OF/sex worker reader who faked moans in content x loyal fan Ghost who's discovering this for the first time ? (afab but gender neutral y/n)
When he finally, finally, after months of steady support from afar — it had taken a while, in between missions, for him to really track you down — has you to himself, he thinks he's doing something wrong.
He's got you pulled flush against him, front to back, with your legs spread so he can touch that pretty cunt. He's barely even touched you so far. Not that anyone'd be able to tell, feeling how wet you are for him, he thinks. But he's barely started and you're already making these noises.
Ghost has been watching your content as often as possible since he found it months ago. He knows what you sound like — or at least he thought he did. Instead of the loud, confident moans that he is rapidly realizing sounded a little fake, he's hearing whimpering, gasping moans slip from your lips. They spill out like you almost can't help it.
"Sweetheart," Ghost rumbles. He presses his lips close to your ear so you have no choice but hear him. All the collabs he was forced to sit through while imagining himself in your partners' places flits through his mind. You never sounded like this. "Did none o' them make you feel good, love?"
You suddenly go a little quiet. Were probably hoping he wouldn't call you out on it, huh? That won't do, though. Ghost roughly circles your clit with the pads of his fingers until you can't help but whine under his attention, and then he asks again. He's certain of your answer even before you nod, head jerking as you twitch under his fingers.
"Poor thing," he rumbles into your ear, voice low. "Don't worry, sweetheart, we got all night. I'll take care of ya."
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Five minutes later and you still can’t move your arms and legs.
It’s a weird feeling. The skin on your arms and legs tingle, like they’ve fallen asleep, but no matter how hard you try, you can’t move them. The most you can do is weakly twitch your fingers and toes.
Your vision blurs every few seconds but you can see enough to recognize this is not your home.
It’s some kind of unfinished basement. Fluorescent lights flicker and hum above you. The air smells musty and reeks of mold.
Oh my God.
It’s all what you can think over and over as panic starts to overtake your body. Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God–
“Oh, you’re awake!”
You might’ve screamed if you weren’t gagged by a rag.
Your vision blurs again, but when you finally refocus, the setting changes. In front of you stands a masked man dressed in green and black from head to toe. You couldn’t see his eyes, they were covered by orange visors. Still, you recognized him.
Everyone in your town knew him. He was the local psychopath that was terrorizing your city for years.
“I’m glad you made it!” Vigilante continues, oblivious to your panic. “I definitely thought I went overboard with the sedative there. Sorry about that! I’m not used to taking people alive.” He laughs and you instantly feel sick at how cheerful he sounds.
He squats down to your level, examining you. You shrink away from him, but considering how weak you were and your bound wrists and ankles, you didn't get very far.
He takes a minute, fully taking in your limp form, before he hums in satisfaction. Your heartbeat slows the tiniest bit, but you don’t feel any safer.
You know what Vigilante can do. You’ve seen the pictures of people brutalized and massacred. It was horrifying, but you thought you could avoid him by making sure to get home before dark, stay indoors, be a normal person, stay out of the spotlight.
Maybe that’s exactly what led you to be tied up in a musty basement, right at his mercy.
“Are you thirsty?” He suddenly asks. You stare. “Are you hungry? I make a great PB&J.” He gloats through his mask.
When you remain quiet, he smacks his forehead with a sigh.
“Right.” He trails off. “You can’t talk. My bad! Here, lemme–”
He leans forward. Before you can flinch, the rag is pulled from your lips. You lay there for a moment, taking in deep breaths for your lungs.
“...please let me go…” your voice is dull and slurs in places. You still aren’t in full control of your mouth or your voice.
Vigilante just shakes his head, sitting down next to you. He wags a finger in your face.
“You know I can’t do that,” his voice is sympathetic but still light, “you did something really bad.”
Bad? What the fuck was this psycho talking about? You wanted to yell at him, but you were still terrified to move.
He seems more than happy to talk without you even asking. Gloved hands reach over to your fingers, barely grazing them. The nausea in your stomach only grows.
