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#I’m never turning on anon asks ever again
houseofevanbuckley · 19 hours
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Not even going anon for this q... please give us all more parents!bucktommy!!!!
Oh lord … I’m obsessed with them as parents, so it’s not a hardship at all
I want to go back to the start though, to how this family started.
They’ve been together for a few months when they have their first talk about having kids. Buck was babysitting Jee and took her to Tommy’s place since he has a garden and Tommy can’t stop thinking about it for days afterward. Buck in his garden with a kid. The sight was just so good, the way they played and ran around together.
Tommy can’t stop thinking about it. And it’s not the first time he thinks about it, to be honest. He loved to see Buck talking and helping Christopher with his homework and anything, really. Spending the day all three of them at a museum or park while Eddie can spend time with Marisol or for himself.
Tommy actually loves to make a date of anytime they have to babysit the kids, taking them all outside, parks, museums, theme parks, beach, you name it, and Tommy took them there.
So while they cuddle one day, he just asks if Buck ever thought about having his own one day.
And Buck turns around to look at Tommy, because he feels that as innocent as the question is, it is a sign of their growth as a couple, of Tommy thinking long term and he has to face the man for it.
Buck, who talks about how he felt when he held the baby, that he helped to conceive, for a few minutes and how his life just came to a halt. How seeing Jee for the first time on her mom’s chest had his heart squeezed.
He always assumed that his life would fall in line, the wife, the house, the kids.
But if he let the wife cliche go, he still thinks that he’d like the rest. The house, the kids.
And what he doesn’t say, the husband.
Tommy just hugs him tighter and confesses that when he came out, letting go of the potential of having kids was the hardest part, but that with how the world change he wanted to believe in it again.
It absolutely unlocks something between them, this talk of the future, of a future together and of shared dream.
That’s why when two years later, after their wedding, after their new house, Hen and Karen go to them when they had a call for a little boy. A three months old. The child is orphaned, no dad or grandparents filed anywhere, and no one is still alive on his mother's side.
They already had three foster kids, in addition to Denny so having a fifth child in the house would be a challenge, one that they would embrace but when the worker asked them if they had people in mind that would take the boy they thought of Buck and Tommy.
The boys who look at each other, hands clasping together while Karen shows pictures of a small blond boy bundled up in a green blanket.
Buck is the one who asks, “what do we have to do?” and by the squeezing he feels around his fingers from Tommy, it was the right thing to say.
Thanks to Karen and Hen having been exemplary in all the years of them taking kids in, and because it’s a baby, the process is sped up. Not that it’s fast or easy.
Just after the visit, Buck goes on a cleaning spree, pulling out a clipboard and going full Clipboard!Buck on himself and Tommy. The house has never been this clean since they moved in.
The garden is mowed, plants and trees are pruned.
Tommy has even been sent on the roof to clean it and he did with a smile, seeing how serious and excited Buck was, making himself even more excited for this new adventure with his husband.
When they go back to their respective stations after their two days off, each of them gather letters of recommendation and characters from their teams, which also announce to them all that they want to welcome that baby boy in their house.
It takes them a week to have the house ready and their letters from everyone, filling their foster parents’ file with the help of Hen and Karen.
Buck vibrating out of his skin each night while they cuddle, and Tommy doesn’t count how many times he caught Buck on baby clothes websites, but he’s just as bad as him. Having screenshoted so many cute onesies, his ads are now only baby formula and toys.
It takes them one more week before they get a call back from the agency for a first visit of their house and an interview.
They have to wait for three days for a feedback of that visit. Buck is a wreck and Tommy had been asked to stay grounded with how distracted he’s been.
Finally, they get a call for a second visit at their house with two workers this time. The questions are more in-depth.
A few days letter they have a call from Bobby saying that they had a call from the agency to talk about Buck and Tommy. And a day later, Lucy calls them with the same news. Quickly enough, Maddie and Tommy’s brother were called as well.
It takes them one more month, random visits and calls before they get the call.
They can take Noah home starting four days from now.
Buck pulls the clipboard out again, but this time he enrolls everyone.
Maddie and Chimney are sent to the shop to get the formula and diapers, mountains of each.
Tommy and Eddie are painting the guest room, Noah’s room. They agreed on a soft forest green for the walls, and blue for the ceiling with small white clouds.
Buck has Pinterest boards, ok? And he’s going to make this room the best room for a child.
May and Denny went to the shop to pick up plushies and games.
Buck is finally ordering all the onesies he and Tommy saw online and baby proofing the whole house: one cupboard, one drawer, one window at a time.
Bobby making food for them all and helping where he can.
One week later, the social worker come to their house. They’re alone. They wanted to welcome him, just them. Noah will be presented on Sunday to the whole family, but now it’s Thursday and the next 3 days are theirs, and only theirs.
Buck is the one to open the door, his breathing stuttering and his blood pumping in his ears, until he fully opens the door and his eyes fall on the car seat where Noah sleeps and everything quiet down.
He hasn’t felt this calm and quiet since his and Tommy’s first kiss, but after all, his world is changing again today and shouldn’t it warrant the same reaction?
The worker enters and does a last inspection, more a formality than anything else, but it could still mean that she’d leave with Noah.
She goes around the house and leave Noah in his seat in their living room where Buck and Tommy can’t stop looking at his sleeping form.
Finally, she comes back from her inspection and sees how they are hugging and looking at the seat and she can see how excited they are, how much they already love the little boy.
“Do you want to take him?” she asks, and Buck looks at her with watery eyes and nods.
She goes to the seat to free Noah from it and carry him toward Buck’s, who’s himself held by Tommy, and she very gently places Noah in his arms.
Tommy and him looks down at the boy. They know that for now it’s only a temporary placement, that anything could happen. But Noah is in their arms now and they couldn’t feel happier or more complete.
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morgana-larkin · 2 days
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Hi!! I absolutely ADORE your writing!! This is my first request so please don’t get mad 🙏🏾🙏🏾!!
Long story short Melissa accidentally snaps on the reader and the reader ignores her for gives her blunt responses for the rest of the day and Melissa makes it up to her 😏😏
PSA: it doesn’t have to be smut!!! That’s just the first thing that came to mind!
Hi!! I’m so happy you love my writing! And anon never feel guilty about sending a prompt, I was not mad in the slightest. I had a lot of fun writing this and it honestly took me over a day as I kept getting distracted. And obviously I’m gonna include smut if you ask for it. Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!
On another note: I’m still taking requests, I currently have 10 prompts to get too and 3 other pieces I’m doing, so please be patient if you send one!
Side note: don’t know if the gif fits but she looks so hot with that pen in her mouth 🫠
Make Up and Make Out
Warnings: feisty Mel, swearing, smut
Words: 3.5k
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You and Melissa have been dating for 2 months now. While it’s still new, you know that you and Melissa love each other even if neither of you have said those 3 words yet. The Abbott crew knows, they were the ones that set you two up when they got tired that neither of you got your head out of your ass and asked the other one out.
It’s Friday morning and you're walking in through the doors of Abbott. You walk in and immediately see Melissa stomping angrily across the floor to her classroom. You decide to go and check on her and see what’s upsetting her.
You knock and open her door. “Melissa?” You say gently and she turns to look at you.
“What?” She bites out and you are taken back but you don’t take it personally.
“I came to check on you, you seem upset.” You tell her.
“I’m fine.” She grits out and you walk closer to her.
“You sure?” You press.
“Yes I’m fine, I just want to be left alone.” She tells you.
“You don’t seem fine.” You push. And Melissa is trying not to take her anger out on you but with everything going on and you keep pushing, her anger is rising.
“Y/n please leave. I want to be alone.” She spits out.
“Mel, if something is going on with you then I’m here for you.” You tell her and then Melissa explodes.
“Y/N! I DON’T WANT YOU HERE! I TOLD YOU TO LEAVE! DON’T YOU EVER LISTEN OR ARE YOU JUST STUPID!” She yells at you and you admit that it hurt.
“I’m sorry, I’ll let you be.” You tell her defeated and you look down at the ground as you leave her classroom.
As soon as you close her door, a couple tears spring to your eyes and you head to your own classroom which is down the hallway
Melissa silently stews in her classroom until the kids get there. She ran into Joe and his new wife this morning at the gas station. She seemed really happy with him, and it just reminded her of her marriage with him. She was happy at first too, and then it slowly declined. What if it happens again with you? She didn’t want to be with you due to her issues and feelings with relationships but after getting to know what it would be like to be with you, she couldn’t stay away. She’s thinking if maybe she should stay with you or let you go so you can go live your life with someone else that doesn’t have the issues she does.
The morning passes by and she’s seen you a few times in the hall but you ignored her every time. She knows she hurt you this morning when you came to check on her and she should apologise, but too many thoughts are swirling in her head, concerning you and your relationship.
At lunch in the break room, you walk in and get a coffee ready without even looking at Melissa and she sighs. You just get a coffee with your back turned to her, Melissa stands up and walks over to stand beside you.
“Y/n?” She says and you just glance at her before resuming what you were doing. “Can we talk after school at my place?” She says to you and you furrow your eyebrows. Is she really going to break up with you.
“I’m busy after school.” You tell her.
“With what?” She questions. You originally had plans tonight to see each other so she thought that might still happen.
“None of your business.” You bite out and she sighs.
“What about tomorrow?” She tries and you roll your eyes. You grab your lunch from the fridge, grab your coffee and leave. Leaving a hurt Melissa behind.
Once you get to your classroom, you close and lock your door. You then sit down at your desk and you sigh. You bring your knees up to your chest and you curl in on yourself.
The afternoon goes just how the morning went, everytime Melissa sees you and either waves or tries to talk to you, you ignore her.
When all the students leave, Melissa sits back in her chair and sighs. She’s worried that you guys aren’t going to last much longer and it’s all because of her. In that moment, she hears a knock at her door and she looks, hoping it’s you.
“Oh, hey Barb.” She says when she sees Barb standing there looking worried.
“Hey dear.” She says and enters, she closes the door and walks over to the redhead. “I’ve noticed some tension between you and y/n today.” She says and Melissa groans.
“I know, I yelled at her this morning by accident and she’s avoiding me and I don’t blame her.” Melissa says and covers her face with her hands.
“Why did you yell at her?” Barb says and brings one of the students chairs over to Melissa’s desk and sits on it.
“I ran into Joe and his new wife at the gas station this morning. She seemed really happy with him.” She says and removed her hands from her face
“I feel like there’s more to this.” Barb pushes. “Cause I doubt you still have feelings for Joe.”
“Ya there’s more. It made me think of how happy I was with him at first, before the problems started. And I thought, what if it happens with y/n too? Should I just back out now? And all those thoughts kept swirling around in my head and she saw that I was upset and came to check on me. She tried to get me to talk to her and I kept telling her to leave me alone, and when she didn’t, I snapped at her.” Melissa says and Barb looks at her, processing what Melissa just told her.
“Melissa, I know you know this but I think you need to hear it, y/n is not Joe. Your relationship with her is different than your relationship with Joe.”
“I know, and she’s so young Barb. What if I fuck her up the way that my marriage with Joe fucked me up?” Melissa says.
“Melissa I can’t give you what you need, I can’t give you reassurance because I don’t know the future. But maybe that’s a good thing. Why worry about the future when you should focus on the present.” Barb tells her.
“Easier said than done.” She says and sighs.
“I know. But answer this Melissa, do you want to lose y/n?” She asks and that catches Melissa off guard. She was thinking at the beginning of the day that maybe you’ll be better off without her but then she got upset when you started ignoring her. After getting a taste of what it would be like to not have you anymore today, she wants to stay with you. She hated that you ignored her today.
“No.” Is all Melissa says but it Barb knew how much thought Melissa put in to that answer.
“Then you need to apologise and explain.” She tells her.
“I want to do that right now but she said she has plans right now.” Melissa says and Barb chuckles.
“She lied, she has nothing going on.” Barb tells her.
“How do you know?”
“Because I ran into her on the way here and I asked her about her plans tonight and she said she’s staying home and possibly watch movies.” She tells her. And at that Melissa gets up and gathers her things.
“Thanks Barb.” Melissa tells her and she runs to her car.
Barb shakes her head and smiles. “I love those two but they can be such idiots.” She tells herself and then leaves to go home.
Melissa drives to your place and gets out and sprints to your door then knocks. You hear the knock but you don’t feel like getting up from the couch, so you ignore it.
Melissa thinks maybe you didn’t hear it so she knocks again but louder. You hear the louder knock and you get up as someone is here to talk to you and is willing to knock twice. You open the door and see Melissa there and your heartbeat speeds up. You think maybe she’s here to end things.
“Melissa.” You say.
“Hi, can I come in?” She asks.
“If you’re here to break up with me, I’d rather you just do it here.” You tell her.
“Well then luckily I’m not here to break up with you.” She tells you and you look at her confused. “I’m here to apologise for this morning and to explain what happened.” She says and you move to the side to let her in. She walks in and goes to your couch to sit down and you join her after closing the door.
“Ok, so what happened this morning then?” You ask and she takes a deep breath.
“I ran into Joe and his new wife this morning at the gas station.“ She starts and you put an arm on the top of the couch and lean your head on your hand and look at Melissa. “She looked happy with him, and it reminded me of when he and I were married. I was that happy as well, but only for a few years. And it made me think about us and what if it happens again like it did with Joe. I don’t have the best track record when it comes to relationships. A failed marriage and failed proposal isn’t something to brag about. I don’t want to ruin relationships for you either. I thought maybe it would be best if I let you go now and you could go live your best life without me.” She tells you and you look at her surprised. “Then when you went to check up on me, all those thoughts were spiralling and you kept pushing and I snapped and I’m sorry. When you were ignoring me today, I basically got a taste of life without you and I don’t want that life.” She tells you and then looks at your eyes. “I hope you still want to be with me, because I still want to be with you.” She tells you and you stare at her, mouth open.
“What if this happens again? And that time you actually break up with me?” You ask her and Melissa looks down with guilt, it was a fair question.
“I can’t promise you what you want to hear, I don’t know what’s going to happen, and it scares me too.” She looks up at you. “But right now I want to be with you. I love you.” She says and you look at her stunned. She said it, those 3 words.
“You love me?” You ask her and she nods.
“I do, I love you very much.” She tells you and you smile at her.
“I love you too.” You tell her and she looks at you shocked then she smiles. “And of course I want to stay with you.” You tell her and she beams.
She leans forward, she cups your cheek and she kisses you. You kiss her back immediately and you run your fingers through her beautiful ginger locks.
“Let me make it up to you. I want to show you how much I love you.” She tells you when she pulls back. You look at her a little breathless from the kiss and you nod. You two haven’t had sex yet as you were taking it slow. You couldn’t believe your luck today. It started out shitty but then she tells you she loves you and then wants to have sex.
She stands up and gets you to stand up too, then she picks you up bridal style and carries you to your bedroom. She places you on the bed, then straddles your lap and kisses you deeply.
She pulls your shirt up and you two break away from the kiss for a second then go right back to kissing. She snakes her hands to your back and unclips your bra, before she gets a chance, you take it off and throw it to the ground. Melissa laughs at your eagerness then pulls back to get a good look at you. She places her hands on you and touches you everywhere. “You have such a beautiful body.” She tells you and you smile.
“You’ve only seen half of it.”
“Ya, and I love what I’m seeing already.” She says to you and you blush. She then pushes you down and you lay on your back. She kisses your lips then she sneaks a kiss on your nose and forehead and you giggle. She then goes to one of your ears and licks and sucks on it. She then goes to your other ear and does the same thing, she wants both sides to get the same amount of attention.
After, she travels down to your neck, she kisses it and sucks in the middle and you gasp and arch your back. She ends up leaving 4 hickeys on your neck, 2 on each side, before travelling down to your chest. She leaves kisses all over your chest before putting a nipple in her mouth and sucking. While sucking and licking the nipple, she unbuttons your jeans, pulls the zipper down and sneaks her hand in your jeans and underwear. She pulls back from the nipple at the same time you gasp when her finger finds your clit. She then gets off the bed and takes off your remaining clothes, goes on her knees, pulls your body towards her and connects her mouth with your pussy.
“OMG!” You say. You’ve had sex before but for some reason many girls don’t want to do oral, which is a shame as it’s your favourite. You feel her smirk after you say that and you look down at her and she’s indeed smiling. She looks up with her eyes at you and sees you looking at her, and that’s when she decides to connect her tongue with your clit. You gasp and grab her hair, she moans as you grab and pull her hair a bit. The moan vibrates on your clit and you buck your hips, Melissa has to pin you down to stop you from moving. She doesn’t stop, she knows you’re close by the way you’re shaking. You come with a gasp seconds later and Melissa licks it all up.
She gets up and takes her shirt and pants off, then motions for you to move to the head of the bed, which you do. She then climbs on top of you and kisses your lips. You taste yourself on her and you moan and grab her head, deepening the kiss. Then she slips her tongue in and you lose all thought, except the thought of her. You reach her back and you unclip her bra and take it off. You want to feel all of her without clothing in the way. Once the bra is off you put your hands back on her back and feel all over, she has such soft skin and want to be able to feel it forever. You then migrate to her front and put your hands on her stomach and feel all of it and moan. You then move up and feel her neck then move down to her chest and cup her boobs. This time she moans and you begin playing with her nipples. You break apart from the kiss and Melissa can’t stop kissing you and moves down to kiss your neck.
“Hmm Melissa, please, I want your nipples in my mouth.” You tell her and she smiles. She knows you’re more of a breast girl as she’s caught you looking at her breasts more than her ass. She pulls away from your neck and slides up a bit so her boobs are in your face. You put one nipple in your mouth and put your hand on the boob and cup it while your other hand is playing with the other.
Melissa feels as you suck and move your tongue all over her nipple and she moans. Of course all her sexual partners that she’s had have always been interested in her boobs as they’re big. But all of them never really know how to properly use their mouth on them. But it seems you know exactly what to do to make her let out so many sounds. Then she realises that all her past partners also never did something else well and she wants you to try it.
Once you’re almost done with her second nipple, she speaks up. “My love, Amore?” She says and you pull back and you look at each other. “There’s something that I’ve always wanted to do and was wondering if you’d be interested.” She says and you look at her and smile.
“What is it?” You ask her and she bites her lip.
“Face sitting.” She says and you look at her.
“With you on someone’s face or someone on yours?” You ask.
“With me on someone’s face.” She says and looks down a bit embarrassed. You bring a hand to her chin and make her look up.
“What are you waiting for then? Come sit on my face.” You say excitedly and she beams.
“Really?”
“Ya, come on.” You tell her and she strips her underwear off then she moves up, grips the headboard and lowers herself on your mouth. Before she’s fully on she looks at you concerned.
“If you need air then like tap my leg 3 times or something.” She says and you nod.
She lowers herself fully and your tongue is immediately all over her entrance and she gasps. With your experienced tongue all over her pussy, it doesn’t take long until she’s grinding on your mouth. You have to hold her legs so she doesn’t block your air flow and you move to her clit. She’s moaning and gasping as you’re sucking and licking her clit so well and she’s starting to shake. She comes 10 seconds later and it all goes in your mouth and on your face.
She gets up and moves back down and kisses you. “Thank you.” She tells you.
“Of course.” You tell her and Melissa can tell that you’re turned on so much right now and moves her hand down to your entrance and pushes a finger in. You gasp and she starts sliding it in and out and then she adds another. She adds a thumb to your clit and you’re trying to grind but her body on yours is stopping you from moving. Then you realise her body is on yours, and you could move your thigh up straight to her core, so you do.
“Oh, fuck.” She says when your thigh is putting pressure on her core. “What are you doing?” She says and slows her movements down.
“Wanting you to grind on my leg.” You say and she raises her eyebrows at you.
“How about I can grind on your leg after I make you come?” She offers and you nod and lower your leg. She speeds up her movements and you’re moaning and gasping. Not too long after you come and she slows down before pulling out of you and she licks her fingers that were inside of you. She then moves to straddle her thigh and starts grinding on it as promised. You can’t help but stare at this beautiful woman, who’s also your girlfriend, grinding on your leg. You put your hands on her hips to help and you tense up your thigh to give her more pleasure. “Oh god, y/n.” She moans out and she brings one of your hands to her boob to get more pleasure and you put your other hand on her ass and cup a cheek. “Do I feel nice and wet on your thigh baby?” She asks you and the only thing you can do is nod as the rest of your brain power has fucked off. “Hmm, you make me so wet, you and that magical tongue of yours.” She gasps out and you smile. She comes seconds later and you feel it drop on your thigh.
She pulls off of you and grabs the Kleenex on your nightstand and cleans you both up. She then lays down beside you and you both catch your breath. She looks at you and sees you’re already staring at her and she opens her arms out with a “come here” and you go and cuddle into her.
“I’m still so sorry for snapping at you.” She tells you and you completely forgot about that.
“It’s ok, I forgive you. And honestly, I forgot about it.” You say and she giggles.
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yin-yanglulu · 9 months
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*sighs*
I got another stupid anon ask (I really need to stop turning on my anons bc of this)
This time they were calling me homophobic because apparently Calynn is “shipping a canonical lesbian with a man”
Anon, have you seen anything of Skylanders? Or are you just wanting to pick a fight?
Bc Cali has also been canonically shown to be attracted to a male character (that obviously being Flynn)
I’m not saying that bi/pan headcanons for Cali are bad, in fact I headcanon her as bi myself, same goes for Flynn
So yeah, anon, I call total bs, fuck off with this t*rf/r*df*m rhetoric!
Biphobes/Panphobes DNI! y’all stink!
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woundedheartwithin · 2 months
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Something y’all need to know about me is, if I message you or tag you or send you an ask or comment or address you in the tags, I am NOT expecting an answer! Not ever, and I mean that. I will not get upset if you never reply to it, and this is for two reasons:
1. I know intimately how stressful and scary and exhausting notifications can be, especially when you’re not feeling so great mentally/physically/emotionally, and I will automatically assume this is the case if I don’t get a reply, even if I see you actively posting on my dash
2. I have already forgotten that I sent you something
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nanaslutt · 6 months
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Geto def gets off to being called a pervert
I see the vision clear as day anon, i hope you enjoy<3
Geto is so dirty in this holy........
contains: fem reader, roomate!geto, panty thief, teasing, dirty talk, degradation, praise, accidental voyeurism, mating press, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (reader receiving), cum eating, geto is nasttyyyyyy, slight crack at the end, shoko makes an appearance :p
MDNI
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔
“Suguru can I borrow that band tee you were wearing the other day? I’m about to go out with shoko.” you scrolled on some social media site on the sofa while you called out for your roommate in the kitchen.
