. She was blocking his passenger door.

“A please wouldn’t kill you,” Y/N mutters. She flashes the girl a smile—someone I didn’t recognize. Probably because she was younger than us. The girl awkwardly smiles back.

“What’s that y/l/n?” Mal asks.

“Nothing.”

“Thought so.” He slides into his car.

Y/N yanks open his passenger door and bends down to be at the same level as him. She flips him off, “Fuck off Mal.”

“Sorry,” the girl whispers as she tried to get in.

“No get in. I opened the car door for you since chivalry is dead.”

“Just get in P!” Mal calls and the girl slides in, avoiding eye contact with everyone.

“You really let him get under your skin,” I comment when y/n slams the door and Mal starts complaining.

“He spread a rumour when we were 10,” y/n turns to me. “That I had lice and when that didn’t work, that I was emo because I had burned my arm with a hot oven rack.”

“What?” I had never heard this story.

“Y’know the oven grill, it burned my inner arm! The counsellor got involved and everything!”

Mal backs out of his spot and lays his hand on his horn before leaving. This time both Y/N and I flip him off.

“I’m driving you home and you’re telling me that story.” I tell her.

She walks around the car to the passenger’s side, already continuing the story. As she talks in the car, I’m struck again how different she is to the girl I used to know. I used to think she was shy but I was just uninformed and without the privilege of her comfort.

When I drop her to her house she’s just finishing up.

“And the worst part is two weeks later he tried kissing me at the school dance. I kicked him right between his chicken twig legs and he called me a bitch. But he never tried anything like that ever again.”

“It’s amazing that I just assumed your hatred for him all these years was just because he was a prick.”

“Well that too.” Y/N glances at her house for a second. “I don’t think anyone’s home. Did you want to…?”

I look up at her house too. The last time I was inside was for a dinner a few weeks ago. It was my first time meeting her parents and I’m pretty sure it went well. They didn’t tell y/n to stop dating me or anything at least. So I took that as a good sign.

“We can celebrate?” She holds the crumpled test up and her face is hesitant but hopeful.

“Alright. Let’s celebrate.” I park the car.

The best things we can find is half a Colin and some Irn-brus. We take it up to her bedroom and eat it on the bed while we talk about our day.

“You should frame this,” I tell her later. We’re just laying side by side in bed, listening to some music she picked out. “When you’re famous in the future you can point to it and say that’s when my life turned around.”

“Yeah maybe then I can start a podcast called turning you life around 84%.”

“I’d listen to it.”

“I’d have one listener then.”

“No you’d have me, your parents, Taylor-“

“Taylor would say she has to hear my voice enough as it is. I’d have to mention her just to bait her into listening.”

“At least you’ve got the strategy figured out.”

“True,” she laughs. Taylor was a force to be reckoned with. Where y/n was quiet and shy before you got to know her, you knew Taylor as soon as she walked into a room.

I prop myself on my elbow and look down at y/n. She gazes up at me with my favourite smile gracing her lips. I kiss them. She tastes like sugar and the watermelon flavoured chapstick she always applied. I can’t get enough.

“What was that?” She asks when I part.

“What?”

A corner of her mouth quirks up, “You’ve never kissed me like that before.”

“No?” I press a kiss to her jaw. “I haven’t?”

“You’re a good kisser,” she says as I press another to her neck. “But that was different.”

Maybe this was the first time we were actually making out on a bed, or maybe I finally didn’t feel like y/n was gonna run away if I got too intense. We both knew we felt intensely towards each other but we hadn’t even said I love you yet—I didn’t want to rush things physically in case she wanted to hear those words first.

I know I was only y/n’s second boyfriend, and I never wanted to push it too fast for her so I was never demanding and always let her set the pace. But it seemed like she liked whatever pace this was.

“I’m celebrating your score,” I climb over her and kiss her again. She grips my shirt tight. “I have 84 kisses to deliver, that was the 4th.”

She flushes and I second guess saying that until she pulls me back to her, “4 and counting.”

Our teeth clash in the next kiss, but we get it right in the next one. My lips capture hers and it’s rough and hard and real. I trail kisses down her jaw, down her throat, counting each one until my head is too clouded by the smooth feel of her skin, and the smell of her around me that I lose count.

She reaches for my shirt first, tugging at it and I slip it off, going right back to kissing her once I do.

When she pulls at hers I pause, making sure this was what she wanted. She just keeps pulling me back. She was beautiful and intoxicating and everything my dreams were made of.

When she whispers my name, with my face buried in her neck, her back arching into me, it’s hard to stay in control.

“Come back here,” she whispers. She guides me back up to her lips and it’s hard to remember what happens next. Her fingertips leave a burning sensation wherever she touches them until they’re buried in my hair, every noise she makes makes me feel like I would burst into oblivion, especially when she says my name.

“You have to stop that,” I say against her skin.

“Stop what?” She gasps as I grind into her.

“Saying my name like that,” I will myself to pause, or just to slow down. It’s like coming down from a high, I’m seeing stars and I have to focus on the flowers on her bedsheet just to see straight.

“Why? What happened?” She’s breathing heavy as I lift myself a few inches off of her.

“You’re driving me crazy,” I say. I push her hair back from her face, by now it was completely out of the elastic and plastered over her face.

She looks a bit embarrassed and I try to explain it wasn’t a bad thing. “I just don’t want to take things too far. Plus your parents might come home and-“

“They’re both working late today,” she says automatically. “It’s Thursday. And Taylor’s at a friend’s. They’re picking her up on the way home so that won’t be for hours.”

“Y/N,” I didn’t realize she’d thought it all through. “I don’t want to rush into anything with you-“

“We’ve been dating for like, 3 months Harry that’s not rushing!”

“No I know I-“ I roll off of her, and she pulls her sheets higher. I lay my hand on her neck, hoping she would just look at me. “I know but we don’t have to go all the way today.”

“Why not?” She looks at me now, her eyes watery but still defiant.

“I-I don’t know! It’s your first time right? Don’t you want to-“

“It’s-“ she shifts backwards to my hand falls from her face. It sits lamely between us. When she asks her question her voice wavers. “It’s not yours?”

I thought she knew. But as a flush spreads up to her face and her eyes water again. I realize I’ve never said it explicitly.

“Was it Ally?” She asks again before I have a chance to answer.

Shite. I somehow feel like I’ve fucked this all up without even trying.

“It’s not my first time,” I say and it kills me a little when she looks dejected. She raises her eyebrow, waiting for me to answer her second question.

It hadn’t been Ally. Right before I started dating her I had met a girl over the summer. It was 2 weeks of flirting and hanging out that culminated in an awkward 4 minute session in which I had lied saying it wasn’t my first time and showed her just how big of a lie that was. I regretted it as it was happening, and I regret it especially now.

I could lie, say it was Ally, but I also know I couldn’t. Not with Y/N.

“No.” I simply say.