“I was really disappointed when you did it, too,” he tells you, “other than that, you were so perfect! No crimes. No drugs. No littering. Your record was spotless, it’s what I really liked about you, too.” He shakes his head and clicks his tongue.
“What?” Your voice feels so far away. “What–what did I do?”
You can feel his eyes through those orange visors.
“Jaywalking,” he finally says.
You can only stare.
“In this county, that’s a 200 dollar fine.” Vigilante points out.
You suddenly remember something. There was a reason this man called himself Vigilante. He didn’t just go after criminals. Drug lords, robbers, other killers weren’t the only ones on his plate. He’s killed people over fucking graffiti. He serves his own version of justice.
To a deranged bastard like him, there was no moral difference between murdering an innocent person and crossing a road with no crosswalk.
This was a joke. You wanted to laugh.
You start crying instead.
“I’m sorry.” You blabber, words spitting out. “I’m sorry–I–I really am–”
You hush when gloved fingers reach for your cheek. He slowly wipes away your tears. It’s the sort of comfort a butcher gives a lamb, right before he raises the knife.
“Y’know, I usually get annoyed when people cry,” he tells you gently, “but you’re so pretty.”
The admiration in his voice is enough to make you stop weeping. There’s a chill down your spine.
Vigilante grabs a box of tissues, dabbing away at your sensitive cheeks until the wetness is gone and your skin is left irritated.
“I really should’ve killed you,” he tells you after a minute. “I mean, I’ve done it for others. It’s really not fair that I let you off the hook, right? But you were so nice to me, I think I grew a soft spot…” He trails off.
You register his words. You’ve never met this man in your life. And yet, his voice sounds really familiar like–
“So, I brought you here!” He gestures to the rest of the run-down basement. “This is where you’ll be until we can finally fix you up.”
You helplessly stare at your captor.
“I mean, it’s not like you did it on purpose, right?” He looks at you, and his voice sharpens ever so slight.
“It was an accident, right?”
You nod.
He immediately brightens.
“I knew it!” You flinch when he pats your head.
“So that’s why you have to stay down here, until you’re all better, okay?” He stands up, easily towering over your limp body.
“I’m kinda’ excited about this.” He admits and you feel like you’re not supposed to hear this. You’re forced to anyway. “It’s like rehabilitation sorta’, right?”
You don’t answer. He’s not looking for a response.
He walks to the edge of the basement. Before he opens the door, he says:
“I’ll go make that sandwich now.” He looks back. “Be good.”
You nod.
The door slams hard enough to rattle the basement.
“HELP ME! SOMEONE HELP!” it was the middle of the night and no one was out. you were all alone when someone had snatched your purse and ran. you chase after them, screaming for help, but no one was coming. you follow them into an alley and before you could continue screaming, a familiar voice comes from behind you.
“woah woah, what’s the issue here, cutie?” you turn to see spider-man standing before you.
“s-someone t-took my p-purse.” tears streaked your face as you sobbed.
he tilts his head and lifts his hand, “this purse?” you blink. your purse hung from his arm.
the relief came in waves, “oh my god thank you so much-” as you reach for the purse, he tosses it into the air and webs it to onto the wall of the alley. “-what are you…”
“since i helped you, you can help me, can’t you?” his voice was deep, and as he moved closer, you could feel your heart in your throat.
“y-you’re not spider-man, spider-man wouldn’t…” you back up, alarms going off in your head.
you hear him sigh, “spider-man has needs too, you know…. i mean, it’s only fair." you back up, looking around for a way to get out, “uh oh babe, are you trying to run?” before you could move, you feel your arm slam against the wall. “just stay still.” he grabs your other arm, forcing it against the wall, and webs it. you try to struggle, but you weren’t budging.
“please d-” your words were silenced as he webs your mouth closed.