Head hanging upside down off the armrest, looking at his naked back in your twisted view, waiting for his response.
Geto peeked his head briefly over his shoulder from the counter he faced, letting out a short laugh before he replied, wanting to ask if the ridiculous positions you came up with were actually comfortable.
Saving his smart remark for another day and responding that he didn’t care, followed by the location of the tshirt.
Picking up your body you placed one foot in front of the other, making quick work for his room, voice ringing out in the hall, “thanks!”
“Shoko said she’s heading here soon so I should probably start getting ready.” you shouted from his room, reaching for his second dresser drawer, where he said it would be.
Pulling the nob back and messing up his carefully folded clothes as you pulled out shirt after shirt, unfolding it to get a better view of the piece before shoving it back in when it ultimately wasn’t what you were looking for.
Eyebrows scrunching inwards when your sights landed on a piece of bright pink fabric shoved deep in the bottom of the drawer. Not remembering suguru ever wear anything like it, you pulled it out.
And you really don’t remember him wearing anything like this.
Because what you were holding between your fingers was your panties.
Jaw dropping slightly in disbelief, head turning back towards the doorway you just walked through, before snapping your neck back in front of you and digging deeper.
“Where are you guys going?” he questioned, yelling from the kitchen as he chopped up some vegetables, back facing the direction of his room.
A decent sized pile was forming of the undergarments you thought you had lost the deeper you looked. You were fuming.
Between Suguru and yourself, you divided the chores up evenly the day you moved in together. Him opting to be on laundry duty over trash, both splitting the dishes.
Never once did the thought even cross your mind that they might’ve been kidnapped by your usually sweet roommate; who is in charge of handling those same panties every day; when you were unable to find them anywhere in your space.
You scoffed in disbeleif at his antics, tongue poking the inside of your ckeek, making it bulge.
You heard him say your name from the kitchen when you didnt answer his question.
Wading up the thieved panties in your fist, you stormed out of his room. Stomping down the hall at a much hastier pace than before, his toned back once agains came into your view.
Geto paused his chopping, muscles in his body going rigid, because he swears you just threw something at his back.
Turning his body to face you, he looked down at the underwear at his feet, a smirk creeping onto his face when he drags his sights back up, making eye contact with your furious expression, brain racing with questions only he could answer.
"Whoops," he says, not an ounce of remorse in his tone. He could practically see the steam coming off of the top of your head when your face scrunched up in a scowl.
"What the fuck were you doing with my panties, do you have any idea how long I've been looking for some of those!?", he feels the anger in the air with your every word.
"You sure you want me to answer that?" he giggles, crossing his arms over his bulging pecs, letting the weight off one of his legs as he braced his lower back into the counter.
"Oh my god!" you shook your head, "you're such a fucking pervert!" you shouted.
"Woah, you don't even know what I did with them yet. Don't you think you're jumping to conclusions when you call me that, huh?" he retaliated, faux offense gracing his features before a more smug look took its place.
"There is no non..." throwing your hands up in search of the right word, "freaky explanation as to why you hid my PANTIES suguru!" Lip curled up in frustration again when laughed at your retort, “so I think my choice of words was fitting." you finished, referring to the name you called him.
"Haha! yeahh, you might be right." both hands dropped from his chest and slid into his pockets. "I wrapped them around my cock a couple of times when I was jerkin' off." An amused look sticking to his face when your jaw dropped in speechlessness, face turning completely red at his confession.
"Came all over the crotch of ur pretty panties too, pretended it was ur pussy." his big mouth continued spilling his dirty secrets out into the open air.
"Y-you," stuttering as you felt the air around you shifting into a heavier one, one that you both picked up on, heart racing in your chest matching the throbbing between your legs as you spoke, "pervert."
----
"F-fucking pervert, fuck!" you moaned into the air when his curved cock drilled perfectly into the most sensitive spot inside you for the nth time that evening.
Really hoping Shoko was taking her time as Suguru held your thighs open by your head, pushing your flexability to the limits as he bullied his thick cock inside your gushing pussy.
"Yeah? tell me how fucking nasty I am baby," he groaned with a smile. Eyes not being able to choose their favorite sight as he looked between where the two of you were connected; your cum making a ring form around the base of his cock; and your pretty drooling face that was looking so fucked out.
"S-so f-fucking disgusting for st-ealin' my dirty panties sugu-ru." words getting broken up by your pleasured moans as he brought his hips back till just the tip of his cock was caught on the rim of your little hole, before fucking it back in with such force it made you dizzy.
"C-cant believe you would d-o that." whining loudly when his thick thumb came down to rub circles into your throbbing bud.
Geto felt a tingling sensation of pleasure jolt through his spine at your harsh words, "M' sorry baby," he lied between his teeth, "got tired of seein’ ur cute little ass walk around the house in basically nothing." cooing at you when you squeezed your cunt tightly around his length at his filthy words, "h-had to do something about it,"
The both of you bounced against the bed as you let out loud Ah's and curses in response to his mean thrusts.
"Nothin' compares to this tho," Geto smiled, rubbing your clit faster when he noticed it made you tighten up your pussy, "Fucking ur pretty little pussy like this is so much better than my fist 'n holdin' ur panties against my face."
"S-suguru thats so nas-tyyy." you drawled out when he picked up his pace, fucking into you with such force and speed you thought you were gonna pass out.
Leaning his body into yours, practically crushing you with his weight with your legs dangling over his shoulders, he brought his face just inches from yours, lips grazing each others at his rough thrusts jolting you both around.
"Is it?" he replied to your declaration, opening his mouth and moaning against your lips before he closed the distance, " Felt so fucking good tho," he laughed against you, pushing his tongue into your mouth, his groans mixing with your squeals.
Less of a kiss and more of him just crushing his jaw into your own as he overwhelmed you with his tongue. Greedily inhaling your moans into his lungs as he continued his assult on your sensitive clit.
"Sugu' 'm gonna cum, fuck-" you mumbled against his wet lips. His own high-creeping rapidly up on him, feeling his balls tighten as they slapped against your ass.
"Me too baby m-me too," eyes squeezing together and eyebrows furrowing, thumb against your clit becoming sloppy as he started to lose himself, "gonna let this pervert fill you up, huh?" he babbled, breaking the kiss and buring his head in the crook of your neck while he messily sucked and kissed the skin there.
"Gonna take a-all my fucking cum like a good girl?" his moans raising in pitch, goosebumbs forming on the back of his neck hearing your loud whines and moans go straight into his ear.
"P-please, give it to me, please." you begged, "fu-ck, c-coming," you managed to voice before your cunt constricted around him, squelching noises increasing when your pussy forced your orgasm out around him, "oh m-y go-d" you repeated as he fucked you through it.
Getting thrown into overstimulation as he repeatedly hit your g-spot, not being able to move his thumb off your clit, or even voice him to do so, "cum inside me sugu-ru," you whimpered into his ear, helping him reach his end. Squealing at his rough thrusts losing their once steady pace when he came.
He bit down hard on your neck, groaning and whining into the skin as he fucked his cum into your womb. Timing his heavy thrusts with the ropes of warm seed spurting out of his dick, pressing his balls hard into your ass each time he did, making sure he really filled you up.
Geto’s eyes rolled back in his head feeling the aftershocks of your orgasm spasm around his twitching dick, milking him for all he was worth. "holy shittt." you voiced at how full he was making you feel.
Your overstimulation died down when his brain was no longer able to function well enough to remind him to play with your clit, something you were grateful for.
He silently lifted his head from the crook of your neck and pulled his incredibly sensitive cock out of your warmth. Staring between the two of you to watch his cum drip out of you, his mouth watering.
Your own arm being draped over your face while you tried to catch your breath, blocking you from seeing his next moves.
Holding your legs up and spread by your calves, he leaned down to your pussy and started sucking on your folds.
Caught off gaurd at the simulation you shot your hands down to his head, trying to push him off you at the intense feeling of his fat tongue on your mound.
He forced his tongue into the tight ring of your cunt, greedily drinking up your combined cum and moaning at the taste. Your thighs twitched with the need to shut around his head at the vibration.
Detaching his mouth from your pussy with a 'pop' he sat back on his heels, your calves still in his large palms as he stared at your abused pussy, licking his lips clean.
"So much fucking tastier than your panties." He grinned.
"You really are disgusting Suguru." Shaking your head against the sheets as he finally let your legs drop back down to the mattress.
"Careful, my cock likes when you talk to me like that." He teases, meaning every word as he tucks his drenched cock back into his boxers,
"Whatever, take me to the bathroom please." You said, ignoring his previous comment, "Cant stand and I need to pee." Holding your arms out to him.
He giggled at your dramatics; even tho he really did fuck the strength out of your legs; scooping his palms under your thighs as you wrapped your arms around his neck.
He raised you from the bed in a princess cradle and started walking you to the bathroom, "You need to learn how to take it easy. Seriously." you chastised, noticing the bruises and bite marks on your neck when you walked past a mirror, "If this is how you're going to treat me when we fuck, you're better off sticking to stealing my panties, at least they won't feel what you do to them." you complained, only partially meaning your words, which he knew.
"Don't act like your pussy doesn't throb when you see how I marked you up." you rolled your eyes at his retort, making it to the bathroom that neighbors a wall with the kitchen. He placed you down on the seat of the toilet before backing up and leaning against the doorway, facing the doorframe parallel to him as he let you do your business.
"I just had to listen to you guys fuck each other like rabbits for ten minutes, please don't make me listen to you dirty talk each other outside of the bedroom too."
You knew that voice.
"Shoko! good to see you, didn't realize you made yourself at home." Geto snarkily remarked.
"Your pretty roomie gave me a key you big oaf, now go hide in your room for awhile kay?" she brushed her hand in the air, signaling him to fuck off, "Was suposed to take her out but its sounding like you broke her legs so.. well just watch a movie here." she sighed.
Geto brought his attention back to you once more. He had to fight back the laugh burning in his lungs when he saw your crimson face buried in your hands, shinji posing on the toilet in embarrassment.
Stupid fucking panty thief.
“pt.2” here
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cherry-leclerc · 2 months
Text
pride ☆ mv1
genre: smut, established relationship, stubborn!max, jealous!max, humor, fluff
word count: 3k
After his DNF, Max finds himself losing his temper when you keep insisting that it was his fault. Due to both ends, you find yourself in a constant battle on who can admit defeat first.
nsfw warning under the cut!
18+... gym sex - that's all teheee
req!...super fun to write, thank u, anon for the idea !!
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He never liked to be pointed out as the one who did something wrong on track. Then again, he rarely ever made those types of mistakes. Max got along with everyone on the grid, but he was there to win. And he certainly did not need his girlfriend reminding him that he’s human, just like the rest of the drivers.
“Just admit it already, you fucked up this time. You cut him off.”
A DNF was as bad as it could get, his mood quickly deteriorated as he bangs his helmet against the wall. If you weren’t used to his dark behavior, then you would have definitely worried. Instead, you tap your foot impatiently with a deep sigh, eyes rolling with strong annoyance. You didn’t like to see him like this, but it drove you crazy that he could never own up to his wrongdoings. 
The Dutch harshly rips off his balaclava, dirty blond hair sticking against his angry face, normally baby blue eyes switching to a devilish color. “You’re such a…” A deep growl. “He cut me off, and that’s what got us both out of the race. What a fucking dick.”
Your brow raises up, pointing at him with accusement. “My thoughts exactly.” Turning on your heel, you spin around and walk out of his driver's room, leaving him to sulk like a manchild. Stupid, Lando.
As soon as the race ends, you sheepishly make your way to the young Brit. “Is he mad?” he asks. You shrug as if you care about what your boyfriend is feeling at this very moment. Max wasn’t the kind to get mad, he got furious. 
“He’ll get over it. Though I do suggest you run the opposite way if you spot him.” He laughs, eyes crinkling with agreement. After apologizing on behalf of the grumpy Dutchman, you hurry off to find him. Propped up against the door frame, you nervously play with the hem of your dress as you inch your way closer. You can practically see the color red blooming out of him as he smiles bitterly.
“And where were you?” His voice expands softly, it makes your stomach churn, but you put on a brave face nonetheless, refusing to give in to his ego. It doesn’t matter. He chuckles, rolling his tongue against the inside of his cheek, head shaking in disapproval. “Aren’t I the one you should be consoling? I don’t see why you had to go see him.”
Your eyebrows narrow down sharply. “Max, you’re being a fucking baby, you caused the crash! Lando was just unlucky and I went to let him know, is that so wrong?”
The Dutch fumes, jaw clenching. “You can go see him, I don’t give a fuck, but stop saying it was my fault. He closed in on me.” You scoff, arms crossed. “This is pure bullshit.”
“Whatever, I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I’m glad you’re alright,” you sourly say, pushing past him to go and retrieve your things, getting ready to leave back to the hotel. His nose twitches, following after you. Neither of you utter a single word, simply packing and strolling out the door. As soon as the media gets involved and Lando walks by with a shy smile and wave, he instinctively grabs your hand, leading you through the tight crowd with a bright smile, despite his crash. 
Setting aside your differences, you’re grateful for his sweet gesture, even if it laces with a bit of possessiveness. The drive is tense, only the sound of the blinker being heard. You try adding some music, but as soon as he turns off the radio, you turn to him, hair slapping your flushed face. “Why did you do that?” Your hand slides back up, turning it on. He repeats his same actions, leaving you to burn lasers to the side of his head. 
“Your music is complete shit.” Surprised by his cold tone, your right eye twitches like a crazy person before turning your attention back towards the road. He feels bad. He’s not mad at you, not even at his friend. But he wasn’t the biggest fan of letting his team down, and much less, owning up to it. 
Pushing the door open, you march in, making your way to the bathroom, ready to shower off the irritation. Max trails after you without a second thought, then you slam the door right on his face. He blinks. He can hear you turning the water on, stripping down. “You’re taking a shower by yourself this time, you dickhead.”
-
The next few races run smoother as he finishes in first place for most of them. All of them, actually. But his wins aren’t worth it in the end. Not with your rigid congratulations, forced kisses as you wait for him along with a puddle of photographers. It shouldn’t strike him as strange; you were still upset. For a second, he considers putting his pride aside and try to fix things, make amends, but when you mumble next to him, he quickly throws that out the window. 
“Baby finally got fed his bottle.”
All his pent up emotions came rushing back as you wear an innocent smile. With a sullen glare, he walks out, leaving you to gloat. Two can play that game. 
Here’s the thing with yours and Max's relationship; it was amazing. A fucking dream. You loved each other like crazy, but when you both get into an argument, it can drag out for the longest time. Your friends had pointed it out countless times, accusing you two for being freakishly stubborn. Oftentimes, he’d be the first to give up and apologize, and sometimes it was you. Only this time, it looked like a long haul. 
It was a weird dynamic. He still kissed you goodbye, reminded you how much he loved you. You still attended his races, glowed with sincere happiness for every podium of his, but apart from that, you two still held on to your end of the rope. And it’s been so long. One month? Maybe two?
“Four fucking months,” Max grunts, large hands fixing his drinking straw that connects to his suit. The Dutch is clearly frustrated, Checo could tell as he warily eyes his teammate. The Mexican driver poured out an amused chuckle. Max curls a dark brow. “What?”
Checo halts. “Nothing, man. You’re just being so…how do I put this nicely?” He clicks his fingers enthusiastically. “You’re acting like a douchebag. Puras pendejadas, lo que estás haciendo.” The blue eyed boy shakes his head.
“I don’t know what you mean by that.” He walks away.
“It means you’re doing stupid shit for absolutely no reason. Take it from me, I’m married! I know what I’m talking about, and as your elder, I suggest apologizing. It’ll fix everything, trust me.” But Max only ignores him, already climbing into his car. As much as he would love to try and make things right with the woman he adores like a complete idiot, there’s always something that ruins it. Whether it’s you witty reminders, or your cruel ignorance.
Though, he feels like he’s going crazy. He can feel his hands itch as they beg to hug you the way they were used to. Or to kiss your plump lips, slightly red from your constant nibbles. You can feel his eyes on you as you cut up a group of vegetables, getting things ready for dinner. Like a tease, you bend down to pick up the bag of carrots that had just fallen. You giggle. “Whoops.”
Abruptly, he stands up. “I’m going to get in a small workout before we eat.” That’s all. Left there with your jaw on the floor, you slam the knife against the cutting board. 
You missed him. You’d be insane not to. You missed cuddling with him after a long day. You missed the way he would cradle your face to kiss you eagerly after every win. Now it’s almost as if you’re a couple of strangers with the way he keeps a careful distance. And if he wasn’t going to fix things, then you would force him to.
He hears you before he actually sees you. Not a single word escapes past your lips as you skip closer. His molars grind together when he notices your tiny skirt, paired with a tank top. Perky tits salute him as he holds back a groan. Smiling sweetly, you start to stretch. “Thought I’d join you. Didn’t want to eat without you.”
His heart squeezes, ghostly nodding. Adjusting himself on the bench, he starts his set of overhead presses. Loopy eyes circle his glistening muscles as he pants tiredly, shaky breaths bouncing off of him. You have to physically stop yourself from drooling an entire ocean. 
The blue eyed boy leads an impressive set, a thin layer of sweat coating him like a blanket. One you would gladly roll around in. Pursing your lips, your limbs feel extremely weak all of a sudden and decide to settle with laying down and bringing your legs up, skirt sliding down, exposing your soft skin. 
“So tight,” you whine when you reach up, muscles tied up in an uncomfortable spot. Intrigued, your boyfriend takes a peek and instantly curses, large hands gripping against the metal bar. He gulps. “Maxie, can you push my legs back for me?”
His breath hitches. “No. I’m sure you can do that yourself.”
Sitting up straight, you squint your beady eyes at him as he distracts himself by adding more weight to his set. You click your tongue, a menacing grin tugging at your pink lips. “Messed up, baby, you are messed up.”
Max curses himself for falling in love with someone as beautiful as you. It seriously messed him up a concerning amount. Suddenly there was no more cold demeanor when it came to you. That simply just belonged to the rest because you were everything to him.
“First, you’re too much of a pussy to admit your mistakes and now you’re too scared to get near me?” You scoff. “It’s all starting to add up.”
Except at this very moment.  
“And what exactly is that? If you don’t mind me asking.” 
Kneeling down onto the black mat, you stretch your arms out against it, and lay your back flat. You hum. “Oh.” You arch your back, ass angling upwards where his eyes quickly trace to. You smirk. “Nothing.”
If he weren’t so impressed by your bratty act, he would have definitely walked out on you. But you just looked so pretty, rosy, and you were glistening. He wonders what else there was on top of that. The Dutch moves on to a bench press. Huffing, he grits his teeth as he extends his arm before puffing and bringing them back down.
The 26 year old, despite your attempts, was as focused as he could possibly be. The adrenaline was lingering in his entire system as he kept his eyes trained upward. Chest locking tightly, muscles contracting. And then he hears it. Your tiny moans, soft whimpers.
The loud sound of him dropping the weight makes you jump up a bit before looking up. He finds you in your first position you had started with when you first stepped foot into the home gym. He can feel his cock press harshly against his white shorts. “Why are you…” He trails off when your mouth drops open, brows scrunching together. Your thighs beg to be kissed. Slippery arms tug your legs closer to you as you giggle. 
“My legs are too tight.” His chest tightens. “Help me get more flexible?” you press innocently as you signal for him to push your legs. “Please, Maxie.”
Sighing, he nods. As soon as he steps close to you, he can feel your pouring lust, fuck me eyes staring back up at his frame. Grabbing the heels of your feet, he pushes back as you groan. “Oh shit.” You laugh, chest vibrating against the mat. “I really needed the extra push.”
He grimaces. A silence lingers between you two before you wiggle your left foot against his palm. He raises a confused brow. I’m going to tuck it to my chest. Just hold the right one. Doing as instructed, you sigh in relief, lashes fluttering. He holds back a much needed grunt. “You’re telling me you couldn’t do this yourself?”
You nip the air. “We’re not all professional athletes, Max. I needed you.”
You can see how hard your implication is hitting him as his gaze darkens. And just as he’s about to reach out for you, you wiggle your brows. Next leg. Snapping out of trance, he eyes the way your skirt rides down your skin. In a swift movement, he lets go and takes a staggered step back. You grin. What’s wrong?
“You’re crazy.”
Standing up, you place both hands on your waist. “Why?”
Max doesn’t even recall when he pins you against the wall, your hair flying from the impactful blow, and yet, you’re smirking. Kissing you harshly, you groan, leaning against your tippy toes as you struggle to breath. He seems to be lost in your lips as he cradles your face, teeth clashing against yours at the filthy action. “You’re so beautiful,” he pants, blues staring back. “So fucking beautiful.”
Whimpering, you reach back out for him, plump lips attacking his thick neck as he sighs. The purple bruises were definitely something he would hound you on tomorrow, but for now that was the least of his worries. Admiring the colorful spot, you lick it slowly. He shudders. 
“I can suck something else, you know?”
You almost don’t recognize his growl, for you haven’t heard it in so long, that it catches you by surprise as he spins you around, bending you over the nearest counter, where his wall of protein stands. He hitches your skirt up as you gasp when his fingers slide inside of you. The way he stretches you out makes you see stars as you struggle to keep upward. 
“Wore this just for me, right? You knew it would drive me crazy?” His long fingers curl at the perfect angle as you nod. Yes, yes. I wore it just for you. I knew you’d like it. You squeal when he lifts you up, tits pressing against the cold marble, legs dangling like a doll. His doll. He watches the way you swallow his digits. “I fucking love it, baby…”
Then, he’s down on his knees as he wraps his lips around your clit. Moaning loudly, you press your cheek against the cool tiles, saliva dripping out of your mouth at the sensation. In your fucked up state, you still reach out for him as he grabs your hand. “You taste so sweet,” he hums. You’re close to crying when he pulls away, but calm down when he thrusts into you. 
