Gepard had made peace with having no soulmate. In the familiar order of 00:000:00:00:00 (years, days, hours, minutes, seconds), Gepard saw marks ticking around him every day of the warming spring. Rolled-up shirts worn on too-hot days led to many exposed wrists. Romantic indications on the left, platonic on the right for those right-handed, and the inverse for those who worked with their left. He barely registered them anymore because he had no want left in him, no yearning. A soulmate was simply not in the cards for him as someone born without a timer.
So, here he sat in the pottery shop five blocks from his city apartment when he overheard a conversation that changed the course of his life.
~~
Brainrotted so hard because it deals so well with trauma and healing and the pining is so hard and looking past the angst theyre so cute
you’re the one that i haunt | 4 | bakugou x reader
pairing: Bakugou Katsuki / Female Reader
length: 4,000 of 15,000 words | 4th of 4 chapters
summary: Ghosts aren’t real. At least, that’s what you tell yourself when the spirit of pro hero Dynamight suddenly starts haunting your apartment.
(A Halloween adventure, in which your cooking is criticized, your showers are rudely interrupted, and you must work together with Bakugou Katsuki to figure out if his disappearance is a trick–or a treat.)
tags/warnings: romance, Halloween, snarking, (not actual) character death, aged up characters, smut
The next thing you were aware of was a hard body curled over yours.
There was a ringing in your ears, and a muffled noise beyond it, like someone was shouting through cotton.
“–rat. Oi, brat!” someone was shouting, from what sounded like very close by. “Brat, you’re fine, open your eyes.”
The body over you shifted, and your eyes snapped open, only to come face-to-face with pro hero Deku. Over his shoulder, you could just see the ghostly figure of Bakugou, looking angry and concerned all at once.
Deku had apparently grabbed you and leapt to the opposite end of the hall, covering you as the other end of the corridor crumbled, debris pinging off the walls around you. Grey powder choked the hall, dredging up all-to-familiar memories of your own workplace caving in—
A pair of fingers snapped in front of your face, Bakugou’s own face poking around Deku’s shoulder. “Breathe, brat, you’re gonna be fine.”
You sucked in a breath obediently, and Deku’s eyes searched over you. “Are you alright?” he asked.
You nodded, and he shifted off of you, turning to the opposite end of the hall. “Keep behind me, okay? Something’s coming.”
No sooner had he said it than several bodies climbed out of the hole that had been blown into the side of the building, masked men in varying levels of tac gear and hero uniforms you did not recognize. Deku dropped into a fighting stance, blackwhip flickering to life at his arm. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears.
“Get back against the wall, in the corner,” Bakugou said. “The nerd will get this.”
You turned to look at him, eyes sweeping over his handsome face. He looked seriously concerned, sending your heartbeat tripping all over itself. He was leaning into you, like he meant to curl over you himself, which reminded you all over again why he couldn’t, and why you were here in the first place.
“Your room,” you said, your voice a little strangled. Deku’s jump had put you right at the end of the hall, directly in range of Bakugou’s hospital room.
Bakugou said something, but you didn’t hear him, too focused on heading straight for his room. You shouldered open the door, relieved to see the room was still in order, untouched by the explosion, except for a small puddle of water on the floor, where a plastic cup of water had apparently overturned itself off a side table.
You froze at the sight of the figure laying still in the hospital bed. It was unmistakably Bakugou, ashy blonde hair sticking up in wild tufts, long eyelashes resting against the tops of those ridiculously high cheekbones. His soft mouth, always curled meanly when he was awake, was slack in sleep. He looked ridiculously pretty, despite the plethora of tubes sticking out of him. Your heart throbbed in agony for him, for the soft, helpless version of this man who lay before you.
i’ve never seen death note but I know it has two characters that look like this and one of them is an antisocial genius using a mystical artifact to kill people and the other one is the determined teen detective hunting him down and i just found out which is which and now i want to hit someone
contents: sfw. summer romance. office romance. boss (?) kuroo. brief mentions of alcohol. each part will have its own warnings!
summary: getting a promotion could be a sign that this is your summer. new position, new floor, new office… neighbor? you’ve heard a bit about him, shared brief hellos while waiting for elevators, but you don’t really know much about kuroo tetsurou. could moving into the office next to him be the chance to change that?
notes: i’m genuinely so excited about this ahhh. i love love love writing kuroo so much :( i hope u all will like this little summer series.