“Oh,” she sits up, tucking her knees up to her chest as her hair falling over her shoulder. She tucks it behind her ear, the way she always did when she was thinking hard or in this case, uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry-“

“Don’t be,” she gives a quick huff. “It’s your life, nothing to be sorry about. I just um…well it’s stupid that I assumed…”

“It’s not stupid. I never really said and-“

“Yeah but I should’ve asked.” She draws her arms under her legs and rests her head on her knees. “Sorry. I’m like, spazzing out about the fact that it isn’t your first time when you’ve literally never said…”

“Hey,” I shift closer to her. “It’s good we’re having this talk now. For what it’s worth I’m sorry. For leading you on about that. The only reason I know it’s your first is because you’d mentioned it as a joke before. Otherwise I would’ve thought with you and Oli…”

She shudders at the thought and it breaks the awkwardness a little. I laugh and she turns her head to eye me, but there’s a small smile on her face. It feels like a white flag. I don’t know if we were even fighting just now but my heart is racing and I realize I was scared she was going to ask me to leave.

Before I could second guess it, I kiss her bare shoulder. “Is that 84? I sort of lost track.”

She shakes her head and buries her head back in her lap. Shite. Maybe that was too soon to make up.

“I’m pretty sure,” she says into her lap. “We’ve gone way beyond 84.”

When she looks at me the line between her brows are gone. Instead her laugh lines are in full display.

“You’ll just have to make up for it.” I kiss her shoulder again. “Keep those maths scores to keep up.”

“You just did that so I can’t blame you for getting bad grades.”

“Maybe,” I capture her lips in mine again. She kisses me back. It’s unhurried, like we had time and weren’t afraid to waste it.

I slowly guide her back down. We don’t talk about how far we were going to take it, but it’s agreed without saying that today wouldn’t be the day to go all the way.

We just take our time getting to know each other more, getting to hold each other more, until her phone pings and she informs me her parents were picking up Taylor.

We get dressed and I manage to make it home before her parents are anywhere in sight.

The whole way home, and for days after, all I can think about is Y/N and when I can steal another moment again. I’ve never felt like this for anyone before, I’d never been so consumed—physicaly, mentally, and emotionally by another person before.

That’s when I know for certainty that I loved her. I loved Y/N and I had to tell her.

My foot taps away on the floor as I shove another chip in my mouth. For the last week I’d wanted the most insanely greasy foods, mum kept trying to stuff me with whole foods whatever that meant. The likelihood of keeping this baby was pretty slim so I don’t know why she kept feeding me like I was trying to stay healthy.

When I told Harry all I could think of were chips we’d set off after school to a local shop. I’m finally tucked in a corner with a steaming box of chips, ketchup, and something they called a house sauce.

“They only have this,” Harry puts an apple juice in front of me. He opted for a fizzy drink but they made me unbearably bloated these days.

“Whatever,” I reach for it. “Thanks Har, this has never tasted so good.”

“Anything,” he reaches for my hand. “Tell me whenever and I’ll get anything for you.”

I tilt my head at him, he really had stayed true to his word. He never made me doubt he was behind me in any decision I had made. We were really in this together.

“I think I’m showing a little,” I tell him.

“Really?” He glances down but I’m covered by the table.

“It’s not like, obvious. But if someone knew, it would be.”

My stomach that was usually pudgy had taken on a more rounder shape. That was it. But I had been clocking and cataloguing every change to my body ever since I found out. I’d become almost obsessive doing it.

He eyes where my stomach would be, a faraway look passing over his face.

“Anyway I heard from Tam and Andie that everyone’s trying to think of a senior prank? It sounds like a movie, but I’d be in. How about you?” I try to change the subject.

Truth to be told it killed me when Harry had that face. I know he was imagining the baby as ours, as something real and loved. I couldn’t afford to think like that, I couldn’t afford to get attached. It was already attached and growing inside of me.

“Huh? Oh I think I heard Khalil saying something about it. Do they know what they’re doing?”

“Nope,” I had no idea who they were either but I continue. “We still have months to go so I think they’re still planning it.”

Harry plucks a chip and chews it slowly, his eyes are roaming over my face. I clear my throat, what was he thinking?

“So,” I tuck my hair behind my ear. “If you’re free next Sunday I have another appointment. Cuz I’ve been so nauseous. Mum’s taking me but if you’re free we can just go together?”

“Yeah. Of course I’ll come. What’s making you so nauseous?”

I break down what smells were currently putting me off in the mornings. How I had to avoid Taylor’s questioning, but that she was so out of the loop she thought I had a stomach bug.

“Mum and dad keep hovering over me. It gets so suffocating sometimes.”

“They’re just worrying. My mum keeps asking how you’re doing too. Especially every time a new uni letter comes in.”

There’s a brief pause. Our friends had started accepting offers. Harry and I had got a few letters but I hadn’t decided yet. Harry was most likely staying in the city. I didn’t know what to do. We still had a lot to talk about.

He suddenly gets up and walks to my side, sitting down beside me. Just like always, being tucked into him just made me feel more relaxed. I feel the tension from our previous conversation melt ever so slightly.

“They’ll probably miss you when you leave,” he continues. I look into his emerald eyes and hold them. Unspoken words pass between us but neither of us jump to bring them to light.

I bite into the chip in my hand that had grown cold. Suddenly my appetite disappears and I push the box away, a fluttering feeling beating at my chest.

“Hey y/n,” Harry’s hand comes down on my back.

“Sorry,” I try to take a deep breath.

“What’s wrong?” He leans down to peer into my face but I squeeze my eyes shut.

The weight of everything we still had to discuss, the fragility of the future, it threatens to suffocate me. This had started happening to me this month. Mum keeps saying Harry and I had to talk—the longer we went without discussing things, the harder it would be to pull myself out of these spells. I knew she was right but I wanted to avoid it just a little longer. Just to be as normal as we can for a little longer.

I find Harry’s other hand and hold it. He does what he always does, turning our hands so he can slot his fingers between mine. I focus on the movement, wait for the squeeze. I breathe better as I squeeze back.

“Alright?” Harry asks again.

“Yeah,” I finally look at him, the concerned etched around his eyes. I kiss his cheek. “I think I’m done with the chips.”

“Let’s get you home.” He rubs my back and stands, helping me up with him.

He’s attentive and supportive. He always had been but ever since the news he’d been gentle and even more thoughtful. I imagine him acting the same way if we did have the baby. He’d be such a good dad.

It makes me wonder how exactly he came into my life because I knew boys from school and nobody was like Harry. It felt like I’d caught a shooting star, both the wish and the star itself.

He helps me into my coat, I notice his eyes flicker to my belly.

As we walk home, hand-in-hand, we talk about random things. He kisses me goodbye on my front step and I catch his wrist before he goes. I position him in front of me, his back to the street, and unzip my coat.

He wants to say something but no words come out when he opens his mouth.

“It’s just rounder,” I fill the silence in. “You can feel the shape.”

His hand is big as it splays across my shirt. He inhales sharply and his eyes meet mine. It kills me like it always does, the way he looks right now. I put my hand on top of his and suddenly he starts to laugh.

“What?” Was he crazy? “Why are you laughin!?”

“This,” he puts his other hand over my belly and drags it down to outline the shape. “It’s all so mad isn’t it? It doesn’t feel real sometimes.”