The Dutch throws his head back as soon as your velvety walls wrap around his cock, the way you swallow him whole. Makes him hate himself for holding onto his pride for so long. For keeping you away. His heart races when you prop yourself on your elbows as stare back at him with tired, lustful eyes. He grins, slapping your ass as you yelp. You ass tilts up as he watches you struggle to keep up. 
Warm hands come up to keep you close to him as you bite down on your lip. “You’re a fucking brat, but God, I hate it because you were right. I pushed him off. I did, I did, I did…” His dirty hair sticks against his face as you bounce forward with every pound. “But he was making you laugh - smile - and I just couldn’t handle that.”
Your heart stops. This was news to you because there was no way the Max you knew so well would break his winning streak all due to a friendly encounter. He pecks your bare shoulder. “I don’t think you understand how much I love you.”
“Then show me.”
WIth that, he holds onto your hips with more grip as his tip brushes repeatedly against your g-spot. You’re a mess, but he’s loving every second of it. As soon as he wraps a large hand around your breast, you’re gone, spluttering white all around him as he follows. With a croaky groan, he slips out as you fall back to your original spot. He chuckles. He fixes your skirt before helping you sit up to face him. Your eyes crinkle. 
“You love me,” you say in a sing-song voice as you poke his dimple. I thought I made that clear. You scrunch your nose, pecking his face all over with sloppy kisses. He playfully winces, but accepts nonetheless. “You love me, love me. Why would you ever worry about me and Lando? You know he’s just a friend.”
His smile drops as it's replaced with a scowl. “I wasn’t worried, per se. I don’t like someone else making you laugh. That’s my job.”
Your brows arch. “What are you suggesting? That I just keep mute for the rest of my days, unless I’m with you?”
Max shrugs. “Sounds like a solid plan.”
You smack his chest as he throws his head back with laughter. “No. Not a solid anything. Max, I love you.”
“I know,” he whispers. 
“Okay,” you confirm, fixing your posture, lips pursing. “But please never do that again, that’s just plain out dangerous and crazy. A big no-no, Emilian.” He glares and your lips wobble childishly. “You love wins, and I love celebrating them with you. It just works.”
“You know what doesn’t work?” he retorts as he hugs you. You hum, comfortable against his warmness. “Not talking to me for four months, what were you thinking?” You push him away abruptly. We spoke! “But we didn’t fuck, and that’s the same thing.”
Crossing your arms, you roll your eyes as he stares back in awe. “If you keep this up then I’m going to crank it up to eight,” you threaten. 
The Dutch nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck before you cave in. “Let’s not do that. You’d be breaking my heart.”
taglist: @myownwritings @d3kstar @crucifiedbitch
*note: i've only tagged those who asked to be included in general. i've kept that apart from the method acting series taglist!! lmk in which you would like to be, just in case!
2K notes · View notes
jamminvroomvroom · 3 months
Note
Now hear me out… Lando with a daddy kink. I rest my case (and send in my request).
heart to heart.
ln x fem!reader
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in which you’re heartbroken and lando knows exactly what you’ve always wanted.
oh, anon. how i love you. ngl haven’t written this trope much before so this was a baby-steps attempt… but it’s intense smut lmao. keep sending in requests guys, i’m getting through them (slowly)!! anyways enjoy, love you, tell me what you think <3
songs to set the mood: heart to heart by mac demarco
warnings: 18+ minors DNI!! smut, language, daddy kink (help), breeding kink (lord forgive me), friends to lovers (implied), mentions of cheating (not reader or lando), dom!lando, sub!reader
1.4k words
you’ve been friends for years.
sometimes it felt like the door was open for more, only to be quickly slammed shut when a cute barista handed you his number, or when lando slid into a bikini models dm’s. bottom line: it never ended up crossing that line and becoming more.
you’re crying on his couch when the line finally blurs.
“i just- i just thought…” you choke out a sob that cuts you off.
“what, honey?” lando coos, brushing some damp hairs away from your streaming eyes.
“i thought i’d marry him. how stupid is that?” you whimper. this is the worst breakup you’d gone through to date, and just like when anything goes wrong, lando is there with a spare shoulder for you to cry on. he always knew that your ex was a piece of shit but his warnings fell on deaf ears. “we talked about kids and houses. he asked me my fucking ring size.” you spat. all of this happened, of course, before you found out he’d been cheating on you with his boss’s assistant.
“you’re not stupid, honey.” lando pulls you in closer to his side.
you stay there for a while, letting the tears fall until there are no more left to cry and your face is drying up. your head rests on his shoulder, and when you turn it to look up at him, he’s already looking down at you.
pink lips are parted, slicked with a swipe of his tongue. two blue eyes turned to an icy grey dart between your own lustful pair and your lips, parted only to expel shallow, shaky breaths.
“kids and a nice big lawn, is that what you want?” he whispers. you shift against the couch, trying to hide the shiver the low gravelly tone of his voice shoots down your spine.
“mhm.” you nod slightly, sinking into his side and his eyes.
time speeds up for a moment; the hand he has wrapped around you finds your waist, and somehow he manoeuvres you onto his lap. it feels odd. odd, because it’s right. it’s new and yet it feels… familiar.
“why’d you waste all that time with those assholes, hm?” his voice is mocking, and your knees squeeze around his hips. “could’ve given you all that years ago. fucked a baby into you and put a nice, shiny ring on this finger.” lando pulls your ring finger between his lips, holding eye contact as he swirls his tongue around the digit. you tremble against him, his filthy words almost sending you slack against him.
“didn’t know you wanted me.” you pant.
“i’m gonna do things to you that will make sure that you never doubt me again.”
and he does.
you’re crying on his mattress, overstimulated, yet desperate for more. these are the only kind of tears he ever wants you to cry. he’s been between your legs for what feels like so long that hours could have passed and you wouldn’t question a thing. his tongue works over and over your throbbing clit and your hands rake through tangled curls.
“lando, please.” you chant, over and over again. you don’t know what you’re asking him for, but he seems to get it, because he doesn’t stop.
two fingers find your entrance, sodden with the remnants of more orgasms than you can count. in slides one, twisting deliciously before it’s joined by the second. you ascend, pretty much instantly, so overwhelmed by how good he’s managed to make you feel. your orgasm builds too quickly, and you’re dripping down his wrist before you can even tell him you’re close.
lando chuckles, tongue tracing the mess you’ve left as he shuffles on his knees between your legs. then, he’s hovering over you, balancing on one of his forearms whilst his other hand traces the curve of your body.
“having fun, honey?” he bumps his nose against yours, lips meeting yours a brief second later. it feels as good and as right the first time he kissed you earlier, and he licks into your mouth, deep and sensual. you moan into the kiss when you taste yourself on his tongue.
you can feel his cock brushing against your folds and you melt into the mattress, keening at his the feeling of him everywhere. your shaky hands skim his torso, feeling every dip and ridge under your fingertips. golden skin tenses, rippling flesh taut against your palms. your hips buck into his.
“tell me what you want, honey. need to hear you say it.”
“fuck me.” you mutter, rolling your hips once more. the angle you create means that his cock catches your folds and you can’t help but whine his name.
“how?” lando smirks, your chin trapped between his fingers. he makes you look at him, and you curse yourself for not doing this sooner.
“what you said earlier…” you choke out, trailing off.
“what did i say earlier?” he tease. you groan in frustration.
“please, lando.” you’re too hot, blush stains your cheeks and your neck.
“is my sweet girl getting shy?” he pecks your lips, kisses down your neck. when he reaches your ear, he tugs on the lobe. all you can feel is sharp teeth and warm breath. everything is slick.
“it’s okay, honey.” lando continues. “i remember. remember those wide eyes and pouty lips when i told you what i can give you. gonna make me a daddy, baby? finally gonna be mine?” he whispers, right into your ear. all you see is white.
finally.
“daddy.” you pant, when he finally slides into you, hard and deep.
“that’s it, baby.” lando grunts, hooking your thigh over his hip. you can feel the way his fingers dig in to your flesh, stopping him from falling apart instantly. his other hand takes your wrists, pushes them up the mattress until they’re pinned right above your head and he’s hovering over you, perfectly level. chest to chest, heart to heart.
shallow thrusts aid the deep grind of his hips, rolling slowly into yours. he’s everywhere, nothing separating your needy, flushed bodies. he never pulls all the way out, stays buried as deep as he can, and repeatedly hits that spot inside of you that allows you to see every star in the sky. you’re breathless, soundless, utterly helpless as you drown in him and everything he has to offer you.
you wonder if he’ll actually spill into you, mark you as his. it makes you dizzy, makes you shake, the idea of nothing stopping him from making such a mess between your spread legs. you want to beg for it but you can’t, the raging, wet pleasure in the pit of your belly rendering you speechless. all you manage is a dry plea of half of his name.
“lan-“ you begin, but he kisses the rest of the word out of his mouth.
“no, honey, that’s not my name.” he rasps, talks down to you in a way that pushes you even closer to sweet release.
“daddy. want you to be daddy.” you slur.
the reaction you get from him is worth every heartache you’ve ever suffered. his rhythm changes and now he’s slamming into you, and the sensation makes you cry some more, thick tears sliding down your neck which he tastes, licks away.
but then everything is soaking. you gush around him and his abs glisten. your throat burns from the scream, and then there’s silence, just for a moment.
“fucking hell.” he shudders, transfixed on the thin layer of you that seems to be everywhere.
he’s wrapped around you tight when he lets go, muttering unintelligible filth in your ear as he does. you stay intertwined for a moment, trying to piece together what you’d just done.
when lando eventually rolls off of you, he takes every inch of you in, a beautiful canvas covered in a memory. his eyes are warm again, soft. whatever had possessed him is long gone and he’s just lando again. your lando.
you attempt to wriggle across the mattress, seeking refuge in your forgotten pile of clothes on the floor. he stops you in your feeble attempts to peel your lifeless body off of his bed.
“hey, it’s okay, honey. let me look after you.” he coos, gentle sitting you up. “you okay?”
“thank you.” you whisper. your lips meet, fleetingly, delicate.
“‘m gonna take care of you, baby.” he promises. you believe him.
-
i don’t know what came over me lmao whoops
-
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iceandpeaches · 2 months
Note
hi idk if you know the summer i turned pretty but there’s a scene where a character says “My chest physically hurts not being able to tell her how. much I love her” and I can just imagine luke being in love with a poseidon!daughter where her dad doesn’t approve of anyone for her. He tells percy about his chest hurting and will catch glimpses of Luke actually placing a hand on his chest whenever percy’s sister is around or walks away 😫😫😫 bonus if he actually PRAYS to poseidon angst but fluff ughhh
oh anon you cooked… the praying to poseidon part made my own chest hurt hurt.. i'm kinda familiar with tsitp but i never watched it.. sorry this is kinda long!! i hope this was good🙈🙈🙈
my chest hurts; luke castellan
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for years, luke had been hopelessly in love with you. from the moment you step foot at camp after being attacked, he knew he wouldn’t love anybody other than you. he was excited he could spend time with you while you were still unclaimed, but upset when you were claimed by poseidon. he couldn’t spend every moment with you anymore, by your side, your best friend. 
he was devasted that he couldn’t see you from the moment he woke up till the moment he fell asleep. with you now residing in the quiet and slightly eery poseidon cabin, you were only part of his dreams if the gods allowed it.
and with poseidon being your father, he wanted to be in your life. which meant that with you and percy, he wanted to keep his children safe from the world and people that could harm you. which is why, poseidon declared to deny any boy who asked for his blessing to date you. upon hearing such, luke never gave up hope. he’d find a way to persuade your father, somehow. 
luke headed to your cabin to look for you, walking in since he knew it would be open. it wasn’t like there were hundreds of kids running in and out all day. 
“hey y/n– oh. is she not here?”
luke glanced down at your younger brother, sat by the body of water that sat in the middle of your cabin. poseidon kids. 
“yeah she’s.. mad at me right now. she went for a swim.”
“oh. then i’ll wait for her to come back.”
luke sat by percy, fingers tapping against the area that held a pool of water. he got bored after a while, turning to percy he stared out into the opening of the cabin door. 
“hey percy.. could i tell you something?”
“yeah, what’s up?”
“it’s just.. i want to be with y/n. i think about her all the time. and it hurts, like my chest physically hurts. to be able to tell her that i’m in love with her.”
luke gripped his shirt, thinking about every moment you smiled at him, laughed at his jokes, your eyes lighting up everytime you mention something about the water or going for a late night swim, every hug, everything you did. there was something so special about you, and he wanted you to know how special you were to him. percy watched as his friend’s grip tightened on a portion of his clothing, brows creased into a frown. 
an hour or so passed, and you’d come back from your cool off swim. luke’s lips curled into a gentle smile, noticing that your hair was wet which emphasised the curls in your hair. your expression brightened upon seeing luke, your towel wrapped around your shoulders.
“luke! what are you doing here?”
“well, you’re late.”
“to?”
“bracelet making with the hermes cabin.. duh! only the best cabin ever.”
you refrained from laughing, patting him on the back. you nod in acknowledgment, grabbing a fresh camp tee and a pair of shorts to slip into running toward the bathrooms to go change. luke smiled, feeling pressure in his chest again which caused him to grip his shirt as he followed behind you. 
for the next few days, luke’s chest hurt more than it usually did. for after every interaction with you, he had to take a moment to himself to breathe it out. several times percy had caught him with a hand on his chest whenever you’d walk away to tend to another camper’s needs. luke could’ve sworn he felt raindrops and thunder every now and then, hoping it wasn’t poseidon angry at him or something. 
luke tossed and turned in bed, the thought of you still fresh in his mind. you never left his mind, all he thought about was you. he slipped out of his bunk, then out a window to find a spot to burn an offering – not to his father, but yours. he lit a match, putting in into his tin can then burning away a piece of bread he had wanted to finish off in the morning which he’d miss most.
he watched the bread burn, tossing it into the small tin can. he fiddled with the drawstring of his hoodie, thinking of what he’d like to say as a prayer to your father.
“hi mr poseidon. i am luke castellan. son of.. hermes. i.. i don’t know how to explain this.”
he fumbled with his words, his mind incapable of configuring sentences he would’ve formerly said to the poseidon. it was messing with his brain. 
“i like your daughter. and i know that, you’d want her to have a guy good enough for her. i may not be that guy but.. i was hoping.. am i saying that right? uh.. i’m seeking for your blessing to, give me a shot?”
“i want to be that guy for her. i’ll take care of your daughter with my life, i’ll be there for her when no one else can. i promise, sir. i’ll love her, comfort her, take her side no matter what…”
he gulped, the flame dancing as he spoke. he wasn’t sure if poseidon would hear into his concerns, but it was worth trying. he hesitated to seal his promise, but he loved you. he’d do anything for you.
“sir, i’ll take good care of her. i promise.”
it almost sounded too desperate. luke blew out the flame, heading back to his cabin to not get caught by harpies. his heartfelt confession made his burden slightly lighter, actually being able to sleep this time.
"luke castellan, son of hermes. i've heard your prayer."
huh? who was that? luke opened his eyes, seeing the god of the seas in front of him. he swallowed the lump in his throat, bowing down only to feel poseidon's hand on his shoulder.
"will you keep to your promise? everything you said?"
luke glanced up at the god, nodding. yes. everything he said in his prayer. he'd keep to his promise. poseidon was staring him down, luke slightly intimidated by the death glare the god was giving him. the god's eyes reminded him of your eyes, every wave reflected in them.
"yes, sir. i will keep to my promise."
"how will i know for sure?"
huh? luke thought he'd made it clear with his intentions. but then he remembered – poseidon would deny him. poseidon would've never cared what luke had said in prayer, poseidon already deemed him unfit (like any other man) to date his daughter.
"but si–"
"you already know what i'm going to say, luke castellan."
"sir plea–"
luke woke up sweating. he looked around as he caught his breath, was that real? or was that all a dream? did poseidon really visit him in his dream? his chest hurt. his chest ached. his chest felt it was burning. for all he knew, he might've just lost his chance to love you. he didn't know if he could leave his cabin when morning came, he just wanted to disappear.
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colonelarr0w · 2 months
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Hiiii i really like reading some angst stuffs so heres my idea loll!
What about reader never felt like they were ever loved romantically and has been quite the loner for a while. So, to have Gojo confess to the reader has reader confused, but quite happy, but will soon find out that its a dare and Gojo only has the end of the year to make reader date him! (Just say the current month is near december loll)
But as time goes by, Gojo starts to actually have feelings for reader and suddenly reader overheard their convo of Gojo with his friends about the dare...
(PLS IM SORRY IF THIS IS TOO SPECIFIC THISIS ONE OF MY FIRST TIMES REQUESTING SMTHHH. BTW YOU CAN CHANGE THE GOJO TO ANYONE ELSE :3AND ALSO YOU CAN CHOOSE WETHER TO HAVE COMFORT OR NAH. AND THANKS FOR GIVING YOUR TIME TO READ THIS HAVE A NICE DAYY)
-🍰
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Sypnosis - Gojo was already known to be a heartbreaker, but you didn't stop to think for a second that maybe -- just maybe -- he was trying to break your heart too.
Warning(s) - mature themes, foul language, Gojo is a MAJOR dick in this one, angst
Word Count - 3.1k
A/N - Hi Anon! (STOP IM CRYING I LOVE EMOJI ANONS SO MUCH) So you made the mistake of giving me an angst prompt while also saying that I could maybe add comfort. I will be doing no such thing. Kisses!
! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !
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Satoru Gojo was, by every single standard, a lady’s man.  
And you, by every single standard, were the complete opposite of every man’s “ideal type”. 
How you managed to find yourself in a situation where you told others, “I’m dating Satoru Gojo,” felt like a fever dream constructed by the hardest drug.  
The way in which he asked you out was — well — Satoru Gojo. A grand white banner with your name scrawled into it, underneath it the words: Go out with me?  
Of course you accepted, though you were thoroughly confused. You had always been an observer from the shadows, not emerging unless it was absolutely necessary.  
To have the Satoru Gojo ask you out in front of a gaggle of people was off putting — and certainly not anything that you had expected.  
But none of that stopped you from saying yes, which made the snowy-haired male’s smile widen three times in size — if that was even possible.  
“C’mon Satoru, it’s an easy 2,500 Yen,” Geto says, a sly smirk curling the corner of his mouth upward as he leans over the back of the couch. 
Gojo sighs, jutting out his bottom lip as one of his hands busies itself with running through his hair. It wasn’t a terrible bet — even though the payoff didn’t exactly feel worth it.  
“2,500 Yen to ask her out?” Gojo confirms, turning his head and glancing over the rims of his glasses. Geto smirks again, turning his phone and flashing a picture of you at Gojo, just to make sure that he would be asking out the right person. 
“2,500 Yen,” Geto nods. Gojo sighs, his body slumping forward dramatically. Geto grins again, watching his best friend crack down — no way was he turning down a bet that he could easily secure. 
“Fine, you have a deal,” Gojo holds his hand out, failing to hold back the smirk that curls his mouth upward as Geto slaps his hand against Gojo’s. 
The two shake on it, and the bet is made. 
But, of course, you were oblivious to all of that. You believed that, for the very first time, someone looked at you in a way that wasn’t strictly platonic. Someone loved you — really, truly loved you. 
And what an extravagant partner Gojo was, buying you small trinkets that he believed you would like, taking you to restaurants that you had looked at on the street for a moment too long — he had even forced himself to learn how to ice skate because you mentioned offhandedly that it would be nice to skate with someone.  
For the first time in a very long time, you felt connected to someone. Conversations flowed so easily between you both, never forced or uncomfortable. It was as if you had known each other your entire lives.  
Gojo knew that it was fake — you thought it was truly real.  
< … > 
“(Y/N)! There you are!” Gojo calls out with a flashy wave of his arm. Once you’re in reach of him, he latches onto you, nose nuzzling into your hair. 
You let out a startled squeak at the force of his body against yours, but immediately loosen up and return his embrace, snuggling as deeply as you can into his arms.  
“Satoru!” you laugh out breathlessly, squeezing his shoulders as he lifts you from the ground, easily spinning the both of you in a circle. “You act like you haven’t seen me in years.” 
Gojo rolls his eyes dramatically, setting you down but keeping his arms locked around your waist. He gaze meets yours through the darkened lenses of his glasses, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.  
“Oh god, I know that look,” you mutter teasingly, which earns you an affectionate pinch to your side — one that you swat him away for.  
“You wound me,” Gojo sasses back, releasing you only to place a hand flat against his chest as if he had been stabbed. You roll your eyes, laughing breathily at his antics.  
“What do you want to do tonight? It’s date night,” you remind him, watching as his face breaks into a bright smile. He reaches for you again, lifting your hand and twirling you around before he tugs you to his chest. 
“I was thinking-“ he begins in a sing-song tone. You raise an eyebrow at him, which he quickly leans in to peck. “-we go to the movies, get some cheap froyo, and crash in your dorm.” 
You smile at him, eyes crinkling adorably at the corners as you throw your arms around his neck, squeezing him. 
“Yes please!” 
< … > 
“The movies? Froyo? God, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re falling for her,” Geto mocks the motion of throwing up, earning a laugh from the snowy-haired boy that stands next to him.  
Gojo rolls his eyes, catching the basketball that Geto throws at his chest. He bounces it once against the ground before taking a shot, smirking as it swishes inaudibly into the basket.  
“I want her to at least believe it,” Gojo responds with an indifferent shrug of his shoulders. Geto rolls his eyes, biting back the chuckle that rises in his throat. “What? I’m not lying.” 
“No, I know you’re not lying,” Geto bends to pick up the abandoned basketball, bouncing it against the ground and taking a shot of his own — which misses. 
“So then why the sudden comment?” 
“Because of the look in your eyes whenever someone mentions her or whenever you see her,” Geto says plainly, turning to cross his arms at Gojo.  