I. WHEN BOXES ARE HEAVY . . .
summary: you really didn’t think that you had that much stuff in your old office. but when the boxes start feeling heavier and heavier, you think it’s good thing your new “neighbor” doesn’t mind helping carry a few.
II. WHEN THE ICE MACHINE BREAKS . . .
summary: scouts honor, you swear it wasn’t you that broke the ice machine, all you did was press the button! your colleague seems to have a good solution though.
III. WHEN THE A/C GOES OUT . . .
summary: of course the office’s air conditioning unit picks the hottest day of the year to go totally kaput. maybe kuroo knows a few ways to make the heat wave a bit more bearable?
IV. WHEN OFFICE HOURS GET LONG . . .
summary: pulling all nighters is apart of every office worker’s time at the jva. you soon find out, though, that it isn’t too bad when tetsurou is such good company.
V. WHEN DESKS TURN TO HOMES . . .
summary: when paperwork for tetsu makes it way to your office instead of his, of course you go to return it. and maybe you take the opportunity to peek around his desk too—just a little.
hi idk if this has been asked yet, i’m so sorry if it has :c
but do you
do you think you could do more about bully gojo???
if not that’s okay, but the one piece you posted is the ONLY gojo piece I have ever read that actually made me go...woah
you are very talented!!! i love your work!!!
☆ cw ;; dark content ahead, bullying, gojo is rich and annoying and a dick, sexual content in a v general sense, risky sexy, dacryphilia, general humilation, obsession, the usual from me, afab!reader 18+
☆ wc ;; 1.4k
☆ a/n ;; i haven't read or written bully content in a hot minute so this is just a perspective switch. im rusty but i hope you still enjoy it lol
☆ synopsis ;; gojo has a tight grip, but you always slip like sand from inbetween his fingers.
(PART 1)
Gojo Satoru is king of kings.
Due to elite status, social class, general looks and an entire other roster of contributions - there's not a single thing on his campus that he can't have. It's always made him numb to the college experience - after all he's been drinking and partying and sleeping around for what feels like forever.
Flaunting his wealth was all a part of his general, widespread apathy towards being great. Why ask why when you could ask why not? When the world gives you everything, there's little that can be truly exciting other than spreading bouts of grief , causing problems, and stomping out peoples lights for some kind of entertainment.
In small, inexplicable, frustrating ways. In stolen girlfriends and flashy clothes and unanswered texts. Gojo Satoru was the man who had everything.
Gojo Satoru is a man who can't have you. Gojo Satoru is a man who wants to keep you at all costs.
At first, his little stupid conquest of you was just about pride. An arrow of rejection shot through him those first couple of encounters in which he never seemed to impress you. Not the wealth, or the looks, or the status. You always urged Gojo to leave you alone, and maybe in another life that would be possible.
But in this one, you were a broke and boring college student who wouldn't spend more than two minutes thinking of him. Your willful ignorance of his existence sparked an onset of masochistic pleasure in being ignored. Suddenly began a mental conquest, a chase.
Your cold way of speaking, your independence, your stubborn pride - Gojo has met plenty like you. Your refusal to engage with him though.. that was brand new and interesting. At whatever cost, Gojo Satoru wanted to make you his.
As is common for a rich kids, the first thing Gojo tries is throwing money at the problem.
Acquiring your schedule from the Dean. He follows you into everything. Your classes, your job, walking you home. You continuously ignore him and that always frustrates him a little. The frustration escalates over time into more extremes and suddenly there's no place in the world that you are that Gojo isn't. Call it obsession, maybe it is - but can you blame him?
After all, nothing shakes that rib-squeezing anxiety that you're not his yet. He's merely pestering you. That night he sees you with Getou, smiling and relaxed and warm does it all come together. Gojo Satoru, still doesn't have you.
He's know he's a scumbag for fucking you like that. He knew it then with two fingers pumping in and out of your cunt and his heart in his throat, mind spinning with the thought of you. But that's the first time in a long series of encounters you've ever real shown Gojo any mercy.
