#HE RARELY SEES HIS BOY AND IT HURTS HIM!!!
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chocodaniii · 1 day ago
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᱖˙。ꔫBEELZEBUB HEADCANONS
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᱖˙。ꔫbeelzebub x implied girly! reader
᱖˙。ꔫtw: fluff!! (very short read!)
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᱖˙。ꔫ Beelzlebub is so sweet, he will let you try out your new make up on him and we'll let you do his make up and doesn't care if his brothers see it on him but it's not much of a possibility due to him staying in your room so much but he does snack while you put the makeup on him but he really tries not too.
᱖˙。ꔫ He loves to go shopping with you and he loves to pay for you even though he doesn't have a lot and mostly asks Lucifer for it or steaks what mammon stole from Lucifer but he loves to see you try on your new dress or a new top you got! but stops at the food court 7 times to get food.
᱖˙。ꔫ Since beel gets hungry a lot for no reason, so you always keep snacks just for him in your room so he can have them when he's in your room:)
᱖˙。ꔫ At first pda was a was a very rare thing even though he's so touchy and that's because he was scared to have accidentally hurt you because of the size difference between humans and demons even in or even in private he was weary of touch but once you told him it was okay that he wouldn't hurt you he got very lovey dovey with it, so now in public he's attached to you at the hip for attention and in private too!
᱖˙。ꔫ His favorite thing to do with you is take you to all different restaurants in devildom! but he also loves just taking you out on a little park date, nothing to fancy:)
᱖˙。ꔫ Overall he's just a precious and sweet boy like how can you not love him!!
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-CHOCODANIII (2024 november 7th)
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brainfilehasstoppedworking · 11 months ago
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I just wanna talk to the people that make Takaaki a bad father. I just wanna talk.
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twpsyn-who · 2 years ago
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Stiles Stilinski is my favorite/comfort character, which means that I have a deeply desire to ship him with everyone, wish pain and suffering upon himself and an unresolved need to read 'Dead Stiles Stilinski' fics.
I need more angst in my life. I need him to suffer
#but also I need more what if fics with Stiles dying in many situations. like why there's no fic where he's the third virgin sacrifice????#what if stiles died after getting kidnapped by gerwhateverhisname?? like maybe he tried to do something to save Erica and Boyd that got him#killed or just the events took a darker turn than canon#stiles dying in all those instances where a gun has been pointed at his face#THE NOGITSUNE MAN. Stiles getting affected by the bite Scott gave his double and dying because of it??? Stiles actually dying instead of#losing concussions after they got the nogitsune??? Stiles not having a divine move and actually following with the suicide route????#What If the Nogitsune possessed Allison and is Stiles the one who dies when they go rescue Lydia??? That idea is living rent free in my#mind not gonna lie. I could see Stiles spending time with mr Argent trying to understand why he was able to hurt an Oni#Imagine Stiles stealing Chris's gun (the one he used back then) with only a few bullets in it and a silver knife and when the bullets run#off he stabs the last oni and that's when it hits him. is silver.#ANYWAY the idea was that.therr's no enough dead Stiles Stilinski on AO3 !#and I wanr more#teen wolf stiles#teen wolf#stiles stilinski#all I want for Christmas is more angst and rare ship fics with this boy#PETER EITHER FORCING THE BITE ON STILE OR HIM ACCEPTING ONLY FOR IT TO NOT TAKE???? WHERE'S THAT.FIC AT HUH?????#just... the showdown is over peter is dead and derek is the alpha. everything nice and all until stiles... just falls on the ground.#the argents and jackson didn't need to be werewolves to tell that Stiles was hurt and bleeding but no one beside Derek knew why the blood#was turning black. anc Chris but how do you tell a bunch of kids that one of tgem was dying????#ughhhh my heart man. Derek.offering to mercy kill Stiles??? omg Stiles being like 'Dad. I can't die I can't what about dad?' like he would#ve so worried about him!!! because if Claudia dying broke him? then Stiles dying too would kill the sheriff#so much angst potential yet nothing. unbelievable
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tonycries · 4 months ago
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Golden Boy - G.S.
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Synopsis. Falling right back in love with the cult leader you’re supposed to kíll? Happens more often than you’d think.
Pairing. Geto Suguru x Reader 
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, friends/lovers to enemies to lovers, oral (fem receiving), facesítting, creampíe, slight Gojo x Reader, running away from it, Suguru is so SOOO in love still, unprotected, spítting, kinda angsty, hurt/comfort, mentions of bIood and kníves, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 4.4k
A/N. I was listening to fantasmas while writing this so take that how you will LMAO.
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The difficult part, surprisingly, wasn’t infiltrating Geto Suguru’s Time Vessel Association. No, a few faux tears, a decoy curse, and you were in - stepping through his grandiose hideout. The difficult part was convincing yourself that you were here to kill him. 