“for today, i’d prefer your mouth closed.” his spandex-clad fingers go under your shirt, “god, how i’d love to really feel your skin.” chills go down your spine and you choke on your sobs. he coos, softly, his hands wandering down to grope your ass.
you try to scream through the webs, but your sound comes out strangled and muffled. spider-man taps your butt, “we don’t have much time, jump up and wrap your legs around me.” you shake your head and he huffs, “don’t be difficult. the faster we get this done, the better it’ll be for you.” he tilts his head. you test the webs trapping your arms once more, seeing no change, you try to jump in little space you have. he makes sure to grab your ass, letting you wrap your legs around his waist. you could feel his hard cock under the suit, pressing against your cunt. you let out a panicked sound at the feeling. he groans, letting his head drop to your shoulder. slowly, he rolls his hip into you, pressing himself closer. you let out a muffled moan and you hear him chuckle.
“i wish i could taste you.” he groans into your ear, as he grinds against you. you could feel heat starting to pool at your abdomen as he gets rougher. “my good girl, my pretty girl.” his voice was dripping in pleasure as he breathlessly groaned, getting faster. you couldn’t hold back your moans and spider-man gets faster hearing you. you let out muffled pleas, as you feel the coil tighten in your abdomen. “i hear you, cutie, i hear you.” he grinds you against him for the final time and you feel that coil snap as pleasure washes over you in waves. you hear him groan and slump, pulling you as close as he could without hurting you.
a few minutes pass before spider-man collects himself, letting your legs drop to the ground, “this-” he gestures between the two of you, “-was great. let’s do this again sometimes.” he blows you a kiss and swings away, leaving you attached to the wall. after another 15 minutes, you feel the webs start to disintegrate. you rip your arms out and pull the webs covering your mouth off, letting you loudly sob. you snatch your purse off and dig out your phone, in between your choked whimpers.
the phone rings for a few minutes, before he picks up, “p-peter? c-could you come pick me up? p-please?”
his voice was sympathetic, “god, of course, (y/n)… i’ll be right there.”
Unauthorized Access - Stalker! Neighbor!Gojo Satoru x F!Reader:
Tags: Implied stalking, CCTV hacking, neighbors
Jujutsu Kaisen:
Knock. Knock.
Knock. Knock.
KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.
As you repeatedly knocked at your rowdy neighbor's door, the blasting music from inside pained your ears. Oh, this person was getting an earful from you. Who plays such loud music at 1 in the night?! Enough is enough! And it doesn't help that the walls of this housing scheme are as thin as paper. You could feel every single beat, every single note, every single vibration, everything through the wall separating your houses!
Knocking went unnoticed, so you decided to bang at his door. "Hello???"
Then, it swung open, and to say that you were stunned breathless, was an understatement. From inside, emerged the most jaw-droppingly handsome man you ever saw. With a height of 6'2, this man had the most flawless and glowy fair skin, his defined jaw a compliment to his even more defined body. Dressed in a black open button down shirt and black pants with black polished shoes, he reeked of Sauvage. His snow hair was majestic. With lipstick marks littered across his jaw and neck, he leveled you with an appraising, intense yet slow stare through his shades.
"Are you the tenant here?" you cleared your throat, trying to stay on track.
He whistled lowly, removing his shades as he leaned to your level, his cyan blue eyes absolutely gorgeous. "And what if I am, sweetheart?"
"Then you— you need to learn to keep the music down!" you huffed, folding your arms, but the warmth of your arms did nothing to cover your exposed skin in your night dress.
"Ohh, did I wake you up, poor baby?" he arrogantly smirked, eyeing you like a snack. "Do you go to fight every man in a skimpy lil' night dress, or am I just special?"
It was then you realized your, erm, lack of proper dressing. With an off shoulder, thigh length mini babydoll night dress and matching thigh highs, you had taken a shawl to cover up. Yet, his searing eyes seemingly saw through your measly cover-up.
"Y-You! No, I! Whatever, just keep the music down!" you glared.
"Whatever you say, doll~!" he smirked, blowing you a kiss as he went back inside.
Something about your gut said that he was trouble. And you were known for being a troublemaker. True to his word, the music died down.