“It doesn’t,” I try to laugh but it comes out like a wheeze. “It is mad.”

“We should talk,” he says. His face growing more serious. “Soon.”

“Yeah,” I whisper.

He wraps his arm around me and I slip mine under his backpack and his coat.

“I love you to the stars and back y/n,” he says. My heart flips as it always does hearing him say the words he’s said over a dozen times now. “We’re gonna figure this out.”

“Maybe Easter break,” I want to say but the door opens behind us.

“You two are gross,” Taylor says from behind.

“You’re gross,” I’m annoyed to remove myself from Harry because Taylor decided to ruin a good moment like always. “Why are you bothering us?”

“Taylor you want in on the hug?” Harry keeps his hands out behind me and I bite back my smile just to watch Taylor squirm uncomfortably. I was always glad Harry was on my side.

“Ew,” she eyes him.

“Don’t be shy,” Harry swoops past me and nearly pulls her in but she turns quickly and he catches her from behind instead. That’s when I laugh—when I see my sister being pulled into the air by my boyfriend.

“Taylor is love deprived,” I say with a laugh.

“Dad! Harry’s harassing me!” Taylor shouts as dad comes down the stairs. He pauses on the last step and takes in the scene.

“She interrupted our goodbye obviously she wanted a hug, dad.” I explain.

He simply sighs and resumes his walk to the kitchen. Harry puts her down and she tears away. I turn back to Harry and we burst out laughing.

“Thanks,” I tiptoe to kiss him. He cups the back of my head and kisses me back with a fierce intensity. He strokes my cheek. Our forehead touching as we drink the other in.

“I don’t ever want to lose you,” he suddenly whispers. Tears prick my eyes, the sentiment echoing back inside of me.

“We won’t,” I hold his face in my hands. “We see each other remember? You won’t ever lose me.”

I watch him walk away, a heavy melancholic feeling crushing me. I hadn’t lied to him, but I think by the time we graduate we were going to lose something. It scared me not knowing what.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

#harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles #writingsfromhome #harry styles imagine #asks #one shot #harry styles series #harry styles request #harry styles fluff #if you love something #this fic is qd

30 notes · View notes

https-furina · 10 months

Note

Hi! Could I please request prompt 38 (“they’re coming. kiss me!”) with Heizou? Thank you! Have a lovely day/night!

✎ i want you instead.

ft. heizou x gn!reader

prompt: “they’re coming. kiss me!”

w.c. 702 words

content: fluff (as always), reader has a fan club? picture them as the barbara of inazuma /j, best friends to lovers? a confession is included

notes: if you hear me screaming, sobbing, crying into my pillows - you really do i cannot lie it i love him

an idol to the inazuman society, there isn't a soul among the islands that doesn't know of your voice and talents. that is of course not even limited to your best friend, detective shikanoin heizou - the man who you can't even remember befriending. one day it was like you'd suddenly acquired his genius intuition and witty remarks at your side, you could say like a sidekick but if anything, you would have been his. heizou is put on a pedestal regarding his skills as a detective - despite just being a regular doushin otherwise. sometimes you wonder how you managed to bond so effortlessly with someone at the opposite end of the job spectrum to you.

and when you call it effortless, it really was. heizou and yourself fit like puzzle pieces that had been missing each other - key components to the other. one time heizou had jokingly grabbed your hand in his, grinning as he threw out "snug like a glove" into the air but it was true, your hands moulded together so perfectly it almost fed your delusions about the detective in his absence. you could go days without seeing him - just like his colleagues - and in those painstaking days, you'd find yourself curled up under a blanket in your home, sketching every miniscule feature you remember of heizou into your sketchbook. you'd rather defy the raiden shogun than ever let him near that sketchbook.

thankfully heizou's keen eye and ability to read between lines unwritten means he is more than used to being a scapegoat for you when your so-called fans are more than rowdy after a performance. he's not surprised when you catch up to him backstage, smiling awkwardly as you greet him. he quirks a brow, almost waiting for you to request some absurd action from him like usual.

"heizou - my favourite friend, the smartest detective in the tenryou commission-" heizou clucks his tongue, folding his arms across his chest as he cuts you off with a grin.

"the only detective in the tenryou commission," he corrects you promptly and you roll your eyes in response - time is running thin as you hurry a glance over your shoulder, "what do you need this time?"

you scowl at the insinuation behind 'this time' and you're about to retort in all of your dramatic ways but there's hushed voices of fans around the corner and your heart is racing thousands of beats a second, virtually in your throat as you stare at him in a daze. you've long had a crush on this man, you ponder if he's already aware.

"they're coming," you breathe as if you've ran a marathon but your lungs simply cannot keep up with you, "kiss me!"

the request falls out of your mouth between gritted teeth but verdant eyes notice your panic and the shaking of your hands when the voices get nearer. he bites his tongue, swallowing so hard his adam's apple bobs when he leans to press his lips onto yours. what the hell has gotten over the both of you? kissing your best friend? but the thoughts wash away when it feels as it always does - natural. you mould together once more but it's not a platonic feeling and perhaps it's mutual when heizou sends a sharp look in the direction of prying onlookers, watching as they retrace their steps backwards and leave.

even in their absence, the two of you don't seem to part. in fact, shaking hands reach up to tangle in burgundy hair when heizou's hands grab at your hips, gentle as ever as if you're porcelain beneath him.

"all the suitors in that fan club of yours and you choose to pull shit like that?" his hot breath fans across your face and you scoff, eyes refusing to look at him in embarrassment.

"i don't want them," you utter, catching your breath from the borderline makeout session that'd just erupted in the corridor, "i want you instead."

there's a smirk on heizou's face and it has smug written all over it. you want to smack it off that considerably handsome face of his but his lips find yours once more when he mumbles "about time" against your mouth.

#— 🧁 sugar ‘n’ spice #https-heizou #genshin x you #genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact fluff #shikanoin heizou x reader #genshin shikanoin heizou #shikanoin heizou #genshin fluff #genshin x reader

133 notes · View notes

palestaticexchange · 4 months

Text

IT TAKES A VILLAGE

"What's that?"

Your brother holds something small and shiny. His eyes glint like the thing in his hand does when he looks at you. "Go inside!" He says. The other one giggles.

"Show me! You have something!" You stumble to where they're crouched in the sand.

"Go away, Lily!" He's pouting now.

"This is our thing," the other one says. "We found it out there!" A wild finger swings towards the mound out in the sea.

The waves push back and forth over the sand. It's like a game: they want to pull you close then shove you away again. You shiver every time you look over them. "You can't go there..."

"W- Why did you tell her?"

You stamp a foot to catch the boys' attention. "You can't go out there! It's dangerous! Mom said!"

"Go away, Lily!" Your brother who holds the shiny thing stamps back. "This is why you can't play with us! You ruin everything!"

"No I don't!"

"Yes you do!"

"No I don't!"

"Yes you do!"

"N- No I don't!" Your lip wobbles, nose already growing thick with snot.

You other brother giggles as he replies in perfect chorus with his twin; "Yes! You! *DO*!"