He purses his lips together, eyebrows pinching in confusion as he silently urges Geto to continue. How he looks at you? 
Geto sighs through his nose, then lifting his fingers to pinch at its bridge. The basketball is long abandoned now, rolling into the center of the gym and remaining there.  
“Every time she calls out to you with that — stupid nickname, you brighten up like a dog who’s seeing his owner,” Geto points out. Gojo can feel the tips of his ears burn red at that — because even he knew that it was true. 
“Toru! There you are!” you call out affectionately, crossing the training fields and practically jumping into Gojo’s awaiting arms. 
He smiles warmly as your face nestles into the junction between his neck and shoulder, breathing in the familiarity of your scent and holding you close to him. 
“That isn’t true,” he murmurs, scratching at the back of his neck. Geto stands still for a moment, staring at Gojo with a look that could easily slaughter an entire town.  
“No? How about when she made you lunch that one time?” Geto raises his eyebrow — his eyes visually calling bullshit as Gojo’s cheeks burn the same shade of red as his ears.  
“Ta-da!” you smile widely as you present Gojo with the intricately put-together bento box. He takes it from your hands, allowing his fingers to brush against your own for a moment too long — an action that brought a light blush to your cheeks.  
He smiles down at the bento you had prepared for him, feeling his heart swell at the idea that someone cared enough about him to sit down and put so much thought into preparing him a lunch. Gojo is quick to then lean in, pecking your cheek and smiling widely at the dark red hue that coats your face. 
“That’s…different,” Gojo tries to argue, but Geto is quick to call out his bluff, laughing loudly in his friend’s face and striding towards the center of the gym to retrieve the abandoned basketball. He bends, scooping it into his palms and bouncing it twice against the ground.  
“Oh, I’m sure that it is,” Geto rolls his eyes, twisting his body and shooting the basketball — already displaying annoyance when it misses yet again.  
Gojo sighs, the puff of air he releases blowing his bangs from his face. He watches as Geto goes to retrieve the basketball, bouncing it once before roughly checking it to Gojo.  
“Careful Satoru, I wouldn’t want you to fall for her,” Geto teases, feeling himself smirk as Gojo’s hands catch the basketball. The snowy-haired male rolls his eyes in response, bouncing the ball. 
“That won’t happen, trust me,” Gojo bites back, not failing to notice the knowing glint in Geto’s eyes.  
“Sure it won’t.” 
< … > 
Hey! I’m at the theatre, where are you? 
READ 
Satoru? 
READ 
I’m just assuming you’re running late, just text me when you’re here! 
DELIVERED 
Puffing out the air that you held in your cheeks, you stow your phone away into your pocket, eyes silently scanning the front entrance of the theatre. Maybe you missed him? No, there was no tuft of snowy-white hair anywhere in the crowd — surely he was just running late.  
You shuffle on your feet, adjusting the small bag that you had brought with you. The interior is stuffed with snacks that both you and Gojo enjoyed — including his favorite from the local convenience store. You smile to yourself, already picturing the wide smile that would cross his face when you presented him with the snacks.  
Your phone buzzes in your pocket, which you all but dive for with a speed that feels almost inhuman. You stare down at the illuminated screen, heart deflating as you realize it’s only a message from your mother, checking in and asking you how your date with Gojo was going.  
Lifting a shaky hand to your eyes, you wipe away the tears that cling to your bottom lash line. You text your mother back, lying to her about the state of the date and pushing your phone back into your pockets. You glance back down at your open purse, blinking back your tears at the sight of the snacks — what a waste. 
< … >  
“Sato—“ 
You pause just outside of the classroom doors, resting your palms against the sliding door and peering curiously inside. Your eyebrows pinch together, eyes narrowing as you listen intently to the conversation shared between Gojo and Geto, both of whom seemed to be in the middle of — maybe — arguing with one another.  
“How much longer am I keeping this up for?” Gojo all but whines, leaning back in the seat that he was occupying, his feet propped up on the desk as he releases an annoyed huff.  
Geto chuckles, rubbing a hand over his face as he sits on the desk directly in front of Gojo, folding his legs over one another and smirking down at his best friend. Gojo sighs, blowing his bangs out of his face as he leans forward, his sunglasses slightly slipping down the bridge of his nose.  
“Why? Getting bored?” Geto raises an eyebrow at Gojo, lifting his arms to cross them firmly over his chest. Gojo rolls his eyes yet again, releasing a deepened sigh that only has Geto releasing the chuckle that he had been holding in.  
“I’m getting tired,” Gojo mocks a dramatic yawn, throwing his arms into the air and leaning back in his chair. Geto raises an eyebrow at the answer, curious now. 
“Tired?” 
“Exhausted. I don’t think you understand Suguru, she’s so desperately clingy and just — I can’t keep up with it,” Gojo explains in exasperation, rubbing his hands over his face and digging his fingers into the skin of this temples, rubbing them in slow circles.  
You feel your heart crack the more that Gojo speaks — listening quietly as he lists off all of the things that he seemingly hates about you. Your eyes burn with tears, and suddenly every ounce of love that you ever felt for Gojo seep out of you in waves. 
Had he felt that way about you the whole time? 
“Hey, you were the one that said yes. You could’ve dropped the bet,” Geto shrugs his shoulders, an action that earns him an annoyed kick from Gojo.  
“It’s 2,500 Yen. I’m not saying no to that,” Gojo reminds his friend, waving a finger in his face. Geto chuckles breathily, but pauses at an unfamiliar sound — a choked cry. His head whips around in an attempt to locate the source of the sound, feeling his heart drop to the deepest depths of his stomach at the sight of a retreating figure by the classroom's doors.  
Gojo follows Geto's wandering gaze, eyebrows knitting together in confusion at the sudden change in his friend's facial expression. "Shit." Is all that Geto says before he moves to the door, peering out of it just in time to see your figure turn the farthest corner of the hallway – then vanishing.  
Geto's eyes flicker to meet Gojo's as the latter leans his chin onto Geto's shoulder, staring at the spot that you had just disappeared from.  
"What happened?" Gojo inquires curiously, not failing to notice the way that Geto's spine stands as stiff as cardboard. The dark-haired male swallows the lump in his throat – they were both royally fucked.  
"We're fucked." 
< ... >  
"There, there, c'mon (Y/N), don't let this--" 
"He lied to me!" You rub your hands roughly over your tear-filled eyes, feeling your chest tighten as you look away from Utahime's concerned gaze. Her eyebrows furrow together in worry, eyes silently taking you in as you curl into yourself.  
She would be lying if she said that she wasn't downright pissed at what Gojo had done to you. After listening to your tearful ramble about what you heard, any and all respect that she had for her snowy-haired classmate went completely out of the window. 
Not that there was much respect there in the first place.  
"So how much of what he said did he actually mean?" Your voice is a broken cry, trembling in a way that has Utahime reaching out to comfortingly lace her fingers with your own.  
"I don't know," she whispers in response, not knowing how to help you. You turn your head away from her, sniffing and wiping your nose with the cloth of your sleeve. "I'm sorry (Y/N)." 
You shake your head, breath trembling as you grip at your knees. You screw your eyes shut, still seeing his affectionate smile behind your eyelids – you wish that you could forget it completely. You can still feel him too; you can feel his arms wrapped around you and his lips as they press affectionately to your cheek.  
You begin to wonder how much effort he actually put into your dates, you begin to wonder if his affectionate touches were genuine, you begin to wonder if it was him writing his text messages out or if it was someone else entirely. Did he ever care about you? 
"Hey." 
You glance up at Utahime, sniffling quietly as she reaches a hand out, laying her palm against your cheek and thumbing away the stray tears that roll down your cheeks. Her heart breaks at the sight of you – but her heart also yells angrily at the idea that Gojo would toy with you for a measly 2,500 Yen.  
She knew that he was an asshole – everyone did. But she didn't think he was that big of an asshole.  
"How about me and you go out? I'll even text Mei Mei and Shoko," Utahime offers, smiling again at you. You sniffle, cheeks reddened by your tears. Your eyes are puffy, lashes still wet with tears that take their sweet time in dripping down your face.  
"Can we stay in instead?"  
Utahime nods, smiling again at you. Her arms extend, wrapping around you and tugging you into her chest, squeezing affectionately at you. You sink into her embrace, face pressed comfortably into her shoulder.  
"Yeah, of course we can." 
< ... >  
"You're such a dick!" Utahime yells in a fit of rage, shoving her hands against Gojo's chest and glaring daggers at him as he stumbles backwards. He stares at her incredulously, eyebrows raised to a point that his forehead is wrinkled five times over.  
He hadn't expected this behavior from the usually calm and collected girl – but the way that she had stormed at him screaming her head off told him that he had royally screwed up.  
Over his shoulder, Geto watches knowingly. He knows that he'll likely be yelled at too, so in mental preparation, he remains completely silent, not wanting Utahime to turn her rage on him prematurely.  
"What is this about?" Gojo asks genuinely, his eyes narrowed in confusion as Utahime angrily takes a step back from him, restraining herself from actively strangling him.  
"What is this – so you just have no idea what you did to (Y/N)? God, you're dense!" Utahime all but screams, throwing her hands up in a fit of rage. 
Gojo narrows his eyes, then they widen – shit. How the fuck did you find out? 
"What do you mean?" He pauses for a moment, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. "What about (Y/N)?" 
"Oh, don't act so clueless! You know exactly what I'm talking about!" Utahime jabs a finger at Gojo's chest, her eyes burning with a rage that he had genuinely never seen in her before. She takes a brave step towards him – in return, he takes a step back.  
"I don't--" 
"Does 2,500 Yen sound familiar to you?" Utahime raises an eyebrow at him. He deadpans, swallowing the growing lump in his throat and feeling his heart sink.  
His silence tells her everything that she needs to know. She straightens, shooting a pointed glare to Geto as well – resulting in him looking anywhere but her direction, gaze flickering around wildly.  
She turns her attention back to Gojo, looking him up and down with an expression of nothing but pure disgust. He winces at the glint in her eyes – God, he had really screwed up.  
"You're both disgusting," Utahime spits venomously, then turning on her heel and promptly striding away from both males. Gojo turns, exchanging a worried yet remorseful glance in Geto's direction. His friend only swallows, they had both royally screwed up. 
< ... >  
Gojo suffered with the aftermath of you hearing his conversation – you avoided him like he had been infected with some kind of infectious disease. Any room he entered, you exited. Any time he called out your name with a polite wave, you turned your nose up and continued walking.  
In a way, you pretended that he simply didn't exist – that the person waving to you or trying to interact with you was nothing but a phantom, one that you ignored as if it was the only thing that you knew how to do.  
"(Y/N)! Hey, can we--" 
You stride past him, shoulder knocking against his own as you exit the classroom. He stands silently at its center, lowering his hand back to his side – he had wanted to reach out for you, but something inside of him told him to simply leave you be.  
And the day that he saw you happily hanging off of Nanami's arm was the day that he realized – loving someone from afar was the worst pain of all.  
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svndaysaweek · 1 month
Text
Overture (Prequel to Enlightenment) — {Feat. Karina}
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8.7k words
A/N: You don’t know how old this draft is… I still remember that anon who sent a few asks about this series, and I really hope that they read this! This one is the longest I’ve ever written. Might not be the best piece, but I’m so proud of myself that I did my best. Thank you @dnd-writes for editing and giving me awesome advices. Enjoy!
*Prequel to “Enlightenment”
******
“Doesn’t matter how the two met. It’s about how they’re together ‘til now.”
******
It’s the first day in your new high school. It’s already March but the breeze is yet to blow winter away, strongly acclaiming its presence with the icy wind you face as soon as you come out of the main building of your school to go to the cafeteria. You haven’t made any friends to have lunch with yet, so you change your mind to just head to the smoking spot–behind the auditorium which is already an alien building itself–and kill some time smoking. You turn your way to the smoking spot inside the huge tide of students heading to the cafeteria. Freezing air makes you pace up to the spot.
After passing a few corners where even the wind has been disturbed to travel through, you find a drum can with fire in it making a peaceful crackling sound.
And a girl standing right by it as if wanting to get burnt. “Are you the new one?” Her voice is sharp enough to make it sound wary, yet quite chirpy to end up hitting you as rather coquettish.
“I don’t… I don't really know you,” Your steps towards her contradict your words. “Me neither.” At the fire you light your own cigarette. Your eyes scan her body from the ground to meet hers doing the same to you. The yellow name tag catches your eyes. Her name is Yu Jimin, third grade. And where the name tag is what makes your attention gather up too–perfect size, matches her wavy figure and sassy face, calmly heaves when she’s inhaling in the smoke.
“My name’s not that hard to read,” That’s when you realize that Yu Jimin, this unusual girl, will be an attraction with challenges. It’s all in her grin, in her turbid eyes that never leave yours–to be honest, it’s yours that never leaves hers; they won’t let the leash on your eyes loosen, until she wants to.
You suck it in, and breathe out a mouthful of smoke in the cold air. You look at her again and she's been watching you thoroughly, from head to toe, examining your body, shape, façade and all things she finds nice to look at, regardless of you mirroring her like once isn’t really enough.
She’s got such a nice, sculpted body, hidden under the school uniform but even more premo like that; concave and convex, it just hugs her curves impeccably. Narrow waist and wide, tight hips causing the skirt to struggle not to be torn apart. What’s more is her face, at the height of your chest, looking almost unrealistic, inhumanly beautiful, especially with a shallow grin like right now.
You are automatically making steps toward Jimin and she’s not backing up. You turn your head right to let out the smoke and then return to the ongoing gaze between you two.
“Don’t I look cold?” Jimin steps backwards, from the fire and from you. It makes you just automatically look at her legs, so slick and teem with femininity. You keep following what she tells you to do, what the hormones tell you to do.
“What do you want me to say?” It should be delivered as a counterattack to the dominance Jimin has shown you, but it, unfortunately, ends up sounding as if you were really confused. And Jimin almost bursts into laughter which she manages to hold in.
“So, third grade? What class are you in?”
“Two. You?” You drop the used cigarette and step on it to put it out. “Four. I’ll drop by sometime, handsome.”
Then she leaves the spot just like that. You are so interested in the girl Yoo Jimin. Given that she’s pretty like that, smokes around, she’s nothing like the normal students, obviously. And you can tell Jimin also found you special. Yeah, you know people don’t get to see a man like you quite often. You also know you don’t get to see a girl so appetizing like her often. It’s third year in highschool. You’re no amateur to let a girl play you around, rather, you’ve learned to control those feisty, hungry girls, but ugh, to be honest you don’t know what’s going on. 
******
She never comes to see you until the end of school. Nor do you, because you thought you could wait–precisely, you thought you had to wait. You definitely want to take the upper hand in this new relationship so you just head home, yet with a bit of disappointment. But you don’t let anyone know. Maybe she’s just playing you out. That’s unacceptable for you. You calmly wait for the bus deep in thought. Maybe find someone else tomorrow. I don’t know.
“Hey, going somewhere?”
Fuck. It’s her. Jimin.
You think of complaining, but swallow it back and answer. “Home. You?” Jimin shrugs with nonchalance. “I don’t know. Your place, maybe? Do you live alone?” She lunges in suddenly, and you could just let her be as spunky as she can be. “I do. Why do you want to know that?” You throw a question, feigning calmness, and Jimin just smirks back.
“Don’t ask me.”
You’re on the bus. You let Jimin take the window side and sit next to her. You stuff your ears with some random songs and lock your eyes to the screen in your palm to leave the absorbing girl next to you out of your world even for a second.
“What made you move to my school?” Suddenly one of your earphones is between her fingers, your arm in hers to squish her breast slightly which feels so intentional. This bold little chick keeps surprising you in unforeseeable ways. Besides, you can read that she’s definitely testing you. Seems a little bit like an upside-down situation, for you to be the object, and oh, don’t you say you don’t find this rather fun.
“Well, there was an accident. You don’t need to know any further.” Her questions don’t seem to end, however. An eye roll might silence her—
“You can tell me. It’s alri-“
“You’d better shut the fuck up, Jimin.” Your fingers hold her chin up, facing you, merely a breath away as your noses tickle each other. And what gets you a moment later is her eyes, round and glowy, that could easily see through your brain, trying to suffocate you in the vivid yet gooey gaze. And there she plants her words straight into your brain; I’m a little impressed, but try harder. 
A sudden squeak of the brake informs you to get off. You step out of the bus and Jimin quietly follows. Then you start walking at a rather slow pace. The sound of another pair of footsteps is the only clue of her existence for you.
“You made me wait.” You break the silence as you near your house. You don’t bother turning back to be an audience for her commanding attitude, but her cockiness nonetheless makes it to your ears.
“Well, I might have just forgotten. My bad.” You unlock the door, let Jimin in and close it. Right after the thud you pin her arms over her head with one hand, eliciting a sharp yelp from her.
“You made me fucking wait, Jimin. You’ll have to pay for it.” Your face is just a few inches from hers again. Your straining voice is mixed with her breath, hot, and your burning gaze never leaves hers, to return the blow that she had on your mind; you don’t know me yet.
“You should feel lucky.”
“Why?”
“I’m interested in you.” Jimin’s words, however, don’t sound tense or weak despite your visible dominance. Rather, it’s an impudent confidence that defies the dynamic knotted between your eyes. Jimin herself visualizes it with an even wider smile, dense with deliberate harm to your ego.
“Mmm…!” You dive into Jimin’s lips while your other hand suddenly wraps around her neck hard. Keeping the chokehold still, your hand once holding her wrists tears her school shirt open, letting the buttons randomly fly to the floor. With her hands free, they dangle on your arms. Her demure hand tries to push you back from her neck, but her tongue is flapping inside your mouth, already allured by the intenseness. Your other hand hesitates about before swiftly undoing her bra and Jimin drops it on the floor. You squeeze the godly pair of flesh and soon pull back from the kiss.
“Shit, you like it rough, huh?” Jimin giggles, with a killing lip bite, and discards her buttonless shirt. There you feel something kick your heart, to see a girl enjoying your selfishness and harshness for the first time. A thought that this girl might be the one for you passes through your mind like a hit-and-run truck.
You turn yourselves around and make Jimin walk backwards to your bedroom with your guide. Jimin doesn't wait to unbutton your shirt on your way, and the corners of her lips soon get pulled down by the lust exponentially charging up. You try to look calm but you’re no different–can’t help it in front of this amazing figure of Jimin, skin-to-skin just for you.
Entering the bedroom you push Jimin onto the bed. Her under lip experiences another intense bite as you lay her down and climb over her body, face to face just like a few minutes ago. With one hand supporting your weight, you take the other to her irresistible breasts and fondle them. Jimin hooks her arms and magnetizes your lips to hers for a delirious lip lock once again. Your hand slides down her torso to the button of her uniform skirt and undoes it then takes it off of her fatal legs and throws it to the floor.
“Next time you won’t wear these, okay?” It’s a demand but also a command, with your fingers on the wet spot on her panties. Her hands find themselves wandering on your toned chest, much in admiration. She nods quickly and unbuckles your pants.
“Needy,” Her hastiness makes you grin, and your words only make Jimin’s excitement grow.
“Yes. I am.” This is what makes you wanna accept the challenge; she’s talking things like that all too fresh, like you have to feel thankful for it. You take your pants off with your underwear to be fully naked. You help Jimin get rid of the annoying cloth being dampened by her pussy off her legs and throw it to the pile of clothes on the floor. With the anticipation for the next step Jimin’s breath paces up, running thin like her patience.
“You’re fucking big…” Jimin marvels at the way your cock tickles her belly button and her tummy. You slap her bare stomach a few times with your cock, spit on it and spread the slickness across with slow strokes.
“I said you’ll have to pay for it, Jimin,” You rub your cock on her wetness, gaining more lubrication, and slap your cock on her folds to see her reaction.
“Ah, please make me…Make me-OH FUCK…!” You push into the hilt with a swift thrust. The tightness draws a groan straight from your throat, and your right hand rises to her neck and chokes her hard again.
“You tell me who’s lucky. You think it’s still me?” Straight to the point that has been bothering you ever since it was spoken. You love to make things clear—dirty—who’s the one to stand and who’s the one to kneel. And if she ever intended to get under your skin, well, she pushed the wrong button.
Jimin’s eyes slam shut, unlike her agape mouth through which you can see her tongue has lost its way, dragged here and there by the hand of her senses, overthrown by what you’re doing. You keep thrusting in and out at such a pace, every time making sure your balls hit her ass, filling her tight hole up ecstatically with no vacancy.
“Hah, god…! It’s me, I’m the lucky one! I’m so fucking lucky to have your big cock inside me!”
“Good. See, your act doesn’t last a day.”
Her lips tremble, as if about to cry, as if all the fucking around was just a pretense and she actually has to be under you. She bites the lower one but can’t hold the shiver down. 
You move your hand from Jimin’s neck to her face, grabbing her cheeks in one grip. You bring her face close to yours, both shaking to the orgasmic rhythm but never losing eye contact. Then you slap her cheeks, out of nowhere, just enough for the sound to be pleasurable but not too painful. Jimin starts to drool when you do that several times more, with loud, long moans gradually turning into screams.
“Oh, fuck, yes…! FUCK YES…!” Done with the hitting, you push in your fingers to Jimin’s unsilent mouth to get a better hold of her body. A teardrop leaves her glossy eyes and rolls down to where her ear is. A perfect mixture of pain and pleasure, both of which makes you two forget about tomorrow.
“I’m cumming, Jesus! I-I… Fucking cummi-“ Jimin’s back viciously arches so upward that you almost slip out. Her arms don’t seem to settle for a while before they dig into your back to work as anchors, her body vulnerable in the midst of a destructive swirl of pleasure. But that’s none of your concern as you make the haze in her head threaten her consciousness.
“Fuck, you’re perfect.” You wait for Jimin to come down but that’s so silly of you to do so; your ravageous ramming cock never lets her. All of a sudden you pull out, causing Jimin to shake immensely, and flip her on all fours. Her sex is glistening and the other hole is too, both of them slick with her juices and constricting irregularly.