The next day, you were out for a jog in your apartment complex when you noticed the man from yesterday, jogging on the track even before you. You huffed, continuing your jog as you tried to run past him, but something inside you told you that you were being stared at. Hard. And instantly, he was jogging beside you backwards.
"Hey, the doll from yesterday!" he called out from beside you, but you kept running.
Mom always told you to steer clear of trouble.
"Yo! Wait up, princess! Damn— were you an athlete in your past life?!" he ran beside you, speeding up as he grabbed your arm. "Waiiiiit."
You turned, looking at him. "What? Make it quick."
"As a sorry for annoying my sweetheart lil' neighbor, here!" with a grin, he handed you your favourite snack. BBQ chips.
"Wait, what??? How did you know that I like these?" you stared at him skeptically.
"Don'tcha remember? We were in the same elevator once. And you were eating these."
"Huh?? I don't remember ever sharing an elevator with you? Thank you, though," you reluctantly said, opening the packet to eat a few chips.
You really didn't share an elevator with him. Ever.
"Also! Gimme your number."
You spluttered. "Why? We just met!"
"Awww, c'mon. You don't wanna?" he feigned sadness.
Hesitantly, you took his phone to put your number in it.
"Perfect. Name's Satoru. Hit me up sometime!" with a wink that flipped your traitorous heart, he strolled away confidently.
It was finally Friday night! You spent the entire day with your friends, going to clubs, parties, shopping sprees and eating food. It was a blast. And now it's 2 am and you're waiting for the elevator to open so you can use it. For some reason, this little time period never passes! 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.... Finally!
As you stepped inside the elevator, you pressed the button for your floor. Though, in a second, the elevator doors were jammed by a perfectly polished black shoe. And then, Satoru walked in with a girl by his side. As the girl chatted on and on with him, his eyes never left your body. Up, down, stopping at certain areas, then repeat. Suddenly, you felt your dress' hemline a bit too short.
The girl, noticing Satoru's obvious interest in you, glared at him and stormed off the elevator before it closed, not before giving him a shove. He clicked his tongue, his eyes back at you. "Yo."
"Hi."
"Lookin' like a snack."
"Yeah."
"Got a date?"
"No?"
"Good."
"Why're you interrogating me anyways? Aren't you supposed to go after your girlfriend?" you eyed him suspiciously.
"Oh, no, darlin'. She ain't my girlfriend," he leaned in, smirking. "I don't do commitments."
"Figured," you fixed your dress as you waited.
"Got a boyfriend?"
"No."
"Husband?"
"No."
"So you're single, huh?" he grinned. "Cm'here."
Full of suspicion, you leaned closer, only for him to whisper in your ear. "I already knew that."
With those words, he turned around and went to his apartment. As he took out his keys, a handkerchief fell out of his pocket. The one you lost in the residency laundromat. First the BBQ chips you never ate in front of him, then him oddly knowing that you're single when you just met him a week ago without any mutuals, and now the handkerchief you lost. What is happening???
And then it hit you.
No wonder your CCTV cameras had been showing this error ever since Satoru shifted to your floor.
Unauthorized access.
Thank you for reading! Here's the link for part two. I hope you enjoyed. Gojo sends you some candy 🍬. Do send requests for more! 💙
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Wrote a little something based off this AU prompt.
There was a knock on his door.
Ford paused, considering. He certainly wasn’t expecting anyone, seeing as he’d just moved into his newly finished house today and was currently unpacking. Perhaps it was a neighbour coming to welcoming him to the town? Except no. Ford didn’t really have neighbours, seeing how far up a dirt road his house was from everyone else.
Frankly, he had no idea who could be knocking at his door. The mystery lit a burning curiosity in him, and Ford found himself making his way through piles of unpacked boxes to the front door. He wiped his sweaty palms on his pants before grabbing the handle and pulling it open to reveal—
“Heya, Ford.” Stan gave him a lopsided grin and a friendly wave. He had a bulging duffle-bag slung over one shoulder, and behind him his car was parked right next to Ford’s.