It's too much. You squeal once then run crying back home. Your wails bob in pitch each time your little feet pound against the sand.

"Oh?" You can't see through your tears but hear the old lady call out to you as you pass her. "What's wrong, dear? Come talk to Isobel!"

You don't stop, just pound up the wooden slats and into your home. Your little paws grip the edge of the sofa and hoist you up. Then you curl up in the corner and wipe your snotty face against the woollen throw. Crying, wailing, wiping. You blow thick sneezes against the ratty blanket that smells of the sea and wood smoke.

Outside you hear the rumbling of adult voices, a moment later the door creaks open once again. "-Don't know, she just ran right past me."

"Right," Mom's voice. "What's all this crying for, girl?"

You raise your wobbly face from the blanket. Through your tears you spot the blue and yellow form of your mother and reach out for her. The sofa sinks next to you, sending your little body into her as she scoops you onto her lap.

"Hmm? Are we being silly?"

You wail against her chest as she cuddles you, one hand stroking through your hair. "T- they, w- why?" Your little fists twist into the front of her coat, the nylon making sweet swishes against your short nails. "W- why w- won't they l- let me p- p- pla- pluh- *PLAY* w- w- with t- theee~!" It's too much again. You grind your snotty face against your mother as she coos softly.

"Ah. This is about the twins again."

You nod, sniffing.

"Hmm," The hand on your back starts petting it affectionately. "Boys are like this I'm afraid, little one. By the time they'll *want* to play with you the game won't be in your favour."

You sniffle. You're not sure what mom means, but it doesn't sound fair. "But I want to play! I want to g- go on ah- ahd- ahd-ven-tures too!"

As you squeak out your new favourite *big* word your mom pauses in her stroking. She never shouts, or leaves you on your own for more than half a day, but she can get quiet. Then she runs her hand down your back again- slower this time. "Is that what you want? Or do you just want to be included?"

You unburrow your face from her chest and look up at her. She stops petting your hair and lifts the blanket, dabbing at your eyes then closing it around your nose. You blow into it.

"My special girl." As she pulls the wool away from your face you can see she's smiling down at you. "Do you want something all of your own?"

You gawk up at your mother before nodding quick.

You feel a puff of air hit your face as she laughs through her nose. Then she's lifting you off her lap and placing you on the sofa. "Let the boys keep their silly games." She stands and walks to the high shelves above the fireplace, standing tall and lifting a paper box down. "Mom's going to introduce you to a very special old friend of hers." You see a flash of something white, then she's holding it behind her back with one hand and replacing the box with her other. She walks back to the sofa and drops to a crouch in front of you. "He's been *my* friend since I was your age... But I think you need him more than I do now, pet."

You gasp as she pulls the doll from behind her back. "Woah~!" You forget your brothers and their adventures and their games. In front of you is the scrappy off-white body of a toy, an animal you recognise from one of your worn picture books. "A baa-lamb!"

Your mother's face scrunches as she smiles. "Well done little one." She turns the old thing over, she seems suddenly... Not sure. "I called him 'Lamby' but I suppose you could call him something else if you liked..." The smile returns as if nothing had happened, then she's holding him out to you.

You draw in breath and take the toy, his black button eyes already filled with love for you. "Lamby..." You whisper, stroking along his wool.

As you stroke your new friend you feel your mother's hand return to your hair, stroking you in time. "I just know you'll take *good* care of each other. Like he took good care of me."

You will take good care of me, won't you Little Lily? He says. I've had a long life, but I will be your friend for as long as you'll be mine.

You release a peel of giggles and kick your little legs. You pull the toy tight against your chest, liking the soft scratch of his wool against your still-damp cheek. Like the rest of the house he smells of salt, smoke, and seaweed. A moment later, you hear the creek of the door.

"Here comes trouble," your mother sighs.

From just outside you hear the old lady urging the boys up the steps. Then one of the twins comes into view with eyes like saucers.

Elder by 36 minutes. He plucked the metal shell from the sand. You look down at Lamby, not understanding what he means, then up again as your brother starts to talk.

"M'sorry Lily..." He mutters, shuffling awkwardly.

"Now your turn," Isobel urges from the doorway. Her hand rests on your other twin's shoulder as he turns shyly against her side.

"M'sorry..." He says quietly.

Mom gives the old lady a quick smile, then bends down to level with your brothers. "I have told you before to be kind to your sister-"

"Whas that!" The older one hops, pointing at Lamby."

You're a big girl. The stitching of Lamby's mouth is faded but you can tell it used to be pink. Let it go. You need them and they need you. You *all* need each other.

You take a deep breath and puff out your chest, holding Lamby in your lap. "His name is Lamby and he is my friend. You can k- keep your games and metal shells." You lift your chin like a big girl would.

Your older twin cocks his head, the one in the doorway pulls his fingers from his mouth to smile.

"There's my good girl," your mom says with a smile.

#pale static lore #disco elysium #lilienne carter #little lily #lamby #lilienne the net picker #lilienne's twins #pale static exchange

30 notes · View notes

j-eryewrites · 1 year

Text

Til We Meet Again

MAIN MASTER LIST | REQS OPEN

Word Count: 6.k

Pairings: Matt Murdock x fem!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Matthew Murdock

I wrote this out of my current/renewed Matt Murdock obsession. I most definitely could write a part 2/entire series based on this one-shot, so if any of you would like to encourage my current crush and desire to write about Matt, plz do...XD

“Come on, babes,” begged Cameron. Her wrist bobbed up and down to pump the mascara wand in and out of the bottle. She pulled the wand out, covered in the black cosmetic. The dark shade was a stark contrast to her vibrant lime-green hair. A spontaneous decision of the past week. A spontaneous decision of many that decorated her body.

Y/N chuckled as she watched her best friend put on her mascara face: Jaw slack and open showcasing the tongue piercing from two months ago, her coffee-coloured eyes wide, and eyebrows raised impossibly high.

“It’s your last chance to have real fun. Hon,” chimed Cameron. She turned around and leaned against the counter in the bathroom. Her bright orange slip dress turned sour the longer Y/N looked at it. “You’ve never been to a college party. Hell, you’ve never been to college. You’ve spent your entire life dancing and now you’re flying off to Copenhagen.” Cameron waved her free hand up and feigned dramatically. “You’ll leave me behind as you dance among the stars. Forever forgetting your best friend.”

“Drama queen,” giggled Y/N. “I won’t forget you. How could I ever!” Y/N jumped up from her seat on Cameron’s bed matching Cameron’s dramatic energy.

Cameron chuckled and swirled around to look back into the mirror. “Can you see my spanks?” Cameron asked as she lifted the dress lightly giving way to the neon blue shorts underneath.

“Nope,” Y/N said entering the bathroom. She began to peruse Cameron’s makeup bag. Her nose scrunched up as she looked at the lipstick colours her friend had.

“Ooh! Sex on the beach! My favourite colour.” Cameron exclaimed and she snatched it from Y/N’s hands.

“Sex on the beach? Really?”