When Jimin feels your cock rub on her pussy she collapses onto the mattress, only her ass up and her face down, exhausted on the bed, faced to the right. But whenever your cock teases her other hole Jimin shudders, toes curl and her fists try to tear your sheets at the sensation of her asshole getting stimulated.
“Agh, fuck…” You don’t warn Jimin when you insert the head of your cock inside her tight ass. This time even you can’t handle the pleasure of its tremendous tightness as you shut your eyes and groan loudly.
“Holy fuck, Jimin, this is so tight,” You tell her when you’re halfway in. Her body stays still, but her hands ball up and her toes curl until they all become pale. Every inch deeper inside her ass is the moment for you to admire the transcendental tightness you’ve never experienced from those other girls you have been through. Maybe you’re lucky too, to have found this perfect body with nothing to lament on.
“Oh, please, that’s deep! Fuck my ass deep just like-oh my fucking god!” Your reaction is quick—it’s more of a reflection though—doing more than what Jimin asked even before she finishes her words, beginning the mindless assfuck with such a carefree pace. You bring her powerless head up with your hand wrapped around her neck, tight, choking her again. The tighter you grip, the tighter her ass gets. You catch a glimpse of the crooked corner of her lips, which only fuels your inner engines to work even harder.
It’s just your thing; when you see a smile, you have to break it. You destroy it, and you sincerely cherish it when it’s gone.
As you reach your maximum speed Jimin’s distorted smile subsides and an even more euphoric look spreads. Mouth open wide, drooling down her chin and onto your hand on her throat, eyes open but white. As if she muted herself, Jimin doesn’t even breathe—not only because of your grip, but also the orgasm building up as fast as how you ram her ass. You grin at the sight of Jimin drowning in the sensations her own nerves convey; you create. It kills you how small her body is, when you can witness a simple—yet ruthless—piston to her crotch can dye her whole skin red, travel electrically to everywhere in no time, shrinking every minimal muscle. You release her, she falls down limp on the bed and screams at the anal orgasm hitting her, threatening her consciousness.
“Ahh! Fuck, fuck…!” You’re nowhere far from your own end, either. Your breath shallows down at the crazy tightness of Jimin’s orgasming ass. 
“Jimin, I’m cumming…!” You do. You reach as deep inside her anal cavern as you can and unload your cum, mind blowing pleasure coursing through every corner of your body. You shoot, and shoot, and shoot. Jimin clenches her hole for your cum to be deposited inside her with a lazy hum, in harmony with your groan seeping out of your gritted teeth.
It takes a few minutes for your breaths to find the normal speed. “No one’s fucked my ass this amazing,”
It surely was enough to bring amazement, undoubtedly the best you’ve had so far. You sit up and rearrange her hair for her.
“Did I pay for it?“ Jimin’s already got that bright smile back, and after such an extreme sex your barriers collapse in front of her, as you smile back at her.
“Very much.”
“Can you get my phone? It’s in my skirt.” You head to the pile of discarded clothes and do it for Jimin, who’s sitting on the bed with her head resting on the headboard. You toss it on the bed.
Jimin looks into her phone right away, scrolls down mindlessly and looks at you, who’s naked and standing next to the bed.
“Take a shower first, baby.”
Baby, she said.
Your eyes dart to hers immediately. Your face stays placid but you know Jimin knows you’re not at all used to it. You never really allow any strings attached with the ones you fuck; it’s a rather body-to-body entanglement than something emotional. But you’re surprised at how that word fits comfortably between you two. There’s something different. You look back at Jimin but her attention is taken by her phone already, again like a hit-and-run truck, but not completely as you can see her smirk the way you love. So you just enter the bathroom. 
In the shower you review the past 30 minutes—you had sex with the girl Yoo Jimin: nothing special. But not just that; Jimin has by far the best body of all the other girls you’ve experienced. You can tell you really enjoyed it today. You can tell she’s worthy of continuing the relationship. You like the way Jimin turns from a bubbly, sassy girl in school to a begging, screaming mess in bed under you. And the way she calls you baby—it dulls all your edges like a cup of boiling water would do to an ice cube. Just like the hot water pouring on your head.
You come out of the shower and see Jimin smoking on your bed, sitting on the edge with her legs crossed, elbow on her thigh, still aesthetically naked. She looks gorgeous like that. You walk to her, take the cigarette from her hand to your mouth. Then push her down on the bed, breathe the smoke in deep and throw the shortened cigarette away to the bin next to bed, breathe out, and share a smoky kiss.
A few moments later your rod pokes at her belly and Jimin parts away with a giggle.
“Fuck, I really have to clean my body.” You bring her off the bed with you. “Shut up and get down here,” With a smirk she does, and as soon as she adjusts her legs and position you shove your cock in her mouth. A gag earned.
But after that Jimin takes your big cock pretty well, without gagging or looking uncomfortable, even when her nose crashes on your crotch; you’ve found yourself a perfect girl, indeed.
“Nice.” Her teary eyes never leave yours throughout the session as you pace up for a brief finish. Adjusting to the speed of your cock moving entirely in and out, Jimin’s hands go up to the back of your thighs for firmer grip.
Jimin’s drool tickles down your balls and forms a small puddle on the floor. With the filthiest slurping sound Jimin bobs her head at the beat of your cock sliding through. Whenever her delicate tongue presses onto the underside of your cock you throb inside her mouth, making her head slightly move simultaneously.
Jimin’s tears meet the drool on her chin, and with a sound of her voice from her throat Jimin taps your thighs for you to pull out. You take your cock out of her mouth and slap it on her fucked face a few times, painting her face with her own saliva, to her liking.
“Finish it.”
Put the shower aside, and you shower Jimin with your lust deep into her throat. You feel your legs not far from giving in, but thankfully your cock is just the same, due to what Jimin is doing under you.
“Jimin, I’m-I’m close.”
Jimin starts to fondle your balls and that certainly helps you cross the line. In no time you fill her throat up white, and the room with your satisfied groan.
You look straight into Jimin’s eyes when you cum, and it’s astonishingly reciprocated when she gulps down your load quickly, professionally. As soon as you are done pouring into Jimin she stands up, showing you her clean tongue with a tilt of her head, and heads to the bathroom. You, left alone, giggle quietly and sprawl on the bed after putting on underwear. 
******
“Text me at lunch break. You know where to meet me.” You just nod at Jimin, who’s in one of your T-shirts that is just a little bit big for her; loss of all the buttons on her uniform comes at a cost. An inner beam blooms under your face when you find her just too perfect in that outfit of school skirt with your T-shirt tucked under it. Those unhidden bra lines count as one of many reasons for you to stare at her, take her in your arms right now and-
“Not now, perv.” Her smirk lets yours surface up to reciprocate hers. You stand up from the bed, approach her and walk her backwards to the wall. Jimin has been playful and relaxed with you and you like it. But when you—just like right now—detect submission in her eyes: you love it. You don’t stop your hand from rising up for her neck and have a good grip around it. You don’t stop the other from being pulled away to her gracious tits and squeezing them.
“Not now?” And there are those big eyes begging for you to go further, that bitten lower lip asking for any contact, as if the one who just quipped ‘not now’ choked out. Always hits you differently when she just switches from a brat to a subby mess out of control.
Contradiction is the most normal of things when you have a tight grip over Jimin. Her reddening face gradually forms a thin smirk when your lips close in to hers. Her eyes close, lips part for a mind-numbing kiss—
“Not now.” You make a sudden pull back and release Jimin from your grip. She stumbles and almost collapses on the floor so you hold her in your arms. For the same purpose and then some, her arms rest on your shoulders and pull you in, only to be denied by your hand pushing her chest off of you, leaving Jimin just keeping a hungry gaze at your lips and whimpering “Please.”
You finish tying the necktie, bring your thumb up to her lips. As it sweeps over them Jimin lets her tongue coat your thumb with her saliva which could’ve blended perfectly with yours.
“To the spot at lunch break, Jimin. And ah,” You stand down and pull her panties down in one sway and she helps herself out of them by lifting her legs respectively. You toss it on the bed and rise up again, for your collarbone to match her height, for her to look up at you again.
“You don’t wear the same panties for two days straight, do you?” Jimin just nods quickly and tries to crush her lips on yours yet again. Seems like she wouldn’t care even if you made her go to school all nude, if she could just mix her tongue with yours right now. Her efforts to make you kiss her is visible to you; eyes so seductive yet not able to take themselves off of their foremost target, lips slightly open for her tongue to peek outside. Seeing that you just step back and prepare to leave for school with an unseen smirk.
“Let’s go.”
******
As anticipated, needy and untidy Yoo Jimin sends you a dozen pictures of her bare crotch under her skirt, saying ‘Want your fingers inside’, ‘Can’t wait for the lunch break.’ Those are to be left on read.
Morning classes fly by as the bell rings to announce the lunch break. The class rushes out for lunch, has a race among them with some of them even running like they have something to win. And amongst that crowd you head to the spot, to Yoo Jimin.
She’s there already waiting for you when you turn the last corner. Legs crossed, back on the brick wall and a half-spent cigarette between her lips, looking so delinquent there with that insanely short skirt and in the shirt you gave. She notices you, has a reet smile on her and throws the cigarette on the ground, and watches you approach her standing still. No immaterial words or acts are needed when you can just kiss those lips like they’re yours. The remnant of the cigarette a fume that makes you dive deeper into this trance her tongue and yours are building, you spontaneously get rid of her skirt and are met with the wet skin under it.
Your fingers taste her crotch, slowly rubbing around and poised for any further indulgence. Her hands are, on the other hand, hectic with your buttons and when they’re done they swiftly go down to your belt. Your pants drop to your ankles in no time with your underwear, and with your erect cock emancipated, Jimin detaches from the kiss and spits on your cock and spreads it.
It all happens so fast that you are still enraptured by the kiss and her tits in your palms, leaving so many treats unfelt to your body. The next second you are inside her, making it even headier for you to follow up.
“Fuck, I needed this.” Jimin grits. With no clue of downshifting she takes the shirt off, her bra to follow suit, and hooks her arms around your neck to stand the frantic sex she wants from you. And that happens right away, as your instinct drops the hammer for you to automatically thrust into her even before you find yourself moaning at the sensation of her inside.
You keep your eyes closed while wrecking her pussy despite the eye candy that is Yoo Jimin during sex, and suddenly you notice her teeth on your shoulder. It’s a pain that can make you grin, that can make you savor the feeling, even it gets even stronger, because now you know that when she bites, she cums. Her legs give in, and you know it by the weight of her arms around your neck. Her walls clench harshly and there’s a stream of her juice down your legs when she cums. Yoo Jimin is so tactile, and when she cums her whole body does, for yours to recognize, you don’t even have to hearken to know it. The auditory input hits your brain the last, the pearly, shaky yelp of the orgasming needy girl adds up to all the stimuli you are taking.
When she comes down you slow down, lazily reaching her cervix as she hums at it every time.
“Kiss me, baby.” You do. It’s saccharine to your tongue. Her tongue distraughtly moves around inside your mouth, some of the drool leaking onto her tits to make it even more impeccable. The gustation mesmerizes you into a rabid sex, this time for yourself to get off. No subduing, only upshifts lead the way as you turn her around, put it back in and lavish thrusts into her sex.
“Shit. Jimin, you’re so fucking perfect.” You’re not saying this again because she might not have heard it; you are repeating it like a low-functioning machine because you’re afraid you haven’t said it enough. And she can condone it—of course she can, it’s a compliment anyway—because she knows it already, because the feeling’s mutual. You say it several more times on the back of her neck, almost making it a tattoo, carving it in intaglio. Still deranged, Jimin is just screaming with her back arching to the sky and carotically facing the brick wall with her left cheek. The right side of her face is rosed up, and her eye has a glimpse of you, your wry face and the sweat-coated torso and shuts and she cums just like that. 
Her breaths are shallow, irregular, a gusty fluid squelches out of her pussy and the scene of her orgasm is intimidating your endurance, easily sending you to an orgasmic stupor and making you spurt out inside her with a gritted groan. 
“Jimin, I… God, fuck…!” To your overstimulated cock Jimin has her shrewd tongue on it, sealed with her lips. Makes your legs wobble, unmercifully agitating your mind with frenzy, but just until she clears your shaft up clean from the tabloid juices all over it.
“I loved it. Maybe we should make it daily.” Jimin rises up, with her skirt and your shirt in her hands and still breathing somewhat heavily. And the desecrated smile on her face is the coercion for you to wear one too, a copacetic one. Shirt on, a smoking cigarette between your fingers, you insinuate to her.
“Your panties are still on my bed, you know.” And she’s shrewd with it—has been from the very beginning—and purrs. “Mhmm, I’m going to go fetch it after school with you.”
Of course, is what your nods that follows says, and there’s my girl, says your zest-filled grin, looking at her back that walks out of the corner. It’s always that intrinsic sass you could simply, so simply kill for. Maybe a challenge for you, maybe a finesse for you to be benumbly trapped into. It’s your choice, and from some point on the latter looks dazzling to you; maybe you’re a person who just dyes so well, to a derogated girl who seemed to have taken everything you’ve given but turns out she just put you in the phantasma of her own stardust without you realizing it—you’ve lost it in her, somehow. And that’s bizarre: and you love it.
******
You’re standing at the bus stop, hands in your pocket and looking around to find your girl. When you do, you’re so surprised at how Jimin so stands out among all the crowd while doing nothing but just walk. Even from miles out you’re sure you’ll spot her in a second. The belle of the crowd, wherever she is. She’s not the tallest but still piques herself on her to-die-for aura like she blurs everyone out. As if she sensed the scrutiny, Jimin looks up from her phone, looks around and soon finds you looking at her. You hate to be seen so infatuated like this but you can’t help it, as your eyes meet hers and your face brightens up, half from seeing her and half at yourself caught like that.
“That happy to see me?” You don’t answer, just bring your hands to her crotch and check there’s no underwear blocking your way. A flick over her uncovered pussy earns you a shocked look.
“This is not your bedroom!” Jimin shouts in whisper, but not with caution, but an intrigued grin with eyes darting around the crowd waiting for the bus.
“Are you telling me to stop?” You take your fingers to her mouth, her tongue welcoming the taste of horniness coated all over your fingers. “I’m telling you not to stop.”
So your hand returns to her pussy. You’re rubbing, tapping on and hooking your fingers in, Jimin bites on her own fingers not to relinquish her scream. You hold her trembling body as steady as possible but you know that it’ll be absolutely normal if the people around you realize that you two are having a little fun explicitly in public. Everyone’s looking at you and Jimin in front of you, facing the same way as you and receiving that dirty fingering amongst so many audiences.
In a few minutes the bus is here, to show you only one vacant seat left. You take the seat and Jimin sits on your lap, facing backwards and hugging your neck. You resume the unholy yet entertaining fingering to the pretty moaning girl on your lap.
And you return to who you really are: you’re a gentleman yourself, with etiquette, with common decency, to pull Jimin’s head down on your shoulder to muffle her nasty sound on it. You know even the driver is looking at you through the mirror, but that’s because of her, not you; again, you’re making no noise, and Jimin in your embrace is the culprit of all the squeaky, watery, moaning noise, not you. 
“Quiet, Jimin.” Now her teeth dig into your skin, synchronizing with your fingers indulging into her wet, tight hole. You know what you’re doing won’t shut her up. You’re just saying it, a formality. Inside your mind you want her to moan loudly, at the same time want to see her struggle keeping it quiet. So you yank her hair back to watch her distorted face, observe every tiny wriggle of her expression.
“Ah…!” Look into her eyes as if wanting to pierce through them. Jimin looks at you too, flooding with lust, drowning in her own sensations of sex and embarrassment of being exposed in such a public situation. “I’m almost there.” It’s a plain text but she’s begging there. She says she’s almost there but she’s already there, as it seems.
“Yeah, we’re almost there.” A bump on the road makes your fingers hit her spot, makes her back arc, makes her almost, almost lose it right there. You pull out your fingers from her hot cavern to the relatively cool air of the bus. Her liquid feels fresh out in the air but that feeling is soon lost, by her tongue wrapping them up and sucking it clean—suckling it dirty.
The bus stops right then for only you and Jimin to get off. It’s much quieter than inside the bus, partially due to you not fingerfucking her anymore. In no time you’re at the door of your house, unlock it, swing open and it slams shut. Simultaneously Jimin hops on you and dive into your mouth with hers. You stumble through to your bedroom, toss her on the bed, swiftly undo your belt and pants with your boxers, let your already hard dick spring out but don't let it feel the air as it vanishes into Jimin’s waiting pussy right away.
No one speaks a word. No one can, to be fair. You two are merely inches away from dying, too impatient to wait another second. And there you let Jimin approach death a bit closer by holding her neck around, a perfect necklace for her, and straining your hand. Jimin’s mouth is open, difficulty in breathing so visible, face reddening but there’s still her hunger in it; she grins. Her smile is so cruel, violent, so evil yet joyful, as if she’s the victimizer and you’re the victim.
“Please, baby… Kill me. Fucking choke me to death, please, choke me and kill me-fuck!” You make her scream when you slap her tits, as if you were angry at her, but you’re the opposite—you love her so much that you just want to abuse her, to her liking, just like right now. All her sensations seem to evaporate as her eyes roll back and her hands drop to her sides spiritlessly: or, airlessly. You let her go, not wanting to actually kill her.
With a giant inhale Jimin returns from the border of unconsciousness. Her hands travel from her own tits, your hands, and soon back to the sheets, still wandering in need for anything to release the tension. So you pin down her wrists and pace up your thrusts.
“Fuck, Jimin. Don’t tempt me. You make me really want to fuck you dead.” You’re saying it right on her face, which enables her to feel that you mean it. There she tries to kiss your lips, but you pull back with agility, instead covering her mouth and nose with your palm, again suffocating her to your liking, to your loving, to your abnormal, psychopathic obsession.
“I want to see you struggle for life. I want to see you beg for life. You’ll look so perfect like that.” Jimin screams into your hand, covers it with her saliva and tears. You close in with your other hand groping her tit and your cock hitting everywhere inside her squeezing cunt. Jimin’s eyes widen as her orgasm fades in, muffling “I’m cumming!” Several times on your palm before peaking like never before. Her orgasm never gives her the time to even shut her eyes as they roll into her head. Her scream penetrates your hand over her mouth as it departs on your ears so deliciously.
That’s what psychopaths do, isn’t it? To experience the catharsis washing over your spine and get off with how a person screams, all helpless, with tears, shallow breaths as if soon going to die, or at least pass out. Maybe it’s that she’s making it clear about who you are. Would be a pleasure to embrace it.
And it’s your turn now. You pull out, escaping Jimin’s spent pussy with quite an amount of her squirt, leaving her all trembling and arching. There’s a layer of sweat all over her body and it makes it look like a scene from any pornography. Jimin doesn’t move a bit-only her chest is heavily healing up and down, even after you flip her upside down.
You tease her asshole with your middle finger and when she senses it enter she helps you by spreading her cheeks for deeper insertion. No resistance in and out of her ass. Every curl inside her ass makes Jimin squeeze her own cheeks as a response with a powerless moan. “Mmm, fuck me please… I’m not done yet.” Of course. You grin and prepare your cock for the second entrance as you pull Jimin up on all fours. Her arms give up when you rub your glistening cock on her pussy lips. And her reason gives up when you penetrate her rear hole.
“Ahh-fuck yes!”
“Holy fuck. This is so tight.” Her tightness erases your patience to savor it slowly. You start ruining her ass with the intention of actually destroying it. Jimin frowns, loud moan seeping through the bitten lip, hands curling into fists but arms all powerless on her sides.
“It’s so good, it’s so fucking good…! Don’t stop it baby. Make me cum like a fucking whore…!” Her voice can’t even get louder when her words just melt on the mattress just like her. Her words turn to nothings, eyes squeeze shut, concentrating all her senses to where she’s getting fucked. You feel your eyelids become heavier every single thrust, but the visual pleasure is just too good to give up watching it-her ass up for you to fuck it senseless, narrow waist contrasting her wide hips so aesthetically. The cherry on top is the expressions on her gorgeous face which you can’t quite read. Just like when all colors mixed makes pitch-black, her facial wrinkles and twitches are the perfect mixture of all pleasure, ecstasy that you can’t tell what she’s feeling at this moment.
“Nngh!” Actually, you can. Jimin is orgasming so hard, clear—dirty—liquid pumping out of her empty pussy to flood the mattress. Her ass squeezes your cock too hard for you to move in and out as fast as before without blasting every drop in her climaxing ass hole.
So you park it deep in her contracting hole, stay there, and shut Jimin’s moaning mouth with yours. She doesn’t care—or she doesn't acknowledge—and keeps screaming for her life even after her peak has washed over. A few dozen seconds pass, she calms down to at least breathe regularly when you stand your torso up to resume the session.
“You… You have to cum…” As if she even cares for you instead of her own pleasure. You know she just wants more overwhelming orgasm only you can deliver, and you are no different. There’s something about this body, these tits, the voice, this face, this pussy, this ass; there really is something about Yoo Jimin. Without your knowledge you are humping her like a villain, mad, but with a grin that’s so dangerous that Jimin mirrors. Your hand already made itself home around her neck, a red mark of it pressing hard inevitable, tears rolling down along her side face.
“I’m going to fill you up, Jimin.” And with a sharp inhale you begin wrecking her inside. A gut-rearranging pounding is what her perfect ass deserves and she can’t even open her eyes properly-either one stays closed against her will, rolling up to see that there’s nothing inside her head.
“Fuck! Please, please, please, please… Gah, I’m- Again…!” How impatient. There’s not even a point for you to call a flaw. Immoral, impatient, vulgar, dirty… She’s all too perfect. And you’re sure that’s why you cum so hard, like never before.
A nasty pair of voices fill each other’s brain as you two cum. You lower your body, forehead on hers and eyes on hers, looking through those teary orbs as you feel yourself bursting out gregariously. No words but loud pants bridge your sensations to each other, and until the last spurt you don’t even blink in order to see Jimin go through her own orgasm.