Ford gaped, stunned beyond words.
Stan wasted no time in shouldering past him and walking into the house like he owned it, looking around curiously. “So these are our new digs, huh?”
“Huh?” Ford echoed, lost.
“Wow, you sure have a lot of stuff here,” Stan continued as if he hadn’t heard anything, wandering further down the hall. “Have you claimed a bedroom yet or do I get first pick?”
Ford stuttered. “I… You—! What?”
His mind was still trying to wrap around the idea that his estranged twin brother, who he had not seen nor spoken to in years, had suddenly just shown up at his door out of nowhere. Why was Stan here? How had he known Ford was here? Ford hadn’t even given anyone his new phone number or address yet!
“Ford, hey!”
Ford flinched as a light pain registered between his eyebrows. He rubbed the spot with a grumble, eyeing Stan who was now right in front of him, hand still raised as if to flick Ford’s forehead again.
“I asked if you wanted to order pizza,” Stan said. “Since we’re still in the middle of unpacking and all, it’ll be easier to order something than cook tonight. Doesn’t have to be pizza, though. Any takeout works for me, I’m not picky.”
Ford wondered if this was how students who couldn’t keep up with their teachers felt. He was so incredibly lost right now. What was even happening?
“What?”
Stan rolled his eyes. “Takeout, Ford. You can pick the place.”
“No, that’s not what I—”
Stan was walking away from him. At some point he’d dropped the duffle-bag somewhere, and was now opening random boxes and poking through Ford’s things.
Ford found his shock quickly burned away by irritation. “Hey! Stop touching my stuff!”
He stomped after his brother and yanked a pair of binoculars from Stan’s hands.
“Haha, what do you have those for? Peeping on the ladies?” Stan teased.
“Birdwatching,” Ford corrected him flatly.
Stan blew a raspberry and made a gaging sound. “Nerd!”
Ford was going to hit him.
“Why are you in my house?” he snapped, angrily jabbing Stan in the chest. “What are you even doing here? We haven’t spoken in years and you decide to just show up uninvited and let yourself in?”
Stan snorted. “I didn’t let myself in, you opened the door for me.”
“Well then I’ll open it again for you to get out!” Ford yelled.
“Yeesh, chill out, Six. I know you haven’t slept in thirty-six hours, but you don’t gotta take it out on me.”
“Wha—I…” Ford hadn’t slept in about thirty-six hours, it was true. But… “How did you know that?”
Stan just clapped him on the shoulder with a friendly smile. “Cause I’m your brother, duh. Now, do you got a local phonebook, or what? I wanna see what our takeout options are.”
Ford shook his head as if he could get all his scrambled brains back into place. Then he marched after Stan, who had once again taken off through the house, presumably in search of a phonebook.
“There is no ‘our’!” Ford shouted after him. “What kind of audacity do you even have to just come in here like nothing happened and demand dinner?! I’ll have you know you are trespassing on my private property and I demand you leave. Now!”
Ford hadn’t often allowed himself to wonder what it might be like when he and Stan saw each other for the first time since the science fair incident. When he did allow it, he usually imagined Stan finally maturing enough to contact him and apologize for what he’d done. Never in his wildest dreams had he pictured Stan just waltzing back into his life like nothing had happened.
“No.”
Ford blinked. “What?”
“I said no,” Stan repeated casually. “I’m not leaving.”
Ford sputtered angrily. “You can’t just—! Go home, Stanley!”
Stan looked at him as if Ford was being ridiculous. “I am home.”
“You don’t live here!” Ford was certain his face was fully red from how furious he was.
“Umm, I think you’ll find all my stuff in one of the bedrooms, so I’m pretty sure I do,” Stan laughed.
He laughed.
Ford made a noise akin to a boiling kettle. “If you don’t leave right now, I am going to call the police!”
“Sure thing, Sixer.” Stan walked away from him yet again, calling back, “And hey, if you do, ask them their opinion on the best takeout places in town, okay? I wanna try something good tonight!”