“It’s a beautiful colour, babes,” Cameron said with a smack of her lips. She offered it to Y/N. “Wanna try it?”

Y/N looked up from the brilliant yellow lipstick with a quizzical expression on her face and shook her head. It was too bold for her. The boldest shade Y/N had ever put on her lips was black and that was for her role as the Black Swan in her ballet school’s production of Swan Lake.

“I’ll stick to chapstick, thanks.”

“Your loss.” Cameron hummed. The woman began to check herself out in the mirror. She pursed her lips and popped her hip to the side. “How do I look?”

“You look like a slushy,” Y/N replied bluntly.

“Perfect, Babes!” Cameron blew Y/N a kiss. “That’s what I was going for. Everyone loves a sexy slushy.”

Y/N giggled at Cameron’s comments. The giggle turned into a laugh which spread to Cameron.

“Okay, chica, be honest,” Cameron said, collecting herself. “From a scale of the Goonies to Dirty Dancing, how sexy am I?”

Y/N looked her friend up and down. “Depends on what shoes you’re gonna wear.” She replied.

Cameron chuckled and ran into her room. She swung open her closet doors and pulled out two pairs of shoes. One pair was her party tennis shoes; white vans with beer stains. The other was a pair of six-inch black heels, the ones she wore to her pole dancing classes.

“Okay,” Y/N said. “If you go with the vans, then you’ll be a Top Gun sexy and if you go with the heels you’ll be a Rocky Horror Picture Show kind of hot.”

A wide grin flashed on Cameron’s face. “This is why you’re my best friend, babes.” Cameron looked between the shoes and settled on the heels. She tossed the tennis shoes into the closet. “Rocky Horror Sexy it is,” she winked.

Y/N smiled as her friend put on the heels. Now, Cameron stood an inch taller than Y/N, something Cameron took pride in.

“Your turn honeybuns,” Cameron sang.

Y/N shook her head. “I’m not going, Cameron. I have an international flight tomorrow and I’m going to need all the sleep I can get. “

Cameron began to whine. Her eyes fell and widened to a size that would make a cartoon character jealous. “Please?”

“Cameron…” Y/N said warningly. Her face betrayed the determination in her voice as she smiled at her friend's antics.

“We can get Wendy’s...AND” Cameron began. “You can pick which songs we listen to on the drive over to the party AND back.”

Y/N dropped her head back with a sigh and looked up at the ceiling. She groaned and rolled her head around to back at Cameron and her puppy eyes.

“Fine, I’ll go.”

Cameron squealed and jumped up and down. Her hands clapped loudly as she had just received the best news of her life.

“I have the perfect dress!”

“No…” Y/N began but Cameron had already shoved a mesh, basically see-through, dress into Y/N’s hands. “I’m not wearing this.”

Cameron frowned.

“Cam, there is no way in hell, I’ll be wearing this. Besides, I have my own clothes.”

Cameron sighed as Y/N showed her friend the light blue slip dress she had packed. It shimmered in the moon on a dark night. It was beautiful and definitely something one would not wear to a college party–a college party at a frat house.

“You’ll look like a mother-fucking princess. Babes,” Cameron whines, “we’re supposed to look like whores together.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “I refuse to wear the dress. It’s either I look like a princess, or I’m not going.”

Cameron growled and then caved into her friend’s request. Y/N smiled as she changed into the dress. Her soft hands ran over the silky dress. She turned around to show Cameron and her friend smiled.

“I take it back. That’s Dirty Dancing hot, chica.” Cameron commented.

Y/N smiled and looked in the mirror. She really did look beautiful. “Nobody puts Baby in a corner,” Y/N winked.

“Speaking of, baby.” Cameron chimed. “You need some makeup with that outfit. Ooo, and a fun hairdo!”

“Cameron…”

“I wasn’t asking.” Sensing her friend’s reluctance she continued, “I promise I won’t give you crazy makeup. Just enough to highlight your beautiful face and I’ll, ooo, curl your hair. You wear it in buns all the time. It’s time you show off your gorgeous locks.”

Y/N smiled at her friend and then hopped onto the counter. Y/N's legs swayed as Cameron brushed her cosmetic products on her friend’s face. The two of them chatted, belting songs, and having some pre-game drinks. The two of them felt as if this night would for sure be a night to remember.

___________

“Come on Matt. It’s gonna be a night to remember. Finals are over. One more year of college done. One step closer to Nelson and Murdock,” Foggy raised the hand that wasn’t wrapped around Matt’s shoulder to motion to the imaginary business sign. “Nelson and Murdock,” Foggy whispered for dramatic effect.

Matt laughed at his friend’s actions. Clearly, Foggy did a little bit too much pre-partying in their dorm. The blond was already leaning on Matt making it hard for him to walk straight on the sidewalk and not into the busy road.

“Alright Foggy, a night to remember,” Matt smirked, sensing Foggy’s grin growing wider.

“That’s the spirit.” Foggy slapped Matt on the shoulder and brought him in for a side hug. The two of them laughed as Foggy narrowly missed walking straight into a street lamp.

“Now, Matt.” Foggy stepped in front of Matt and placed his hands on Matt’s shoulders. “I want you to find a girl and let out some steam. You’re too stress-addicted for your own good.”

“Foggy…” Matt began before Foggy shushed him.

“No, listen to me Murdock,” a smile grew on Foggy’s face. “You’re gonna have fun tonight. Promise me.” Foggy stuck out his pinky finger to Matt.

“I promise Fog,” Matt said. Foggy smiled and grabbed Matt’s hand. His pinky finger pinched Matt’s and the promise was made.

It wasn’t long before Matt and Foggy heard the sounds of the party. Music was blaring from the speakers scattered all over the lawn and house. People were laughing, screeching, dancing, chatting, and drunkenly singing. Matt’s nose scrunched up in disgust; those weren’t the only sounds he could hear. Matt could hear the buzzing of the house lights, the heartbeats of a few hundred people crammed into one space, the way the floor thundered and echoed footsteps, the bass of the song, the stickiness of the beer stuck to the bottoms of people’s shoes. His head already began to hurt and he knew it was worse when he’d be in the crowd. He’d smell, feel, hear, and taste everything. How could he not?

“London Fog! M&M! You made it,” a young man exclaimed. He ran over to Foggy and Matt gave big bear hugs. Matt offered a smile to try and hide his disgust from the man’s smell. Matt could smell his cologne, and traces of a woman’s perfume. He could also smell that the man before him had five cups of an alcoholic mixture: Beer, vodka, and Smirnoff. He could also smell the cigarette he had taken a few hours ago.

“How’s it been, Bryan?” Foggy asked, his words already slurred as they rolled off his tongue.

“It’s been a fucking riot. Cameron, man…she’s something.” Bryan’s face flushed red. “The dress she’s wearing.”

“I can see,” Foggy noted. “Man, that’s a bright orange.” Foggy opened his eyes wider and then blinked. “Now my eyes hurt. Too many bright colours.” He turned to Matt. “Only Cameron could pull off lime green hair, neon yellow lipstick, and an orange dress.”