That’s it; it’s been your undesirable sadistic desire that kept you on fire, and when you have saturated it it flips out of your head, making it empty—there hasn’t been anything other than that. When you’re done completely you let Jimin go from your glare, sit on the edge next to her gasping body. Your urge is swept off so cleanly, and you can see how dirty it was by the mess on your bed.
“Are you alright?” You ask, but looking up at the ceiling, not Jimin. You don’t turn your head but can already sense her looking at you. “You’re just so perfect.” Selfishly she doesn’t answer. And you hear the smirk in her words. You make one on your face too, hearing that, stand up, face her and find Jimin overloading your vision with how she gorgeously lies down there, making even all the nasty things complement her perfection.
“I’ll shower. Just don’t fall asleep on the bed. It’s dirty.” You tell Jimin, all helpless and powerless on the bed and panting like she just had the best sex in her life. The lustful girl who was begging for you to kill her is nowhere to be found; instead there’s a weak, short of breath, vulnerable and lithe angelic devil with your cum gushing out of her ass. As if a few more touches and she’d actually evaporate.
In the shower you barely feel the water on your body, so distracted by your own thoughts—your own thoughts but in the grabs of Yu Jimin. The exact same as yesterday, you are showering yourself with your shocked, strange feelings in the shower after sex that simply blew your mind.
It's just that she's too good. Too good to call it a hook-up, too good to make it only an occasional sex. The way she craves your cock, the way she begs for your violence, the way she’s so desperate for extreme orgasms under your hold. It’s the first time for you to smile just by thinking of a girl, especially when you’re such a harsh and rough type of a person even you’d admit. She’d let you hit her. She’d let you choke her, let you fuck her, destroy her—let you love her.
Then the door opens, a small, pale figure of female comes in, walks slowly through the mist of the hot water. Jimin stops in front of you, legs barely holding there, face buried on your chest and her arms locked around your neck to support her lithe body but they barely do. You move a little backward to let her more of the hot water.
As if all the water got into your veins, you feel your heart burn. Just look at her—legs all wobbly, barely standing, too exhausted to even look up at you, her hands at the back of your neck irregularly stroking the back of your head as if signaling she’s at least perceiving things properly. You put a hand on her back and spread the water on it, and that’s when she lifts her head and meets your eyes. 
Weak and lethargic like a candlelight in front of a tsunami, Jimin is barely standing there with low moans whenever her legs wobble and give up. Her arms tighten around your neck as one of yours hug her back so that she doesn’t collapse. Her face is right beneath yours, tilted up to face yours. Those eyes can’t avoid looking at your lips, which is just what you’re doing to her unashamedly.
Your hand climbs up to the back of her head. Regardless of that you and Jimin are exchanging such a strong yet soft, intense yet loving eyelock. It is an atypically genial moment and if you look back at this moment you might throttle yourself. She should know it by now, from the visible, audible changes on you. 
(Maybe you were afraid. Or beyond that. Love was what your fears were afraid of. Doesn’t quite make sense to say that you have fears, but anyways, you didn’t want, nor expect a couple nights to escalate to an actual romance.)
Minutes pass, and pass, and—and pause, when you pull her a bit into your arms and make a soundless, yet seismic kiss. Lips lock. Two pairs of lips open and a pair of tongues make contact, hug each other just like you two. Her hands snake into your hair, your head in her hands and deeper into the kiss. You two have even forgotten to breathe as the liplock continues for what feels like a lifetime, to complete the kiss of your life. When you try to pull back Jimin lunges a bit forward not to break the kiss, and you let your system suffocate a few dozen seconds more. 
“You’re so beautiful, Yu Jimin.” You finally tell her this. Not the literal confession of love but she gets it with the bewitching smile she always wears like nothing. Never been in love, you feel like you’re sent back to childhood, pure and intact, but that feeling is shattered into pieces when her hand finds your hardened cock poking at her belly.“Is that why you’re so hard, baby?” This time, the word ‘baby’ sounds so right with a lip bite of your lover and with a lust-filled grin on you. Her thumb slides on the underside of the tip, almost making you stumble back.
“Yes. Just like you’re always horny because of me.”  With a smirk you turn her around, bend her over so that her hands are on the wall, and put your cock in in one stroke. Jimin helplessly loses all the strength in her legs and falls but you're prudential enough not to let her. It's to the point where she's just hanging from your arms when you kindle the movement. Her skin looks even more satin with the water so you collar her and go on. You can't stop when the biggest impetus is jonesing for it. No choice but to harden the grip on her throat.
Jimin is flaccid on the wall, fingers fumbling on and desperately digging themselves on it with her head facing down. You are never going to unbind her until she falls into a stupor. “Baby I… I fucking love it so deep…! Use me just like that…” She can't let it out loud and soon loses all voice, raises her head, brings yours right beside hers and kisses you. And a feeling that this is the requital for your disclosure makes it compulsory to reciprocate it poignantly. Her hand guides one of yours to her tits, pushes it hard on it to make you squeeze them and soon the convulsions agitate through her body. Her orgasmic screams reverberate through your throat, which is also moaning out of the pleasure congesting your mind. 
When the kiss breaks her yelps stifle the smacking and squelching. You have no idea if it’s your heartiness or just overstimulation from before the shower, but her voice sounds so giddy she might just hit the floor all limp. The burgeoning pleasure conglomerates into a derogated vertigo, the unbearable sensations stack up in your spines and Jimin’s wringing walls really doesn’t help you push it down. Her eyes tell you—because her mouth can’t right now—she’s only a couple thrusts away from coming undone, tantamount to what’s threatening to blow your mind, break down your nerves.
“I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m fucking coming…!” A tautology that is so understandable. You help her, add to the pleasure by choking her. Her moans permeate to your hand through her throat and the foul secretion of her orgasm flows down her legs with the water pelting down on your bodies. Jimin fumbles on the wall with her fingers, too herring-gutted to digest the deray.
“Jimin. Yu Jimin. I’m coming too-fuck…!” When Jimin hears her name she hums, and when she feels the warmth coat her walls she buckles, arches her back to beckon your lips and jockeys her tongue between them. In less than a minute however she pulls back, due to lack of air, because of your chokehold, and pants in your face, with a pejorative smile, but no sign of mannerism—you all know, that smile that follows after an exquisite sex—her sheer feelings carved in it, and you willingly mirror it as a beck of mutuality.
******
A rather huge thing is settled. Sitting on the edge of the bed together, with a cigarette between your fingers for each, you recount your history: the reason you moved, your personality, your sex life being like this. All of them, however, converge to her, Yu Jimin, weirdly enough for you who just can’t concede any feelings involved, which sounds like a monolithic psychopath which actually might be who you are.
Well, a little bit of romance couldn’t kill, could it? You think, lying next to Jimin and slowly closing your eyes to fall-
“You haven’t said it yet.”
“Say what?”
“You only said I’m beautiful.”
“And?”
“I know there’s something more. You know there’s something more.”
There you fail to hold out the chuckle.
“I don’t know what you’re-“
“It’s okay, baby. You don’t have to be shy about it,”
Jimin mischievously giggles. You know you can’t just laugh it off, and you won’t. That intricate feeling that tickles, but is not transient.
With a somnolent voice, you placidly say, like a tagline of a tragedy—or a comedy.
“Love you, Jimin.”
Her grin infiltrates her words hearing it.
“That’s it, my boy. Love you too.”
******
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earthtooz · 10 months
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x : AVOIDANCE :*+゚
in which: falling for blade was not on your agenda, so naturally you decide to distance yourself. however, the last thing you'd predicted was blade being upset with the sudden space.
warnings: 2.3k wc, FLUFF, ooc!blade probably bc i'm still trying to figure it out, kafka meddles with the two of you, gn!stellaron hunter!reader who has a past lol, NOT PROOFREAD, idiots in love bc i love that trope, bad writing
a/n: thank you to the anon who gave me this idea :D much appreciated, i had a lot of fun with this one when my angstier fics were draining me af. i hope you enjoy, apologies if it's a little low quality, but it's my child &lt;3
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when you first joined the team of stellaron hunters, you didn’t expect to get much out of it, especially since the team looked so cold, calculating, mischievous, and unforgiving, greeting you with vicious smiles and muddy eyes. preemptively, you assumed the most you would receive is acquaintanceship.
however, time has proven you wrong, because on the contrary, you have found comfort, friendship, and stability in the form of this mismatched group.
you never expected to find love either.
but you did, and it might be the worst decision your heart has ever made.
“y/n, there you are. kafka and i are thinking about going out to lunch. want to join?” silver wolf’s voice interrupts your train of thought, disrupting your peace in your private spot amongst the gardens.
“oh, hi silver wolf,” you murmur, shutting your book after shoving in a bookmark. “who else is going?”
“kafka asked blade and he agreed.”
the genius hacker doesn’t notice the way you tense upon hearing a certain swordman’s name. instead, you play it cool by opening up your book again, scanning the pages in hopes of ignoring the racing of your heart.
“i think i’ll pass on this one. thank you though,” you mutter.
“really?” the silver-haired asks, popping her gum before shrugging. “whatever you say. i’m off!”
“bye!”
hearing her footsteps fade, you slump in your seat, your memories with blade hauntingly eminent in your mind. you don’t recall when you fell for him, or why exactly, all you have in your recollection is a series of moments that you look back fondly upon with a full heart, love slowly seeping in to you and causing your affections to grow to the size that they reside at now.
when you had realised, the love had already grown too big to deflate, and dejection struck moments after; a big bang of butterflies in your stomach that all disintegrated straight after.
how brutal- perhaps this was an indication that blade was rubbing off on you too much, and you need to cleanse yourself of his influence.
love, although fickle, was not something that you avidly rejected. despite having lived like a hunted deer, your experiences have been fleeting, building your delicate heart for a life of meeting, falling, then leaving when you least wanted to, needing to run before an arrow pierced you- and certainly not cupid’s one. 
but with blade, everything is different. there is no arrow to run from, not in the life that elio has foreseen for you. for the first time in your life, you can stop running away and try fall into the arms of love with little remorse.
it's just ironic that you fall into the arms of a man who should not be touched.
“y/n’s not coming with us today,” silver wolf reports after meeting up with the other two stellaron hunters.
“oh?” kafka hums, “usually y/n’s always willing to hangout, why’s that?”
“busy or something, i don’t know, i didn’t care to ask.”
the slight scrunch of displeasure in blade’s expression passes by the keen eyes of both kafka and silver wolf. if either of them had noticed then perhaps it would have been a topic of interest, but for the time being, the pair move on (faster than the third member), your unusual absence dismissed in favour of where to get food.
as the days turn into nights and elio issues more missions and mumbles more futures, blade feels as though he sees you less and less.
it’s not intuition more than it is you purposefully ignoring and evading blade in your everyday, though.
“good morning,” kafka’s voice greets when she walks in to the cafeteria, where you were eating breakfast alone. setting down your phone, you regard her with a mouth full of bread. “gross. at least swallow first.”
“screw off,” you murmur. “how did you sleep?”
“fine fine, i woke up in the wrong position though and my neck is killing me, but what about you? seems like you’ve been up a while.”
“i’ve been up since asscrack of dawn.” 
the purple-haired regards you with amusement. “why’s that?”
“body clock or whatever,” you lie, staring down at your glass of water.
“i see,” kafka hums half-heartedly, as if seeing right through you. “well, i’m going to get some coffee, i’ll be right back.”
“mk.”
you’re left on your own for only a few minutes, waiting patiently in silence for kafka to return. the morning is cool and pleasant, and the smell of rain is still heavy in the air as the morning dew lightens the atmosphere. the weather will surely get hotter as the day matures, but for now, you enjoy the gentle caress of sunlight on your back.
or rather- you were enjoying the gentle caress of the sun, but the methodicalness of it all is ruined when you spot a certain figure with dark, long hair beside kafka.
suddenly the last thing you know is peace and calm, and the abrupt, painful scraping of your chair against the floor symbolises that.
“going somewhere?” kafka asks.
picking up your scraps, you avoid blade’s gaze. “yeah! i- uh, realised that i have some documents to drop off for elio by twelve or whatever.”
“won't you stay to keep us company for breakfast,” the purple-haired tempts, “it feels like it’s been so long since we’ve spent some proper time together.”
“has it?” you laugh nervously and kafka easily picks up the pitchiness of your tone. “i’ll make it up soon, i promise, i’ve just been overflowed with things to do.”
“alright. you be off then. don’t work too hard.”
“i won’t. my head is remaining tight on my shoulders, don’t you worry!” you reassure before scrambling away, feeling like your legs could not be any slower as you retreat away from blade’s scrutinising gaze. when you round the corner, you sigh a breath of relief. 
it’s laughable and simultaneously admirable how dedicated you are about dodging every interaction possible, but for the record, you think you’re doing quite well. not that space was doing many favours for your heart, but persistence is key. 
whoever believed that distance makes the heart grow fonder just clearly didn’t try enough, because yours feels like it’s about to hammer out of your chest with how fast it is racing, and the sensation is equivalent to something like pain rather than fondness.
“i’m worried,” blade mutters, gaze lingering on where you’d just disappeared. “and why does y/n talk like i’m not right here?”
“aww, are you upset?” coos kafka, taking a seat. the swordsman mimics her.
“why wouldn’t i be? it feels like y/n has been ignoring me as of late.”
kafka hums thoughtfully, swirling her coffee cup around.
“do you know anything about that?”
“nup. nothing at all,” she answers, feigning ignorance to the many suspicions that are bubbling around in her mind. the last thing kafka is, is blind, your unusual behaviour has not bypassed her perceptive eye at all, but she believes she has uncovered the reasoning as to why; said reasoning being a certain swordsman.
the revelation is definitely interesting, and she might just be able to give the push you both need.
“y’know what, bladie? if it concerns you that much, i’d say you go check up on y/n later,” kafka suggests.
“why not you?”
“i’ll be busy, but i think some support in dire times is just what y/n needs.”
“okay. fine.”
when blade gathers the courage to check up on you, like kafka recommended, the time is nearing 5pm. the sun is beginning to cool, the animals are retreating into their nests, and the big, bad, intimidating stellaron hunter is roaming around the archives, where you’re situated to work, hoping to locate you.
it takes a few laps around to finally find your placement because you’re fast asleep, only identifiable to blade by the jacket you hung on the back of your chair.
the sight of you hunched over your desk over a multitude of forms and papers causes a wave of concern (however much he can feel) to wash over blade, and suddenly, he does something completely foreign to him: dote over someone.
gently lifting your jacket to cover your shoulders, he stills when you shift a little, your eyebrows furrowing in your sleep. deciding to leave you alone, all blade spares is one lasting look at your vulnerability before leaving. 
he wonders what it is that could be making you so frustrated. 
(if only he knew). 
a few days later, kafka confronts you about the suspicions that’s been creeping to the forefront of her mind.
“did you do something to piss a certain bladie off?” 
kafka’s saccharine voice is laced with mischief as she leans towards you, chin resting on the palm of her hand. she certainly does not miss the way you tense up at the mention of the swordsman’s name and her smirk widens when you shuffle away, subconsciously turning away, as if avoiding the subject.
“i can’t think of why i would have,” you murmur, crossing your arms. “why?”
“oh, nothing, he’s just been complaining and crying a lot recently.”
“he does that all the time.”
“so he does,” your fellow stellaron hunter hums. “except he’s mentioning your name a lot more nowadays.” 
you freeze. “what?”
“hm? did i say something peculiar?”
inhaling a deep breath, you steady yourself. you know what kafka wants out of you and you’re not going to give it to her despite how innocent and pretty she spins the web to look. after all these years together, you hope to have learnt a thing or two about how to avoid her snare.
“what is blade saying about me?” you quiz. 
she blinks at you. “why so curious if you haven’t done anything?” 
“can i not ask about something that involves my name? besides, he’s my friend, i want to know what he’s saying,” you lean against the back of the couch, trying to calm the involuntary shake in your legs. you despise that the slightest mention of blade can cause a bottomless pit to form in your stomach and it’s not because of how intimidating or threatening he is. 
no, it’s because you’ve fallen for him, hook, line, and centre.
and blade would have to die before you ever tell him.
“mostly just grumbles about wondering where you are,” kafka expands, waving her hands about to match her words. “he asked silver wolf and i if you’ve been talking to us and when we said ‘yes’, he looked pissed! when i asked why he was being a sourpuss, he just stormed off.”
“so temperamental, that man,” she sighs. then, she looks back at you with those half-lidded eyes that have always gotten her what she wants, and in this case, they’re answers. “so tell me, y/n, what did you do to our bladie to have him all riled up like this?”
“nothing. absolutely nothing.”
“are you sure?”
“positive.”
“positive?”
you avoid her curious gaze. “positive.”
“maybe i phrased the question wrong. has bladie done something to you instead?”
panic settles within you. “no,” you lie through your teeth. “he hasn’t.”
“so if i asked you why you left breakfast so abruptly that day, you wouldn’t say that it’s because of him?”
“i had work to do, kafka, you know how busy my job gets.”
“i know, i know,” she persists, “then why weren’t you in a hurry before blade arrived that morning?”
you don’t know how to refute that, letting silence speak volumes instead.
“and why did you skip out on lunch with silver wolf and i? was it because we also invited a certain someone?”
“okay! fine, you’ve got me. what do you want to know?” you explode, tossing your phone on the couch in frustration. 
“so it is about blade?” questions your coworker.
“yeah. it is.”
“what about him? did he do something to hurt you? you know he’s accidentally mean sometimes-”
“it’s not that, he’s nothing but a sweetheart.”
“so what’s the problem?”
“that is the problem! he’s just… he’s him.”
“is that bad?”
“for my heart, yes.”
“oh my- so you like him?”
you exhale exasperatedly, “don’t act like you haven’t already figured that out, kafka.”
the cheshire smile she then flashes sends shivers down your spine. for whatever reason, an oppressive feeling grows in your gut, resembling something like a warning.
“you’re right, i knew,” she flaunts. then, her gaze cuts to look behind you. “but i don’t think blade did.”
your heart lurches out of your chest with enough force to pull you off the couch and you stumble around to see that, lo and behold, blade was indeed standing in the hallway. the expression he wears tells you enough; he heard you, he knows.
kafka somehow sneaks her way out of the room, leaving you alone to deal with the face of rejection. it’s daunting being in the same space as him after so long, you almost forgot about the intimidating pressure that blade naturally exudes and projects in every space he enters.
“hi,” you start, looking away. 
he stalks over to you, footsteps soundless before stopping a feet in front of you. instead of saying something, the swordsman merely gazes down at you whilst you keep your eyes glued to the side.
“can you reject me already? the silence is kinda killing me,” you snap after a few seconds, crossing your arms protectively. 
instead of obeying to your request, blade does something completely unexpected; he very gently lifts your chin with his hand, and red eyes bore right into yours. is it odd to feel seen in your demise? because blade is looking- no, surveying you with such immense focus and clarity that your heart stills, frozen in position because it wants him to see the most picturesque part of you. 
(he sees it, but he wants to know more of you. the pretty, the ugly, the likeable, and the unwanted.)
“would you like to go on a date?” he asks.
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© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
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chuluoyi · 7 months
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enduring love
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- nanami kento x reader
love is kind. love is patient. Nanami Kento taught you all that—love and the absolute durability it brings.
genre/warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—in the form of soft sex, pregnancy
notes: based on a whole package request an anon sent me a while ago. there isn't much i can say without spoiling... just that i love soft loving nanami :( check out a very recommended track for this piece!
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
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Nanami Kento was not your first love, but he was the one who taught you about love that endures, even against the worst of odds.
Haibara Yu was your boyfriend when he died, giving his life in exchange of yours and Nanami’s. And his death destroyed you, leaving you devastated, as you not only lost your childhood best friend but also a significant part of yourself.
And he made Nanami promise something to him—taking care of you. And of course, Nanami would. Even if Haibara didn’t ask for it, he would. Because when it came to you, he was willing to do anything.
He couldn’t say it back then, that he was already and utterly in love with you.
You were so grateful for his sheer presence. With Nanami by your side, you felt a sense of security and comfort, which helped to fill the void left by Haibara to some extent.
“Thank you for checking up on me. I’m fine,” you had said to him with a soft smile. You remembered it clearly—it was Haibara’s second death anniversary. You still shed tears before his picture at the columbarium hall, but you meant it when you said you were fine.
“That’s... good then.” Nanami didn’t look like he was convinced, but he nodded regardless.
“You can stop doing it now, you know,” you mumbled with a sigh. It wasn’t fair to him, you realized it from the get-go, but unconsciously, you too needed him to cope with your dearest’s death. “It’s never your responsibility in the first place. I’m… thankful that you’re always there for me.”
At that time, Nanami was already in love with you, but he was also a coward. A coward who had decided to leave the jujutsu world behind, and so he took your words and left with a broken heart. But unbeknownst to him, you would never forget how he looked—downcast eyes, clenched fist, as if you had told him to begone altogether.
In the years that he spent away from curses and the sorrow that followed, he did try to forget about you, but in the end, he just couldn’t. You were like sunshine that brightened his younger, happier days. To him, your existence helped him to get past Haibara’s death too. And his love for you was already engraved in him by default, even if he couldn’t act on it.
Nanami’s departure hurt you more deeply than you thought. You were incredibly lonely. Gojo and Shoko were there, but it hardly filled the void left by his absence. They say life goes on, and so you continued to live the life Haibara had saved for you, with the hope that someday, Nanami would return.
Life is funny because no one can predict how it turns out. Nanami found it ironic, that he left only to come back.
But when he saw you again after four years, still the same but even more beautiful than ever, with tears in your eyes as you welcomed him back, he thought it was all worth it.
“I’m… glad,” you muttered amidst the flowing tears, trying to wipe it away in embarrassment. “Sorry, ugh… I didn’t mean to cry. It’s just that it’s been so long…”
And Nanami only laughed at that. A genuine chuckle. Your heart soared at the sight.
He was different. He no longer sported that geeky haircut. Now he was suave, neat and of course—handsome. You never realized how attractive he was until now.
“I missed you too, Y/N,” he said with a warm smile. To him, the fact that you cried at his expense was enough to make him happy. It signified that you regarded him as an important presence in your life, and that was enough for him.
“Are you doing this temporarily?” you asked warily afterwards.