Ford could only scream wordlessly in rage and confusion as his brother made himself at home.
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Read pt. 2 here!
Summary: Dabi's roommate Shigaraki wasn't a bad guy. He was just quiet. Quiet, but always around. You can't help the man for being a little curious, no?
Cw: stalking behaviors, suggestive, no smut, no quirks
Word count: 781
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Hangouts were always at Dabi’s. He made that clear. And that was fine, apart from the roommate he had. He wasn’t bad, just quiet. Quiet yet always around.
You first noticed him several weeks into hanging out at Dabi’s. He mentioned his roommate but his door was always closed so you never got to see the man in all his glory. Until he shuffled out of his room when you and Dabi were making dinner one night.
His roommate nearly froze when you looked at him.
“H-Hello!” your smile beamed, cutting through the shadow his shaggy hair threw across his face. A head nod was all you got in return.
The next time you saw him, you were coming in and taking your shoes off. He was on the couch in the dark living room, face illuminated by the tv as he played some video game.
“Hello!” You chirped.
“Huh?”
“Hello? I said?”
“Oh, hey.” His voice was shaky, matching his visuals perfectly.
“I never asked your name.”
“Shigaraki.” he stated bluntly before putting his headphone back over his ear.
Again, he wasn’t a bad roommate- just quiet. The few times you suggested inviting Shigaraki in your activities, Dabi rejected the idea. Said he’d say no anyways, there was no point. But the more you hung around the apartment, the more you saw him. Lingering. Far away enough that conversation would be awkward, but close enough that you could have sworn he was looking at you. Did he want to say something? Was he nervous?
Shigaraki wasn’t nervous. He was intrigued. He just didn’t know how to show it. It’s not like you were his friend, and Dabi could be the aggressive type, so he didn’t bother trying to get close to you. But man was he interested.
His nights consisted of putting his ear up to their shared wall to catch a muffled version of your laugh. He would deliberately come out of his room if he heard Dabi’s door open only to slam his shut if he saw Dabi instead of you walking out. The few small interactions you have had with him fueled him for days. Shigaraki would pump his cock to the memory of your smile, voice, anything. And it only got worse. One night when you decided to stay over, he swore he heard a moan come from Dabi’s room when you two were supposed to be asleep. While he was seething with jealousy, he couldn’t help but get hard. That small moan made him finish at least 5 times, his mind imagining you in every position he’s ever wanted to try. You riding him so he could stare at your blissed out face, hitting it from the back so he could watch your ass jiggle, his mind thought of it all.
The next morning, Shigaraki was already out in the kitchen making food for everyone.
“Since when did you cook?” Dabi huffs.
“You had a guest, figured I’d do something nice.”
“You made a few eggs and toast. Real fancy, Shigs.”
“Dabi, stop it,” you slap his arm, “that was very nice of you Shigaraki, thank you.” You smile, stealing a piece of bacon as you walk by. Shigaraki just grunts as you do so, lowering his face so his hair hides his red cheeks. You missed the sharp inhale he took as you passed by, but he could feel himself growing in his pants when he caught a whiff of your vanilla perfume and sex that you had yet to shower off.
“Going to shower! Use the bathroom now or forever hold your peace,” you chuckled as you slid into the bathroom.
Dabi ignored you, taking a piece of toast and disappearing back into his room. Shigaraki, on the other hand, had another idea in mind.
Once he heard the shower turn on, he made his way to the bathroom door, ear pressed against it. He could hear the fall of your clothes as you stripped and the shower curtain being pulled back. After about five minutes, he carefully turned the handle and opened the door, peeking inside before fully entering. He was quick to swipe your panties, pocketing them before making his exit. He was held up in his room for the remainder of the day. He didn’t care that you’d notice them missing, either. Maybe that meant you’d knock on his door and accuse him. Come on in, let him help you find them. He promised he would never, and he seems so nice- he made you breakfast, remember?
He promises he would never do something you don’t want. He’s just intrigued, is all. A little curiosity never hurt anyone, right?