Matt smiled and nodded his head. He remembered Cameron from one of his Spanish classes. She had walked into class the first day, took one look at the board, and just left. He couldn’t recall her coming to a single class yet she had one of the best grades. A chaotic genius to say the least. Before he knew it, Bryan had wrapped an arm around Matt’s shoulder. The other arm was linked around Foggy. Then Bryan guided the two of them into the party.

The minute Matt stepped through the door and into the heart of the party, the pounding in his head amplified. Bryan had dragged them to the kitchen and handed him and Foggy a red plastic cup. The alcohol mixture Matt had smelled earlier. Foggy lifted his head back and downed the drink in one go. Matt just took a sip before placing it back down on the counter.

Foggy had spotted Marci on the dance floor and excused himself. Bryan got dragged by another group and began taking shots in the dining room. Matt, on the other hand, began to swerve his way through the crowd. Everything became muffled and Matt had a hard time differentiating between his senses. He occasionally bumped into party-goers, their alcohol-ridden scent sticking to him. He needed to get out and away from the party. His pace picked up and he manoeuvred through the crowd colliding with more people. Suddenly, he came to a stop. There was a room next to him. It was quieter than the rest of the house and from what he could tell, no one was in there. He fumbled for the doorknob and burst into the room. A bathroom, he soon realized, as he closed the door. He found his way over to the sink and began to wash his hands. He splashed the cold water on his face. His senses finally came back to him and the thick walls of the bathroom tuned out the noise.

That’s when he heard it. It started out with a heartbeat. He could tell it was young and healthy as it thumped to a graceful melody. Then he heard the rustling of satin on the skin. It sounded so soft as the fabric ran up against the skin. Afterwards, there was a smell. It was so sweet, the smell of rain and lavender that was not too overpowering. It reminded him of Hell’s Kitchen in the spring when the church would grow lavender in the community garden. The smell carried through the air and Matt froze. The water from the sink was still running. He wasn’t the only one in the bathroom.

___________

“Umm,” the voice mumbled. He tilted his head in the direction of the sound. It came from a young woman. “Hello.” She said.

Matt turned around. His cane and glasses were fully on show. “Hello?” He responded. His head moved side to side. He already knew where she was, but she didn’t know that.

“Oh, you’re…”

He smiled softly. “Blind. Yeah.” He shrugged.

The two of them stood there not knowing what to say. Matt suddenly remembered where they were. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize…” he began to apologize.

“You’re fine. I was just stepping away from the party for a moment. I was just about to go back out.” She motioned to the door before realizing Matt couldn’t actually see her. Her head smacked her forehead. “I just pointed to the door…I’m gonna go,” she mumbled.

As she walked past Matt he noticed the absence of alcohol. She hadn’t drunk anything and the sound of her heartbeat made Matt think that she didn’t want to rejoin the party anytime soon. Matt reached out to stop her.

“You don’t have to go. I’m just taking a breather like you.”

She turned around and smiled at him softly. “No, it’s alright. Plus, I’m sure my friend is wondering where I am right now.” She turned away and turned the doorknob. Only that it didn’t turn. Instead, the knob detached from the door, clattering against the stone tile of the bathroom floor.

“Fuck,” cursed the woman.

Matt moved his head in her direction. “What happened? I heard something bang against the floor.”

“Uh…” the woman faltered as she bent down to grab the door knob. She picked it up, walked over to Matt, and placed it in his hand. Her fingers brushed against his hand and Matt felt as if his hand was afire. He ran his hands over the cool door knob and then sighed. He smiled to himself at the gesture.

“Yeah, the door knob fell off. Which is just great.” She muttered. Her voice grew tight and nervous.

Matt placed the door knob down and then remembered the water in the sink was still running. He quickly turned it off and tried to offer the woman some words of comfort. “I’m sure someone will come looking. Right? You said your friend was…”

“I lied. She’s busy with some guy and drunk off her ass. She wouldn’t be able to help us. You?”

Matt shook his head. The woman sighed. “My friend was already wasted when we got to the party.”

The woman groaned and slid to the floor. She tucked her knees in close. “Perfect. I’m gonna miss my flight tomorrow,” she muttered under her breath clearly so Matt wouldn’t hear, but he did.

“I’m sure everything will be alright.” He crouched down to the floor and leaned up against the sink cabinets.

The woman’s heartbeat continued to beat faster and Matt was sure she’d die of a heart attack if he didn’t find some way to calm her down.

“I’m Matt,” he blurted out. He felt his face heat up as the woman replied back.

“Y/N.”

“What year are you?” He found himself asking.

“Huh?” Y/N replied.

Matt cleared his throat. “What year of school are you in?”

“Oh,” Y/N said, “I’m not a student. Just a friend visiting a friend for a bit.”

Matt tilted his head at the words. “You don’t go to Columbia?”

“Nope,” Y/N muttered.

“Then why are you here at an end-of-year frat party?” Matt asked with a teasing tone. He could already hear her heartbeat returning back to its tranquil melody.

“Funny story, actually.” She chuckled.

“I have time.” Matt smiled. He flashed his signature grin. The one that had girls fawning over him.

Y/N blushed at his smile and began her story. She told Matt how a few months ago she auditioned for the Danish Royal Ballet company. They had gotten back to her saying they wanted her to join them. It was a dream come true for her. Matt intently listened to her love for dancing and how she immediately accepted. Instead of college, she chose to dance and now as of tomorrow afternoon, she’d be flying to Copenhagen. When she broke the news to her family and friends, they all demanded to have her visit. One of which had been her childhood best friend, Cameron. Matt chuckled and told her he knew Cameron. They shared a few laughs about the funny memories Matt and Y/N had of the young and chaotic woman.

“So now you’re visiting Cameron,” Matt repeated.

Y/N nodded. “Yep, she’s the last one that I was going to visit before flying to Denmark.”

Matt had extended his legs out. His feet occasionally grazed and bumped into Y/N’s feet. Every time they did, he’d fight the blush that tried to appear on his face.

“For a last hurrah, Cameron suggested–dragged me to this party. To be honest, I don’t like parties that much. It’s too loud, there are harsh lights, and the smells are just…”

“It’s overwhelming.” Matt finished. He knew the exact feeling.

“Yeah.” Y/N’s voice grew quiet. “Now, your turn Matt. What’s your story and how’d you end up locked in a bathroom with me?” Y/N jokingly asked.

Matt let out a laugh. Y/N smiled and giggle along. Matt felt a wave of relief fall over him. It had been a while since he really laughed like that: tears formed in the corner of his eyes, his breath cut short, and he clutched his chest.

“My story’s not as…” Matt closed his eyes thinking of the right word, “interesting as yours.”

“That’s alright,” Y/N smiled, “I happen to like mundane stories. Besides, I have time.”

Matt smirked at the familiar phrase he muttered before, which now fell from her lips. He opened his mouth to tell his story when he heard the shuffling of the dress Y/N was wearing. With a huff, she stood up from her seat and strolled over to Matt. She plopped down next to him. Their legs brushed against each other. Matt couldn’t help but flash a smile in her direction. His eyes concealed by his red-tinted glasses fell just below the woman’s chin.