He responded with a thoughtful hum. "I believe... no, I've concluded that this is way better than my previous banking job. At least here, I can fully utilize my abilities."
Your eyes seemed to glimmer with something at his response.
“Then, can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“Can you…” Your cheeks flushed with warmth as you asked, but you brushed it aside. “Can you promise me that you… won’t leave again?”
It was as if everything he had known was nullified with that question. Nanami had always assumed he might hold significance in your life, but he thought that to you, he was dispensable.
"Yeah, I won't," he said resolutely. "I won't leave again, Y/N."
On that day, he came to the realization that it was perfectly fine for him to express these feelings for you now.
To outsiders' point of view, it was bound to happen anyway. Gojo had always known that Nanami held this not-so-hidden affection for you and wholeheartedly supported him when he witnessed the effort he put into pursuing those feelings. It was comical really, that you heard it first not from Nanami himself but rather from him.
You remembered that day too—he was so furious at Gojo that he kicked him out. He looked so embarrassed. Granted, this was not at all how he had envisioned confessing to you.
"I won't hide it any further. I... have been harboring these feelings for you." He couldn't even look at you in the eyes. The two of you were no longer those teenagers in Jujutsu High, but oddly it was hard to say it out loud. "You're free to reject me, of course—"
"Nanami Kento." It bugged you, how formal he was acting around you, and no, you were done with this too. You returned his feelings, had been for a while now. "We should just get together."
And just like that, you were finally in a relationship. It was long road to reach this point, and yet it was only the beginning.
Nanami was supportive, affectionate, and ready to shield you from any harm. You loved him with all your heart. Whenever you two visited Haibara's memorial, he would grip your hand tighter and reassure you of his presence, and if there was one thing you were certain of regarding Haibara, it was that he would have complete trust in Nanami to care for you.
Birthdays, anniversaries, and other milestones, you two celebrated it together. It was almost picture perfect—you were so happy together, as if you were made for each other.
"Kento," you gasped when you opened the gift box he had gotten for your birthday, discovering a pristine watch inside. "This..."
"Do you like it?" he asked softly, smiling, brushing your hair aside. His eyes crinkled with delight when he saw your elated expression.
"I love it!" you exclaimed heartily. And normally you wouldn't be this impulsive, but since it was your birthday, surely you could afford a whim or two.
You kissed him on the cheek, making a playful smooching sound that left him pleasantly reeling and flustered.
You dated him for two years. In those two starling years, Nanami proved to be an exceptional boyfriend. You were confident that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him, and he felt the same way about you.
Regardless, when he dropped down on one knee with a ring box in his hand, you still couldn't help but tear up.
"Will you marry me?" He knew the answer already, but he was determined to make it the most memorable day of your life, with him promising his undying love for you.
Through tears, happiness and everything else, you laughed. A free laugh that conveyed your love for him. "Yes!"
The two of you were married for three years, and Nanami was the best husband you could ask for, and being his wife was the honor you'd never turn down no matter how many times you were asked. If there was one thing you'd rather see less from him though, perhaps it was his tendency to rush headfirst into danger.
Once, he went back home with bloodied side and you immediately rushed and fussed over him with concern.
"What sort of cursed spirit did you face?" your hands were shaking as you dabbed alcohol to his wound. He wasn't usually injured, so this came as a shock.
Nanami winced, but he still smiled, trying to convince you that he was fine.
He didn't want to tell you about it, because frankly, even he didn't know that much. He only knew that his attacks weren't effective against that sadistic cursed spirit with stitches all over his body.
"It was an accident, love," Nanami brushed it aside. "I just made a mistake is all."
"Still!" you lips quivered at the possible worst scenario. "Couldn't you just run away?"
"It was not that easy... I had Gojo's student with me too, I couldn't just leave him to face a special grade alone now, could I?"
Your expression turned horrified, and he regretted his slip. "Special grade...?"
You were like a flower, and Nanami cherished you greatly. He hated seeing you in distress, especially if it was caused by him.
You had to understand eventually, because you were a jujutsu sorcerer too. In this line of work, nothing is guaranteed. So you looked down and let out a sigh. "Can you promise me something, Kento?"
"Of course. Anything for you, love."
"If it ever gets too dangerous—if you sense that your life is in danger," you locked eyes with him, your gaze filled with determination and hope. "Please. I beg of you. Just run. Come back to me."
And he nodded, pulling you to his bare chest, as you sniffled against him. "Yes, dear. I will. I promise. Don't cry now, okay?"
Witnessing your tears never sat right with him, and he was willing to do whatever it took to erase that sadness.
The way he caressed you so fondly and gently was how he proved the extent of his love for you. A love that had been brewing for twelve years, ever since he was a first year in this unforgiving jujutsu world, only able to keep his crush hidden away at the furthermost corner of his heart as he saw you with someone else, until now, much later, as your husband who was yours as much as you were his.
Your body reacted with each of his tender touch. Your cheeks lighted up with the most adorable color of red, and lust was evident in your eyes. As Nanami towered over you, shushing you with soft words and asked you where you wanted to be touched, he was trying his hardest to be patient.
"Tell me, sweetheart," he whispered in your ear. "Tell me how I can make you feel better."
You were too shy to tell him, so you guided his hand to where you wanted to be touched the most, and then before you knew it, you were letting out several moans, unable to hold them in.
Nanami was always well in preparing you. He had to at least make you cum once or twice before actually inserting himself in you. Because your needs and comfort always came before his.
His thrusts were slow but deep, with your legs wrapping around his waist. He kissed every inch of your body that he could reach, worshipping you, reveling in your blushed face.
And when he came inside you, filling you full and warm with his seed, you felt nothing but sheer relief and bliss. The aftercare was wonderful too, as Nanami made sure that you were comfortable—cleaning you up and tucking you in, kissing your tears away.
Shortly after, you became pregnant. It wasn't unexpected, with all your intimate activities. It was a whole new experience entirely, and the two of you were looking forward to it, as the baby inside you grew day by day. You wanted a son, whereas he wanted a daughter who looked just like you.
You wanted this life with him. You wanted to grow old together with him, along with your baby too. And that was why, when Nanami was about to leave for Shibuya, you were sick with worry, a hand on your noticeable bump.
"Do you really have to go?" You wanted to cry, yell, and drag those in headquarters to see you—a wife carrying a child. How could they separate a vulnerable wife from her husband?
Nanami pulled you into his arms, consoling you. "It's going to be okay, Y/N. I'll be back once all of this is over."
"They named Gojo already. And for a curtain of that density to be pulled down—" your voice hitched painfully. "Kento, it must be a well-thought plan. I'm afraid for you, please."
To be honest, he didn't know how it would play out. This was a large-scale attack and every jujutsu sorcerer in the country was summoned in response. As much as he feared for himself, he had to, because it was his responsibility, and doing this would keep you safe.
With the tearful farewell and final touch on your belly to feel his baby kick him, Nanami left you to march towards the battlefield.
Life is funny because you never know how it turns out. Nanami once again came to see just how unforgiving this jujutsu world was when Gojo was sealed and half of his body was burnt beyond repair.
He wouldn't be able to make it back home now.
His chest constricted at how he wouldn't be able to go back to your arms again, or see you give birth to his child. Even though he had planned everything—in his dream, he would take you to Kuantan, away from jujutsu and live the rest of your lives there in peace.
This world was cruel to him, but all he could hope now was that it would spare you. He was sorry to leave you again. He was sorry to break his promise. He was so sorry that you would go through the anguish of losing someone precious again, because this time, it was even greater than when you lost Haibara.
He wasn't ready to leave you, but when he saw Itadori Yuji sprinting towards him, suddenly he was certain. Because when he saw his face, all he could see was the fact that he could trust him with everything.
Perhaps it was what Haibara felt when he trusted you to him.
"You've got it from here." He smiled at Yuji, as the boy looked towards him in pure terror.
Was it a figment of his imagination? Because he could see Haibara in front of him now, with that energetic smile of his.
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A bloodcurdling scream escaped your lips when Yuji arrived in front of your doorsteps to inform you of Nanami's death. You were wailing and utterly inconsolable, especially when he told you that not even his remains were left.
You didn't know what to do. You just sat there, sobbing your heart out in Yuji's arms until you passed out. The next thing you knew was that you were in your bed, with the boy sleeping on your bedside table in a very awkward position.
You recalled the envelope from your husband that Yuji gave you last night. You scrambled for it, and found two plane tickets and a letter.
Y/N. I'm sorry. I'm not sure why I'm writing this either, but I can't leave you with nothing in case I didn't make it. First and foremost, I want you to know that I love you. So much more than you can imagine. Ever since our first year, and up until now and forevermore. I love you. With this, I'm letting you know that I've booked a flight for Kuantan for you and Itadori-kun as well, but I have a feeling that he wouldn't come with you. Even if he doesn't, I beg of you, please just go. I want you and our baby safe and away from all of this. Lastly, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for leaving you again. I'm sorry that I can't see and raise our child with you. You don't have to forgive me. Know that I'll be doing my best to come back to you, but if fate doesn't spare me, then please know that with all of heart, I love you and I won't leave you if I can afford it. You have changed the course of my life, and I'm grateful for it. Falling in love with you is my greatest joy, I want you to know that.
A bout of tears overcame you and woke Yuji up. You felt your insides churn with dread and your baby kick you with such fervor that it hurt. He was gone, really gone, leaving you in this perilous world alone.
And yet, to his last breath, all he could think of was you. It hurt so much, and yet you were glad, that you could light up his world the way he described it. His greatest joy.
Nanami Kento's love for you, the one he once endured and then held for years, reached you deeply. It is love unlike any other, more pure and heartfelt than you could ever imagine.
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did I cry while writing this? yes.
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afewfantasies · 13 days
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I don't know why but when I first started reading feyd fanfics, in my mind feyd would dye/paint his teeth every day because he thought it looks intimidating and now there will forever be the image of feyd sitting at a vanity every morning meticulously coloring his teeth black
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"Black Smile"
OMG, I love this so much. We know Feyd loves to put on a show, so this fits. Anything to add to the persona, the intrigue and the pageantry of it all. Here's a little Feyd X Reader imagine with this premise. Feyd is also the current Baron.
ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 575
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Feyd X Reader (Established relationship w/ children)
ᴘʟᴏᴛ: Feyd's painting his teeth to prepare for a public appearance. His small children see it for the first time.
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: None, this ones fluffy 🖤
"Black Smile"
Turning Feyd stops painting his smile at the sound of little feet, casting a look over his shoulder he stops seeing his children. His daughter scrunches her face up stopping dead in her tracks. He prepares for the worst but thankfully there are no tears.
“Daddy what’s that?” She asks amusing him. She only knew daddy, not Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. “Daddy I don’t like it” she adds coming closer. Seeking him for comfort in spite of his look being the reason for her uncertainty.
“Me neither” His son says both sets of little eyes pairing at him. Feyd turns again as you enter the bedroom. It brings back memories of your first meeting, when it was the only way you knew him. Black teeth to add to the terror.
“Your mommy likes it” Feyd says and both children turn to you in shock..
“They were coming to say goodbye and wish you a safe voyage” you explain running your hands over your babies heads. Feyd nods.
“Mommy you really like it?” Your daughter asks skeptically and you nod.
“C’mere” he growls playfully sending both kids screaming before he can give chase. You smile as they run out the chambers.
“Missed a spot” you tell him pointing to a white streak along one of his teeth. He finishes up the job leaving all of his teeth smooth and black before curing them with so it looks natural and lasts.
“How do I look?” Feyd rasps adapting the voice and the terrifying persona of his reputation.
“Like a Harkonnen” you respond.
“Daddy?” Your son calls running back into your room. Feyd raises a brow.
“Can I have it too, I want to scare my sister” your son bounces. Instead of saying no Feyd picks your boy up sitting him on his lap. You laugh knowing your little girl will be next in line.
“I’m not sure I like this” you confess looking at your son’s black teeth and gums as Feyd cures the paint. Your kid hisses at you and you laugh thinking it must be hereditary. He runs back out the room and you listen out for screams. Sure enough a blood curling scream proceeds hysterical laughter. Running hard your daughter re-enters bouncing.
“Daddy, Daddy, me tooo!” She bounces and Feyd picks her up indulging her request. He’s so good with the kids it’s unreal, it warms your heart more than he could ever know.
“Mummy, how’s it look?” Your daughter says giving you a black grin.
“Interesting” you smile and she runs out to terrorize her brother and the staff no doubt. You turn to Feyd in amusement and he pats his knee.
“Your turn” he says.
“No thank you,” you respond having a seat on his knee. Looking at him in the mirror you try to picture him for the first time, you try to remember how he made your heart palpitate, how weary you were of his black smile, how terrified you were of him. “Smile?” You ask and he obliges leaving you to shudder. “Terrifying papa” you wink at him in the mirror earring a smile. 
“Good” he nods and you chuckle holding back your smile. It never ceased to amaze you the lengths Feyd would go to to serve maximum horror. There was a sense of pageantry and exaggeration that you found ironic and amusing. Of course he’s never needed the black smile to be intimidating but it adds a little je-ne-sais-quoi. 
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Authors note: thanks for the idea anon, genuinely never considered this possibility - its been fun to ponder 🩶
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leclercstarrs · 10 months
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protecter, daryl dixon.
summary: in which your daughter gets curious about you and daryl’s relationship after he continues to protect the two of you!
warnings: obviously reader has a kid, fem!reader, and this is not yet proof read!
notes: requested by anon, hope this finds you well bby!
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The prison is gone. The governor destroyed it and everything in it’s path, leaving it for the dead to make their new home. Now, the group is separated, everyone off with their own smaller group, hoping to reunite and find each other again.
You, fortunately, got split off with your daughter, who you never would’ve left, and Daryl. The three of you are somewhere in the forest, surrounding a small fire, eating scraps of the rabbit the man killed.
“Here, want some more?” You offer your daughter some more of your share of the rabbit meat, making sure she’s not going hungry for the night. “No, she can have some of mine.” Daryl insists, gently pushing your hand back down, instead offering the little girl some of his share. “I’m full.” Your daughter rejects the offer, brushing her hands off on her pants, “Ya sure?” He asks again. She nods in response.
“Okay, let’s go to sleep.” You move towards your daughter and give her your sweater, leaving you in a tank top. It’s a cold night, but she’s your priority at the moment, so you help her put on the clothing. “Night, mommy.” She mumbles, pausing for a second and patting the wood chips and dirt down, then lying down. “Goodnight, Daryl.” The girl adds. You glance at him, admiring his smile at your daughter.
Your daughter sits up, scanning her surroundings. It’s still dark out, she couldn’t sleep. “Mommy.” She whispers, attempting to wake you up. Your currently sleeping next to Daryl, his arms wrapped around your waist, soft snores escaping from his lips. “Mommy.” The young girl shakes you again. “What’s wrong?” Daryl shoots up when he hears your daughter’s voice, immediately grabbing his crossbow that’s next to him, turning back to face her. “I couldn’t sleep.” She says. “Oh.” Daryl places the weapon back down, carefully shuffling around to sit next to the girl, deciding to let you get some more rest.
“What’s keeping ya up?” He asks your daughter, receiving a shrug in response. “
Are you scared?” Daryl tries a different approach to his question.
She shrugs.
“Okay.” He pauses, starting to feel awkward in the silence, deciding to pick a small flower out of the ground and twirl it around in his hands. “So, you’re dating my mom?” She blurts out. Daryl’s eyes widen slightly, causing him to drop the flower, turning to face her. “What?” He replies. “I’m not stupid.” The girl pauses, “I know you like her.” She continues, teasing the older man about your relationship with him. He gets flustered, slightly blushing, “None of your business, it’s personal, adult stuff.” He scoffs, earning a laugh from her. “It became my business. You’re always protecting us, which is nice. I like you, I think you’re good for my mom. But..” She sighs, “If you ever do anything to hurt her, you won’t see the next day.” She threatens the man. Daryl shakes his head, not taking your daughter seriously, but still responding with an honest answer, “I’d never hurt her.”
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girlboypersonthingy · 27 days
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Hiiii I wanted to request hazbin boys x injured male reader? Reader gets into a scuffle, gets roughed up quite a bit and comes home not looking too well (I wanna see em fuss over the reader lol)
Mmph, yes yes, I love boys fussing over their injured darling. Too fuckin cute! I have so many great requests for Hazbin and Helluva, I’m so excited 🫨 thanks for the request and enjoy anon 💟
Notes: gn!reader bc anyone can get into a scuffle so why not, mostly fluff with a sprinkle of angst
TW: blood, bruises, fighting, cussing, of course it’s suggestive during Angel’s part 😉
Includes Lucifer, Angel Dust, Husk, Sir Pentious, Vox and Alastor
Hazbin boys x reader- Bruises 🖤
You’re not sure who roughed you up, you barely got a look at the dudes before you were laid out on the dirty sidewalk getting punched and trying to push one of the perpetrators off you. Whoever he was, he was strong and brutal and must’ve really had a problem with you because damn, you were fucked up. Not that you couldn’t hold your own, but there was more than one of them and they really caught you off guard. You had suffered several blows to the face and a few kicks to the stomach and back. Seemed like the group showed just a bit of mercy tho- they could’ve broken your legs or straight up killed you. Luckily, you limped away with only minor injuries but a huge blow to your psyche. While it could’ve been worse, it was horrific and traumatizing regardless.
It’s hard trying to stay tough and take care of yourself because you’re scared, feeling like you’ll have to look over your shoulder from now on when you’re out on the streets. It was also a bit embarrassing considering Husk and Angel offered to tag along with you to keep you safe but your dumb ass insisted you were fine alone.
It was late now, around the time everyone went to bed at the hotel so you were expecting to silently creep inside, hobble to your room and take care of yourself in secret. And if anyone asked about the marks or bruises the next day, you’d just blame it on a wild night of partying. To your surprise, as you walk in the door the entirety of the hotel’s staff and residents were sitting on the floor and couches in the front room, drinking and talking by the fireplace. Of course, Charlie had everyone doing some bonding bullshit late at night. The sound of the door clicking open has everyone’s eyes looking towards you now. “Ah, shit…” Leaves your swollen lips as the crowd gasps and one by one, they all stand and approach your damaged figure. Finally, the one person you really didn’t want to see you like this comes rushing forward to get a good look at you.
Lucifer 🍎
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“Oh, Satan! (Y/N), are you okay? What happened? Ohhh, my poor angel!”
Proceeds to fuss and worry over you while wearing the saddest expression :,( his poor bb
Might actually cry a little…just hurts him to see his darling all banged up.
It’s not just the physical pain he senses, it’s the emotional pain you feel too- the fear and the trauma and the stress of it all
His hands just hover all around the most damaged parts of you- fingers almost touching your eye which was now swollen shut, his thumb ghosting over your busted bottom lip
Whisks you away to his room and runs you a bath. Gets you all clean and is probably still whining and crying over you as he watches the bath water turn red with all the blood washing off you and gets you ready for bed.
He’s an emotional man, okay?
He also feels extremely guilty for not being there to protect you. Even if you bluntly told him you don’t need his protection, he feels like it’s still his fault at least a little bit.
Miiiiiiight start a silly little argument over you never leaving the hotel or his side ever again lol
“I just want to protect you, my love. Please! Stop being stubborn.”
He’ll really really baby you tho.
Like even if your legs are working fine, NOPE! Don’t move an inch. Luci will carry you anywhere you desire.
“Lucifer, I just have a black eye and some scrapes. I can walk just fine, babe.”
And he’ll just ignore you and continue to coddle you and do everything for you
For sure this man peppers very gentle, very soft and slow kisses on your tender face once you’re cleaned up and finally resting in his bed
And he for sure cries again in the morning when he wakes up and your face looks even worse
Probably even panics a bit like-
“IM TAKING YOU TO A HOSPITAL OH MY SATAN!!! MY POOR BABY WWAAAA!”
“It’s just some bruises! Luci, they always look worse before they look better, I’m fine.”
Just calm him down with some kisses and words of love
Angel Dust 🕸️
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“Holy shit! What happened, babe? Oh no…this is bad. This is sooo bad! This is why we wanted to go with ya.”
Also gets very dramatic and concerned, looks so sad over your battle wounds
But of course he’s a flirt even under tough circumstances and can make a dirty joke even in the most dire situations
He’d definitely tell you you look hot asf and that you’re soooo brave~
Tries to lighten the mood a bit
“(Y/N), I wanna be the only one who gets to rough you up.” *pouts but also winks at you*
Angel has had his fair share of beatings courtesy of Valentino so he’s very good at first aid and knows tons of tricks to help with bruising, cuts, scrapes, preventing scars, relieving the pain.
He’s great at the clean up part but even better at the comfort part
Brings out all six arms to wrap you up in while you lay in his bed, cuddling up to you while offering soft kisses to the parts of you that aren’t so sore.
Angel is always down to fuck so if you’re feeling up to it, he’ll offer you some great sexual healing while being oh so careful of all your wounds and all the painful spots.
Will let you take control too, he hopes it’ll make you feel better and maybe return some of the confidence you lost from this scuffle.
He can spot a bruised ego from a mile away and he’ll do anything to get you feeling happy and secure again.
Also argues with you about never letting you go anywhere alone ever again lol he just loves you too much. If you’re gonna get jumped, he’s either gonna be there to help you out of it or he’s gonna be taking half the beating right next to you.
Reminds me of a song…
“I wanna walk with you, wherever you go to. I wanna hurt with you. Whatever you go through, I do too.” -sour switchblade by Elita
Yeah that’s Angel, just wants to be beside you no matter the circumstances
Husk 🃏
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“Oh, you dummy! This is why we wanted to go with you. Oh, doll face. Who did this? You alright?”
Yeah, he’s mean sometimes so he’s gonna scold you for going out alone before the comforting starts.
Ultimately, he doesn’t pull you away to get you cleaned up or anything. Lets you decide what to do next, where to go. He just follows you and keeps a hand on you somewhere to let you know he’s here for you.
Will whip up any drink you ask for in hopes of it relieving the pain a bit
But he’s sneaky, he’s gonna ask you tons of questions about what happened, who did it, where you were, how many of them there was. Won’t give you your drink until you answer him.