It's the first time you've reacted to his excessive teasing, his manhandling, his slick comments and agitating words. It's the first time you've ever looked so docile in his presence - when you're stone faced expressions suddenly liquefies and you're begging and crying from pleasure.
It's only then, only after that Gojo is possessed with the idea he wants to haunt your dreams for the rest of his life.
Gojo has never felt so crazy in his life, but you drive him to that point without any effort at all.
After that day, life persists as usual. Gojo continuously pesters you whether that be with back-handed words or a simple jab. Each time it happens, unlike before, you've given into reacting. It's small. A sharp frown, or a scoff, or a general look of upset. A couple of weeks ago he would've been delighted at the idea - finally you're paying him some mind.
But now when you frustratedly study, his heart climbs into his throat. Now when you whine, Gojo's whole body reacts to you and desperation settles in his skin like a sickness.
The only thing social status and wealth can't buy is your love in an indefinite way. No money or recognition will put your heart in an ice cooler for Gojo to keep, no amount of anything will make you his. Gojo doesn't know anything about what he's feeling other than being away from you is feeling more and more nauseating and the clock is ticking on time where you remain at his side.
He doesn't know what to do, doesn't know how to change. His behaviors get more severe. His provocation becomes more intense, like he's testing you to see if you'll leave. You never do, but you never change. Always the same impossible distance Gojo cannot close. It's slowly starting to make him insane, the desire growing thicker like vines.
The firs time Gojo offers to properly fuck you, it's a last ditch attempt to somehow win you over. To give you something no one else can, with some blind hope that he'll be good enough to give you what you need. He coaxes you, promises to make you feel good. He thinks he's trying to self-soothe. It's felt like a losing game from weeks and Gojo wants to move on, into you a little more.
When you're bent over the table in the study room with your knees knocking together - pussy spread, dripping as you hold yourself open, Gojo knows he's too far gone. When he hastily takes his cock out, rubs it against your folds and shivers from the euphoria of your whiny little pleas - he knows he's going to need this for the rest of his life.
He doesn't intend to make it a habit when he suggest, but as soon as he's all the way in, as soon as your toes curl and your body stiffens the feeling of his cock violating you from he inside he knows it'll become one.
"You love denying me but you like taking my dick so much," — Gojo hissed, nails digging inot the flesh of your hips — "Does it feel that good?"
"Yes," — You'd said in reply, shaking and clenching down — "Feels so good,"
It was a final nail in the coffin. The sound of your always neutral voice breaking. Images flashed of all the ways he could make you beg, make you give, make you fold under the weight of him. Compressing you had always felt cruel but what choice did he leave. We press flowers to keep them longer, even after they've already wilted.
Weeks pass and Gojo continues to listen to his own compulsion. The slow descent into madness begins toppling over, into itself and he spends that time doing all sorts of things and figuring what way she likes to make you cry most.
Fucking you in the backseat of his jaguar until you've painted the leather with sweat and sticky cum. Taking you wherever he pleases - in a crowded bathroom or in he middle of a busy party where you're only just busy hiding your tactics. His face under your dress in convenient places is his favorite.
Gojo has never taken the time to tease. Before hook-ups were one and done, quick. Now he takes you apart in his bed for hours, until your face is covered in a flush and your body is covered in marks like layers. Until you cry, beg, scream for him to stop dangling you over the cliff-side - ruining your orgasms until your convulsing.
You are at your prettiest when you're hitting his chest with a destitute cry. When the humiliation burns you from the inside and you're showing your truest, most desperate colors. It's the only time Gojo can feel secure in whatever the two of you have. He relaxes as you finally give in.
No one needs to know about the after. The sweaty kiss to your forehead and the mouth on your neck like he wants to devour you wholly. The sweet, hoarse whispers of good girl. All the pride, affection, laced carefully. Silent baths before he sends you home and he emptiness in his bed when the sheets are changed.
No one needs to know about how just last week Gojo made you utter the words "I like you," before he made you cum. No one needs tot know he does it every time. He can ignore the anxiety in his chest a while longer as long as he keeps going just like this.
Gojo Satoru is a king amongst men, but nothing at all against you.