“Did you just…” he chuckled.

As if she knew what he was asking, Y/N replied. “I can hear you better this way. You know, the party is quite loud.”

Now their legs were lying against each other. No longer shy, Y/N found herself scooting closer to Matt. Her hand snaked underneath his arm and then held it close. His hand playing with hers.

Matt just smiled. The blush on his face was now a similar shade to the scarlet lens that adorned his face.

“Sure, sweetheart.”

Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Anyways, I’m a law student here at Columbia. Before that I grew up in Hell’s Kitchen,” Matt told Y/N.

She rested her head against his shoulder causing Matt to pause his story. He took a moment to calm his thundering heart. When Matt began his story. He was planning on just sticking to his college years. His childhood was a tangle of sombre memories: the accident, his dad, and Stick. But his lips betrayed him and Matt found himself telling Y/N about his dad and growing up at the orphanage. A story he didn’t divulge to just anyone. But Y/N wasn’t anyone. She was the woman who was locked in the bathroom with him. The ballerina who’d be flying across the world tomorrow. She was the woman whose heartbeat was helping distract him from the chaos outside the bathroom door. She was Y/N. He’d only known her for a few hours, but Matt couldn’t help but think he’d known her his whole life. An idea that Matt cringed at. This wasn’t him. He was a flirt and a playboy, but for the woman in the bathroom, he’d be anything.

Soon, Matt was talking about the accident. The struggles of having your entire world stripped away in an instant. A good deed that was rewarded with eternal darkness. He told her about Nelson and Murdock, the law firm he was going to start with Foggy.

Together the two of them sat on the bathroom floor, sharing their lives and souls with one another. As Matt talked, Y/N listened. She rubbed his hand when he felt his throat clench. She just listened and Matt felt safe. He had no clue why, but he felt safe. Y/N was safe. In their tiny enclosure of a bathroom in a frat house, the two of them felt safe.

___________

The safety that the bathroom provided the two of them shattered at the sound of a hard object that collided with the window in the room. Matt and Y/N jumped to their feet at the sudden bang. Y/N’s grip on Matt’s arm got tighter before she let go. His side was now freezing cold without her warmth. He tilted his head to listen to her as she trod carefully over to the window. Her body froze and her heart had a quick uptake.

“Everything alright?” Matt asked in concern. He took a step forward before he heard her shuffle forward and then came a loud creaking sound.

Y/N’s smile turned upward as she looked out the open window. A cheer left her lips.

“Ah ha! Fuck yeah.”

Matt’s ears perked up. “What?”

“Why didn’t I think of this before?” Y/N scolded herself.

Matt chuckled. “Mind telling me what your amazing discovery is?”

“The window.”

“The window?”

“We can get out through the window. We’re on the first floor. It’s a bit of a jump, but we can get out!”

Matt’s face fell. “Oh, that’s great.” He smiled again when she looked back at him. A part of him wanted to stay in the bathroom forever. Just him and her. Matt and Y/N.

Her feet hit the ground and she walked back over to Matt. Her soft hands reached out and guided him over to the window. She lifted his hand up and to the window ledge.

“Do you think you can get up?” She asked.

Matt turned to her and smiled. “Of course, sweetheart. I’m a big boy.”

Y/N’s face flushed bright red at the comment. She was happy that he couldn’t see her right now. Matt knowingly smiled at her blush. He knew full well the effect his words had on her. Matt handed her his cane which she took and held close. Her free hand held out to help him up. Then he pulled himself up onto the ledge and swung his legs around. His knees bent the minute the tips of his feet hit solid ground. Standing up straight he turned around to the sound of Y/N following him out the window. With a yelp, Matt stuck out his hand to hold her steady as she braced herself from the jump. She muttered a quick thanks before dusting her dress off and handing Matt back his cane. She felt like a teenager sneaking out of her house.

The two of them stood underneath the window, unsure of what to do. Inside the house, the party was raging on. Matt could hear the numerous beverages being poured, the music tuned up louder, and people’s clothes grinding against one another. The more his senses took notice of it all, the more he just wanted to get out of there. He wanted to leave the party behind, take Y/N with him and enjoy the rest of the night.

It seemed as if Y/N was thinking the same thing.

“Wanna get out of here?” Matt asked at the same time Y/N suggested that they leave. The two of them smiled at their synchronization of thoughts.

“Where are you staying?” He wondered. He took a step in her direction.

“At Cameron’s, in the dorms.” She replied.

“Perfect,” Matt whispered. “We’re in the same building then.” He extended out his arm to Y/N and smiled. It was more for his benefit than hers. He wanted to hold her close, closer than they had been, sitting in the bathroom, a few moments earlier. There was something about Y/N that intoxicated him. Her scent, the sound of her heartbeat, the way she smiled at his attempts at flirting, all were like a drug that Matt could never get enough of. His face dropped slightly remembering that she was leaving tomorrow morning. She didn’t live here and wasn’t a student at Columbia. There was a part of him that wished she was. A part of him wished he could wake up tomorrow and be around her again–hear her heartbeat, feel her smile, smell her faint perfume, hold her close, but that wasn’t so. For now, Matt would settle on the now, making most of the time he had left and maybe if he’d play his cards right, he’d get to kiss her.

“Mind if I walk you back?”

Matt heard the young woman next to him stifle a giggle before linking her arm with his. She leaned into him, her calming scent washing over him. “I don’t see why not.”

___________

The walk back to the dorms was long, Y/N noted. Matt had chosen to take her the scenic route not that she minded. She enjoyed the walk back. The two of them chatted about life and never seemed to run out of things to talk about. She cherished the way Matt offered his jacket the minute a chill crept up her spine from the cold night. Matt loved the way Y/N pulled him a little bit closer the longer they walked. His warmth seeped into her side. To others who passed them by, it seemed as if Matt and Y/N were one person, walking so close they shared the same breaths, their hearts beating in sync.

Matt’s pace slowed as the familiar scents and sounds of the dorms swarmed his senses. He felt his hand hold Y/N a little bit tighter, pulling her back to walk at his sloth-like pace. Eventually, his feet betrayed him and he found himself entering the doors of the building. Then the elevator. Then the hallway where Cameron’s dorm was located. Then just outside the dorm.

Matt sighed softly at the loss of Y/N by his side. She had turned away from him and opened the door to Cameron’s dorm. Her back facing him. Her hand was still on the doorknob. Matt’s breath got heavy as he heard how fast Y/N’s heart was beating. She was waiting for something.

Suddenly she turned around and gasped slightly at the proximity she had to Matt. Matt smiled at the sound. Her scent now filled his nose. His senses were only focused on her. Her heartbeat, the sound of her breath, the way her hand ran against her dress in an attempt to soothe her nerves, the blood rushing to her cheeks, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. Her lips. Matt could tell they’d be soft. He wondered how’d they’d taste and how’d they’d feel against his.

Matt couldn’t stand it any longer. The two of them had been dancing around all evening. The hand of the clock was moving closer and closer to her departure time. He reached up a hand to cup her cheek, the other tickled her neck, coming to rest just above her heartbeat. Matt leaned in, but she stopped him. Her hand was firm on his chest.