Husk is plottin and schemin, wanting to get back at the assholes who did this to you. Hes thinking about all the cool, little weapons he has and what he can do with them to teach those jerks a lesson.
In the end tho, he does get more sentimental and soft spoken later while cuddled up to you in bed.
He’ll purr softly in your ear while letting his hands gently roam your body, tracing comforting circles all over your bruised skin
Will def wrap you up in his silky wings and then proceed to pour out his entire heart to you.
“I love you. I’m so glad you’re okay. You need to listen to me. I know better than you, I’ve been down here a long time. You have to be more careful. I dunno what I’d do if I lost ya, doll. You gotta stick with me, I’ll always protect ya.”
Once you fall asleep, he wanders out to the lobby to find Angel at the bar and there they talk about teaming up to get revenge on the assholes who dared to touch Husk’s little babe
The next morning, of course they’re still talking about it. You’ll have to tell these idiots to stop and just let it go bc omg they sound crazy rn they’re gonna make a mess if you let this continue
Buuuut if you kinda like them fussing over you this much, then by all means let them do their thing as you sit back and enjoy the attention
Ooooh, Husky is getting maadddd. Kinda cute when he lets a protective growl slip out while talking to Angel. Aww he loves you~
Sir Pentious 🐍
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Immediate tears and full blown panic attack at the sight of your battered face.
“OH MY GOODNESSSSSS!!! My baby! My darling! Ohhhhhh, you poor thing, come here! I’ll take care of you.”
Doesn’t care that the entirety of the hotel residents are crowded around watching you two- Pentious holds you like a baby in his arms and carefully sinks to the ground with you, holding you so tight it actually kinda hurts due to all your bruises.
Cries for a while like this- goes back and forth between examining your bruises and cuts and bloody nose with his watery eyes to then burying his face in your neck as he weeps for you.
“Pen, I’m okay. Just a little banged up. Nothing I can’t handle.”
“I CAN’T HANDLE IT!!! You’re too pretty to be beaten up like thisssss. Aawwwww.” And he’s crying even harder now.
And this goes on for a while until you finally decide to get up and go to your room with him to get cleaned up.
Babies the absolute fuck out of you- brings you food in bed and tries to feed it to you, gets you in the bath and refuses to let you touch anything while insisting he do all the work for you, carries you everywhere.
It’s actually so nice tho- he washes your hair for you real slow and firm as he scrubs your scalp, very carefully washes the dirt and dry blood from your skin only to reveal more bruises he hadn’t seen before, carefully applies ointment to your bloody cuts and scrapes
Listen…this man is not gonna stop crying until you are 100% healed up. Even the next morning, you wake up beside him to see his face wet with tears as he sniffles.
At least you know he really truly deeply cares for you and loves you 💚
“Oh, it’s okay, babe. I’m felling so much better today, especially since I get to start my morning in bed with you.”
And now he decides he’s gonna keep you in bed all day and continue to baby and pamper you
Keeps his tail and most of his body wrapped around you loosely all day as you watch movies and relax. Cant stop staring at your face and focusing on each blue and black bruise you wear, eyeing every cut and scrape and the split skin on your lip.
You took a beating and he thinks it’s only fair that you and him stay in bed until you’re truly feeling well enough to resume your normal daily tasks.
Of course, he has to stay with you in case you need something! Can’t leave his injured partner alone, wouldn’t dream of it!
Vox 🖥️
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(I know he’s not at the hotel, pretend you just walked into V Tower instead, k?)
REVENGE REVENGE REVENGE
“WHAT. THE. FUCK?! Who? Where? When? HOW FUCKING HOW DARE THEY-“
You’ll have to cut him off or he’ll go on an entire raging tangent about revenge and eventually short circuit lol
“Voxy, I’m okay. Don’t worry about it. I just wanna get clean and go to bed.”
He slowly cools off and begins to focus more on you and your injuries, asking if you’re okay or if there’s anything he can do. Now behind closed doors, his entire attitude changes.
He’s following you into every room, watching you with an expression of intense sadness and concern, wishing he could take all your pain and give it to himself instead. He’d suffer for you if it meant seeing you happy and healthy
Sits in the bathroom in silence but keeps you company while you wash up. He might ask if you need help but also wants to give you space and make sure you feel safe
Assists you in getting dressed while making it very romantic and being very attentive. Vox will so slowly slip your pajamas onto you while letting his claws ghost over all your bruises.
Will lean in and kiss your busted lips right as your head pops through the top of your shirt, followed by a smile and probably more kisses
Listen, most of these boys are gonna become way more over protective after this incident okay? Vox is most definitely not an exception
Insists that either He’s gonna be with you every where you go from now on or he’s gonna send security with you every where you go from now on.
And no matter who is with you when you’re out in the streets, his cameras will also be watching over you.
Oh yeah, and he goes back in the cam footage and has a perfect view of the whole incident. He watches it over a few times before ordering a hit on every sinner who dared to mess with his lover.
You’ll never have to worry or look over your shoulder or worry again 😘
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Alastor 🩸
Doesn’t say much or even stay long to worry about you at first.
He’s more angry and bent on revenge than anything. He’s worried about you too but he knows you’re strong and can take care of yourself.
He slips off to do some exploring and investigating to find out who did this to you
Spends maybe an hour figuring it out and then promptly goes on a murder spree to take care of all those pesky sinners who dared to lay a finger on his beloved
Okay, now that that’s out of his system, he can come back and take care of you.
Isn’t as cuddly and romantic as the others but he still babies you and refuses to let you do anything for yourself.
“Now now, darling. Just relax. I’ll have you cleaned up and feeling better in no time.”
Bathes you, dresses you, tucks you into bed all while humming slow tunes to you
Doesn’t cuddle you but sits on the bed beside you and gives your head some gentle pets
“You won’t have to worry any longer, my dove. I took care of those degenerates and I’ll never let you wander the streets of hell alone ever again.”
Will place a gentle kiss on your throbbing head before leaving you to rest.
He’s serious tho, anywhere you go he goes too. You’re never leaving his sight again ❤️‍🩹
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puckinghischier · 6 days
Text
Surprise…?
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Luke Hughes x fem!reader
summary: anon request for luke getting hurt during a game
notes: y’all i think i struggle writing luke for some reason. i just never seem to really like what i write when i write for him. wtf am i doing wrong 😩
[3.3k]
~
There weren’t many times you regretted moving to Jersey, but right now was one of them. The constant traffic within the city wasn’t something that usually got under your skin, but today it was the absolute bane of your existence. Of course, you were in a hurry. A big one. You had approximately thirty minutes until puck drop, and you needed to get there before that puck hit that ice. No exceptions. You hadn’t told Luke what you were doing, so he probably already expected you to be there, wondering why you’re not in your usual seat for warm-ups.
As if he could hear your thoughts, your phone buzzed with a message from Luke, not being able to read what it said while trying to weave in and out of traffic.
“Quinn, can you see what Luke just sent. And then tell him I’m on my way. I don’t want him worrying that I’m not showing tonight,” you ask the Hughes brother currently in your passenger seat.
Quinn grabbed your phone from the cupholder, listening to you rattle off your passcode so he can open Luke’s message.
“He asked where you were, and if you were already there. Wanted to know why you weren’t in your seat for warm ups,” Quinn confirms your thoughts, looking to you for an answer.
“Tell him I’m just running late. Be there before puck drop. And tell him I love him and good luck.”
You hear the sound of Quinn typing your reply as you increase your speed, cursing the people who want to drive below the speed limit in the fast lane. This is what you get for trying to be a good girlfriend and surprise your boyfriend and his brother. You get stuck on the road with New Jersey’s worst drivers.
In your defense, you were supposed to already be safely at the arena in your seats, but Quinn’s airline had different plans. His flight being delayed by three hours gave you barely enough time to run and grab him from the airport and make it back to the Rock before the hockey game started. The only thing saving your ass right now is the fact that if you can just get there, you can go through the player entrance and avoid the crowds trying to get in at the last minute.
“If you don’t calm down and drive like a sane person, we’re never going to get there. We’ll be squashed on the side of the road,” Quinn scolds you, grasping what your dad always called the ‘oh shit’ handles.
“If I can just get around these idiots in front of me we’ll be fine. We’re almost at our exit, then I just have to pull around back and we’re in,” you tell him, once again pressing the gas pedal a little harder.
Quinn stays silent the rest of the drive, closing his eyes once you start speeding around the other cars on the freeway, finally getting to the right exit and rushing to the underground parking that the players always park in. You pull your car into the spot next to Jack’s car, barely even turning the car off before you’re jumping out and sprinting to the entrance.
“C’mon, Quinn! I know you can move faster than that! We only have a few minutes! Move it!” You yell over your shoulder, Quinn barely having gotten out of the car.
“Remind me to never let you drive ever again,” is all he says as he catches up to you, looking a little greener than before.
The two of you make it inside the arena with no issues, sprinting to your seats just as the national anthem finishes, both teams sending their starting lines out on the ice.
You had managed to snag Quinn a seat next to you, asking the team’s manager for a favor to help surprise their rookie defenseman. With no hesitation, he handed you a ticket and a locker room pass for Quinn, knowing how homesick Luke had been lately. You had thanked him a million times, asking him to keep it a secret from both Jack and Luke, not wanting either one of them to know until the day of. He gave you his word, and was also the reason you were given access to the player parking for the night, not wanting Quinn to be ambushed by fans going through the regular entrance.
You felt your heart rate start to slow once you were both situated in your seats, glad that you had made it in time. Neither Jack nor Luke had looked over and noticed you yet, wondering if they were going to clock Quinn before they took their stances on the ice.
Your question was soon answered as Jack looked back and saw you, waving and turning to get Luke’s attention before he did a double take, noticing the brunette sitting to you left. Quinn gave a small wave, flashing his younger brother a smile as you watched Jack’s eyes widen, mouth curving into beaming smile. Luke had turned back, looking in your direction, a relieved smile on his face once he noticed you were finally in your spot, eyes too focused on your figure to notice Quinn’s next to you. It wasn’t until he looked over at Jack and followed his gaze that he finally noticed his oldest brother in the crowd, a Devil’s hat on his head.
Luke’s eyes flicked over to you once again, mouthing ‘what the fuck?’ to you, your only response a shrug of the shoulders and a smirk on your face.
The two brothers quickly focused their attention to the officials on the ice, lowered into their stances, waiting for the puck to drop onto the ice.
“You know they’re going to compete now, right?” Quinn says as he elbows you to get your attention.
“Why would they compete? They’re literally playing for the same team. It doesn’t matter who scores as long as the team wins,” you respond, confused at Quinn’s words.
“It matters now. They do the same thing when mom or dad come to watch them. They want the praise. They want to be able to out perform the other so they can brag about it to me after the game,” Quinn clarifies.
“I don’t know about that. Jack’s been good about trying to set Luke up for success all year, I think they’ll surprise you.”
Quinn gives you a skeptical look, not believing your words, but lets it go otherwise; his attention quickly stolen by the sound of the puck hitting the ice, followed by clashing sticks and skates scraping against the frozen floor.
Much to your surprise, Quinn proved to be right. All throughout the first period, the two brothers fought to get the puck, sometimes even fighting against one another. You noticed the odd looks from their teammates, Nico even skating over to Jack during a tv timeout to ask him what was up, not having seen the pair act like this before. You kept throwing glares at Luke, trying to tell him to knock it off, that they’re playing for the same team, but he wouldn’t look at you for more than a few seconds at a time.
As the second period started, the competition between Jack and Luke had nearly ceased to exist. You assumed they got their asses chewed in the locker room during the intermission, noting how their coach seemed to watch them like a hawk. Once the brothers started actually playing together instead of against one another, the Devil’s were scoring goals left and right, putting up four goals before the end of the second period, one Luke’s and two being Jack’s.
With only three minutes left in the second period, Luke was attempting to get possession of the puck from behind the net, fighting two of the opposing players for the black piece of rubber. He lost control of the puck, and in a moment of frustration, pushed one of the enemy players in the back, wanting out of the sandwich they had put him in. The player he pushed fell forward onto the ice, drawing a penalty on Luke. The official had blown the whistle, stopping gameplay, when Luke looked over at him, frustrated at the call.
What Luke didn’t see was the player who had gotten the puck come skating up behind him at full speed, pushing Luke so hard his skates came out from under him, causing him to land on the ice on his back. He was angled just enough, though, that his body slid at high speed straight into the bottom of the wall a few feet away, head bouncing off the boards along the ice.
You were on your feet immediately, hands flying to the glass in front of you, begging for him to get up. Quinn jumped to his feet next to you, placing a hand on your shoulder, whether to comfort you or himself, you don’t know. Jack leaves his spot on the bench to skate over to his brother, falling to his knees on the ice, hovering above Luke.
Luke hadn’t moved yet. Not a foot twitch, a roll over in pain, or a thumbs up to let anyone know he’s okay. He’s laying lifeless on the ice, trainers calling his name, careful not to touch his head or neck. Your hand flies to cover your mouth, a sob making its way out of you when you noticed the stretcher being put on stand-by near the tunnel. Everything feels like it’s in slow motion, time stopped as Luke continues to lay, unmoving. Quinn tries to move you back from the glass, averting your attention from the scene in front of you, but your eyes are glued to Luke’s body.
You thought you imagined the twitch of his foot, thinking it was where the medics were tapping his leg, trying to coax him awake. When you finally see his body try to roll over, you let out the breath that you didn’t even know you were holding. Your relief was short-lived, however, when you hear the scream that makes its way out of Luke’s throat. You’re not sure which one hurt worse, him lying there not moving or the scream of agony that’s currently echoing through the arena.
Your knees start to give out, eyes blurring from the tears falling down your face. Quinn catches you as you slide down the glass, holding your sobbing figure in a crouched position.
“Quinn, gotta go. Gotta go, locker rooms,” you manage to say between sobs, trying to stand and make your way out of the stands.
“Okay, yeah, let’s go. Let’s get you out of here.”
The fans watch as Quinn guides you out of your seats and up the stairs. Most of them familiar with you, you and Luke not being super private with your relationship. A lot of them are still shouting obscenities at the player who went after Luke, demanding he be suspended. Some of them give you sad smiles as you pass, hoping your rookie is okay.
You finally reach the entrance to the training room, knowing this is where they’ll have taken him before they decide if he needs a hospital or not. You can hear them in there talking to him, unsure if you should enter yet or wait on someone to come out and get you. You stand at the doors, staring into space, when Quinn decides to speak up.
“He’s gonna be fine, Y/N. Probably a gnarly bruise, and likely a concussion, but it could’ve been worse. I know its scary, but I promise, he’s going to be okay. Might not even miss more than a game or two.”
All you can do is nod at the words, unable to do much else at the moment. You try to give a small smile, but you think it comes across as more of a grimace. You turn your head when you hear the door to the training room opens, revealing one of the team trainers.
“Oh, good, you’re already down here. He’s asking for you. Wants you to know he’s awake and okay. Nothing’s broken, just banged up and a mild concussion. Probably going to have him follow up with a doctor tomorrow, but for now he just needs rest. You can go ahead and go in. He won’t be playing the rest of the night,” the man in front of you finishes, stepping aside so you can walk through the open door.
You turn back to look at Quinn, seeing if he’s going to come with you.
“I’ll just give you two a minute first. Go ahead, I’ll be right behind you,” he tells you, wanting a minute to process his own emotions before seeing his baby brother.
You nod and turn to walk into the training room, following the trainer down a short hallway before turning the corner into a room with three different treatment tables, Luke’s long body taking up the farthest one. His head is laying back on a pillow, a large ice pack taped to his right shoulder. His gear is laying in a pile on the floor next to him, completely bare from the waist up. As you get closer, you can see the already purple skin forming in the exposed parts of his shoulder and upper arm. You gasp quietly at the bruised skin, causing Luke’s head to snap up at the sound.
“Hey, pretty girl,” he rasps out, voice raw from his screams earlier.
You stop on the side of the bed opposite to his injury, unable to say anything yet. Tears still streaming down your face, looking him over for any other signs of injury.
“Hey, no need to cry, angel. I’m okay, see. Just a little bruise. Nothing to be worried about. You should see the other guy,” he tries to joke, being told he left a dent in the wall where he hit.
You glare at him through your tears, unhappy with his weak attempt at joke.
“Okay, yeah, maybe not the time to joke just yet,” he brings the hand on his good arm up to rub the back of his neck, looking away from your tear-stained face.
“You were unconscious, Luke…you weren’t moving,” is all you managed, staring at his injured shoulder.
“I know, baby, I know. But I’m awake now, see?” he gestures towards his body with his good arm. “I’m just fine. Yapping ability unaffected,” he once again tries to bring a smile to your face, this time it almost works.
“God, Luke, if you could’ve heard the scream you let out. It was the worst sound I’ve ever heard in my life. I thought my heart was going to rip in two right there on the spot. I don’t ever want to hear the sound again,” you finally look at his face, noting the small cut on his forehead, you assume from his helmet.
“Y/N, I’m so sorry you had to witness all of it. I can’t imagine how it must’ve looked. If the roles were reversed, I don’t think I would have been able to keep myself from trying to climb over the glass to get to you. But I promise, sweetheart, I’m fine. Told me as long as my head’s fine I should only have to miss two games to let the bruise run its course,” he grabs your hand, rubbing small circles with his thumb.
“It was just so scary, Luke,” you sniffle, closing your eyes for a brief moment. You finally start to calm down now that his hand is in yours.
“I know. But now you get to play doctor and take care of me for a few days. Kiss all my boo boo’s better,” Luke wiggles his eyebrows at you, finally earning that laugh he’s been trying to get out of you since you walked in.
“That was probably one of the ickiest things you’ve ever said to me,” you laugh with Luke, fake gagging for dramatic effect.
Luke opens his mouth to say something else, but the the doors to the training room open, cutting him off. The familiar sound of skates against the floor making their way towards the two of you. Jack turns the corner, a frantic look in his eyes until he lands on Luke, awake and sitting up.
“I’m going to kill you for scaring me like that,” Jack points a finger, glaring at his younger brother. “I mean, why the fuck did you hit him, Luke! What were you thinking? You know how these guys are, they’re begging for any excuse to fight! They don’t care if you’re a 20 something rookie, they’re gonna hit back, dumbass!” Jack yells at Luke, throwing his arms around in frustration.
Luke winces at the volume of Jack’s voice, his ears sensitive to loud noises right now. Before you can get the words out to tell Jack to be quieter, Quinn enters the room and does it for you.
“Jack, be quiet for fuck’s sake. He has a concussion; you yelling at him is only going to make it worse. Yell at him later.”
“Well, it was stupid, Q. What he did was stupid,” Jack says in a normal tone of voice, still angry.  
“Don’t act like you’ve never done anything stupid on the ice before. Just because you never get caught when you hit people doesn’t mean you don’t do it,” Quinn walks over to stand beside Jack at the end of the table.
“You good, Moose? Looked pretty nasty out there from where I was sitting. Scared us, man,” Quinn asks Luke, tapping him on the foot. You note the redness of Quinn’s eyes, knowing how much he cares for both of his brothers. The whole situation shook him up, too, you were just too worried about Luke to notice at the time.
“Yeah, m’alright. Head hurts. Shoulder feels like it’s been run over by the ‘boni, but other than that I got off pretty clean. Nothing’s broken. Have to miss two games at least, more if my head ain’t right,” Luke answers Quinn, moving his hand so he can thread his fingers through yours.
“Your head’s never been right, Moose,” Jack says, causing Luke to roll his eyes.
Quinn leans over to bump his shoulder into Jack’s, shaking his head, unimpressed with his joke.
“Wait,” Luke starts, causing everyone to look up at him. “Are we just not going to address the fact that Quinn randomly showed up to the game tonight?”
“Yeah, how did you get here. Shouldn’t you be in Vancouver right now?” Jack adds, looking over at his older brother suspiciously.
Quinn looks over to you, causing the other two Hughes to shift their gaze your way.
“Surprise?” you say as a question, not knowing what to do with all the eyes in the room on you.
“You did this?” You look over at Luke, still nearly eye level with him, even as he’s propped up on the table beside you.
“Well, I know you’ve been struggling with adjusting to life here lately, and you were feeling pretty homesick, so I figured it would be nice for you to have both of your brothers in Jersey for a night or two,” you shrug your shoulders, not seeing the big deal with your actions.
“Tried to get your parents here, too, but they couldn’t leave work right now. They sent their love and apologies, though. Promised me they’d be at a game as soon as they could,” you added, wishing you could’ve had all the Hughes here tonight.
“I….I don’t know what to say,” Luke looks at you, so much affection in his eyes it makes you squirm.
“Well, a thank you would be a nice start,” you joke.
“Thank you. I love you. So much. If I could lean over to kiss you right now I would,” Luke brings your hand up to his mouth, placing a kiss on the back of your hand clasped in his.
“Please, for the love of god, don’t make me witness anything else painful tonight,” Jack interrupts the moment, earning a slap to the back of the head from Quinn.
“Don’t you have a game to go finish, jackass?”
“Oh, shit, yeah,” Jack jumps, forgetting about the last period that’s about to start. “See you at home, Moose, Q. You, too, Y/N. Assume you’re staying over to help take care of the patient, yeah?” He nods his head towards the injured one in the room.
“Yeah, I’ll be there. Be safe, Jack. Good luck,” you wave as he turns to leave.
“I’ll go pull the car around, be back in a few to help you get this ole’ goon out of here,” Quinn announces before leaving you and Luke alone once more.
“So, you’re really going to stay over? Play nurse for me?” Luke asks, looking at you with puppy dog eyes, batting his eyelashes.
“Of course I’m staying over. I can’t trust Jack to make sure you’re not up and around doing something stupid when you’re supposed to be resting.”
“So, if you’re going to play nurse, does this mean we can stop on the way home and get you one of those sexy nurse outfits?” Luke asks, eyes hopeful.
“Maybe they should’ve just left you out there unconscious on the ice, you were less annoying that way,” you fire back, smiling at the laugh Luke let out, thanking your lucky stars your boy is okay.
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