“I can’t.” She whispered.

Matt frowned and pulled away. Was he reading this all wrong?

“Matt,” Y/N reached out. She pulled him back to her.

“I have this policy.” She explained. Matt found his hands finding a place at her waist. His grip was solid.

“A policy?” Matt asked. His brows raised.

“I…,” She shook her head. “I don’t kiss and say goodbye.” Her voice got quiet and if it wasn’t for Matt’s hyper-hearing, he was sure he would have missed it.

He smiled softly he opened his mouth to reply, but Y/N continued on.

“I leave tomorrow morning and I don’t know if I’ll ever be back in New York. Hell, I don’t even know if I’ll be back in the States for that matter.” Matt felt her head fall against his chest.

“But,” she said softly, “If I ever find you again in the future. If our paths somehow cross–like I need a defence lawyer,”

“Why? Do you plan on getting in trouble anytime soon,” Matt jokingly commented.

Y/N chuckled. The nervousness in her muscles relaxed.

“Or if my ballet company tours or something like that,” She continued. She lifted her head off of Matt’s chest and cupped his face in her hands. She leaned in close and brushed her nose against his. “If you aren’t taken and vise-versa, if we remember each other, remember this…”

“That’s a lot of ifs,” Matt whispered. His nose nudging hers.

“I know, but if destiny, fate, whatever is on our side, then I promise to give you a kiss.”

Matt’s ears perked up at those words.

“I’ll give you a kiss. A real kiss,” She repeated.

Matt laughed. “A real kiss?”

He felt her smile. “Yeah, not some peck on the cheek bullshit. A real kiss like how they do it in the movies.”

“Okay,” Matt said. He wished as he held her close, that he could say something poetic and what not but words failed him.

It was Y/N who pulled back first. Her hands fell from Matt’s face, and she stepped out of his hold. She turned away and whispered goodbye before closing the door to Cameron’s room. Matt sighed and stood outside her door taking in the promise she had made him. Forcing his mind to commit every last detail about her to memory. He’d be damned if he’d ever forget such a wonderful woman–Y/N.

Finally, he stepped away and walked down the hall back to the elevators. He had only made it a few steps before the door flung open and Y/N rushed out. She ran to Matt. He turned around to meet her when he felt a warmth on his cheek. She had kissed him. Kissed his cheek.

“There,” She stated. “A little something to mark the promise.”

Matt smiled and reached out to her, his hand grasping her forearm. He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. His lips a promise to find her. A promise to never forget. He lingered close to her. His soft lips against her flushed cheek.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Goodnight, Matt,” Y/N whispered sweetly. “Find me in the future.”

_________

It was 3.26 in the morning when Foggy stumbled into the dorm. His drunken figure ran into the walls and tripped over shoes laid out across the floor. The noise from his entrance would have woken Matt from his slumber. However, Matt was awake. His sightless eyes gazed up at the ceiling. His mind was in a trace with a prayer on loop.

“Fuck, sorry Matt.” Foggy apologized. His voice was hoarse from the long night of alcohol and impromptu karaoke.

Matt turned on his side. “It’s alright, Foggy.”

“So…” Foggy began as he marched to the bathroom and hastily brushed his teeth clean. The bottle of tooth past lay untouched next to the sink. “Was it a night to remember?”

Matt couldn’t hide the large and bright smile that appeared on his face. Matt’s mind flashed with the memories from the evening, distracting him from answering Foggy’s question. Puzzled by his friend’s silence, Foggy stepped out of the bathroom. A toothbrush stuck in his mouth, and hands on his hips.

“You didn’t…” Foggy exclaimed the words sounding mushed with the toothbrush in his mouth. He quickly took out the toothbrush and discarded it on the side of the sink. “Who is she?”

Matt sat up and looked in Foggy’s direction. The pungent smell of the party that followed Foggy didn’t bother Matt as he thought about the woman of the evening. Part of him wanted to keep the events of tonight a secret. He wanted to keep Y/N–the memory of her to himself. However, Matt’s mouth opened up and betrayed the inner thoughts of his mind, and he told Foggy everything. He told Foggy about being locked in the bathroom. The way she sat down next to him. Her leg brushed against his. He told Foggy about how he could have talked to the woman for hours and that he had told her so much about him some of which Foggy had never known. The smell of her perfume, and the sound of her voice and when she laughed. Matt smiled as he relayed their escape from the bathroom and the way she held on to him the walk back drawing him closer as the cold night went on. Matt told Foggy of his reluctance to let her go, and how he wished she were a student here. That he could be with her again and again, but that it couldn’t be. Later today, she’d be on a plane far away from New York. Far away from Matt.

The room grew silent, and Matt just sat on his bed. Unsure of the thoughts and feelings dancing around his head.

“What is it?” Foggy asked. He got the sense that there was something more to Matt’s mysterious woman of the evening. “A ground-breaking kiss? Mind-blowing sex?”

Matt just shook his head. Foggy gasped.

“I kissed her cheek,” Matt replied. He had said it as if it was the best thing that had ever happened to him. A tiny kiss on the cheek. A kiss she had ran after him for.

Foggy feined dramatically. “A. Kiss. On. the. Cheek.”

“No, Fog…” Matt began. His head shook at Foggy’s statement. “We made a promise.”

Foggy stopped his dramatic acting and hopped on his bed. “A promise?” He repeated sceptically. This was his friend, Matthew Murdock, the campus playboy and heartthrob, and here he was a complete sap over a girl he had only met a few hours before. It didn’t possible to Foggy.

“If we find each other in the future, remember this night, the promise, then she’d give me a real kiss.”

“A real kiss?” Foggy chuckled.

“Like one of those in the movies.”

Foggy’s eyes narrowed at Matt. “She’s your Cinderella,” he blurted.

“My what?”

“Your Cinderella. The promise, AKA the shoe. The party tonight, the ball. Love at first sight You get my gist.”

“I’m not in love with her Fog it’s just…”

Foggy rolled his eyes. “She’s your Cinderella,” Foggy stated firmly. “You’re a complete sap over a woman you’ve only known for a few hours. Therefore, CINDERELLA.”

Matt smiled. “My Cinderella,” he repeated to himself.

“Now, you just need to go all Prince Charming and scour the kingdom for her,” Foggy mumbled as he fell back in his bed and snuggled into his blankets.

Matt smiled at the thought and laid back down. His eyes raised up once again to the ceiling. Y/N, he thought. Matt felt like a sinner as the most beautiful sound he had ever heard left his lips–her name. He said it over and over again. A silent prayer to God that he’d meet her again in the future. He’d find his Cinderella and claim his kiss. He’d remember her: her scent, the melody of her heart, the touch of her skin and her lips, everything. Soon Matt felt his eyelids fall closed as midnight dreams overtook him. All he could think about was her. Y/N. He’d find her he just knew it.

__________

Tag list: @bartokthealbinobat

Comment below if you would like to be added to the tag list...or if you want more to the story :)

_________

146 notes · View notes