Something that utterly foolish little part of yourself still had trouble believing - even when you had a knife to his throat. 
“Any last words?” you spit, muffled through your mask, thankful for the way it covers up just how much your voice shakes. Maybe because of the way his lips curl into a familiar smile, maybe from his cool dagger pressing against the back of your neck.
Seconds away from a bloodbath. 
You don’t know if you’re breathing - or if he is either. Eyes locked on the way Sugur- your target only raises his hand up, up, up - getting ready to strike. To kill. Only you’d get him first and-
Snip!
You’re not dead. But you might as well have been, because your mask falls onto the tatami mat with a deafening clatter. 
“You’re as beautiful as the day I lost you.”
It’s hard not to remember. 
“You don’t have any right to say that.” your knees tighten around where you had him straddled to the ground. Your hand pinning one of his down, blade digging deeper into Suguru’s pale neck - eyeing the slow, steady drop of blood that beads down it. “Didn’t think you’d remember me, either.”
With your mask now no longer on your face, you could traitorously take in that relaxed grin - as if your life wasn’t in his hands right now. As if he didn’t care. 
Suguru’s hair was much longer now, splayed out across the floor inkily. Circling around his broad shoulders, around the eyes that were just a bit harder than they were ten years ago. And yet, you catch the way they flicker briefly with something so raw as he whispers gently, “How could I ever forget my first love?”
So quiet that you could’ve blamed it on your imagination - and you wish you did. 
It’s so unfair. 
Unfair how you let out a gasp, despite yourself. Unfair how you were the best sword wielder that Jujutsu had to offer, yet your fingers tremble on your knife. Heart stuttering at the mere sight of the way his eyes crinkle with the beginnings of a smile. Pleading, like all he could see was you from what felt like a thousand lifetimes ago. 
Those golden years. Back when rare Susanoomon cards were what you’d fight over, and the only stains he’d wipe off were from the grassy grounds of Jujutsu High, still faint underneath the encrusted blood on that uniform nestled away deep in his wardrobe.
You manage to grit out, “Shut up. You left me- us.”
“I did.”
Like it was all he wanted to see. 
“You never loved me.”
“I do.”
Your voice is shrill at this point, words stumbling over each other. “You’ve massacred more people than you’ve saved.”
Suguru wastes no time denying - or in any niceties. Looking right into your absolutely crazed eyes as he answers, “I have.” And his answer rings so hollow and emotionless in your ears, cold-blooded. Absolutely nothing like the boy you remembered. The one that would laugh and steal you away to take you around campus on his bicycle, all because the next class was “too far”.
“I- fuck.” You place both hands on the hilt of your blade, distantly registering the way that Suguru lets his own drop onto the floor. “I should kill you- I should kill you right now.”
Just one flick of your wrist. Fast and simple. 
In and out - exactly like you’d been ordered to. 
“And to die by your hand would be a death that someone like me doesn’t deserve.”
You both jolt when your knife hits the ground - as if neither of you were expecting it. And before you can stop yourself, you’re fisting his thick robes, pulling Suguru’s face up closer to yours. Mere inches away. 
“Then- then I’ll-” you choke, a hand coming up to dig into the sides of his milky neck, leaving neat, red indents on his skin. “I’ll kill you with my own hands, Suguru.”
And he’s known you for years - would never admit it, but was by your side for only half as long as he’d watched over you. 
Saw - only from a distance -  those big fat tears you cried at graduation, the curve of your lips as you pulled a very reluctant Nanami into a hug outside his new office building. The steely look in your eyes meeting Satoru’s much softer one, telling him first how you’re going into teaching. And the smile on your face when you thought of who else might have, too. If he’d gotten the chance.
Always hidden.
Never so close to this frenzied glint in your gaze, a tiny sob threatening to escape your lips. Never like this - and yet, he never thinks you’ve looked so beautiful. 
But what would someone like him know about beauty, anyway?
You flinch as Suguru reaches a hand up to thumb away the furrow between your brows, catching on the single, stray tear sitting at your cheekbone. Whispering - so low that you involuntarily crane your head closer to hear - “Still such a crybaby.”
“And you’re still going to be the death of me.”
Soft - Suguru’s lips are as soft as you imagined. And it’s not exactly the tender, picture-perfectly romantic first kiss his teenage self dreamt up with you, but fuck if he wasn’t going to remember this like it was. 
Perfect. 
Pretty lips smothering yours, all slow and sensual. Drinking in those deliciously breathless gasps of yours as he sucks on your candied lips. 
You gasp, “Suguru.” and it comes out teary. Making you finally register the wetness rolling down your cheeks, glistening against the dim lighting. You tighten your grip around his neck, “This won’t fix-”
“I know.” Fuck, does he know better than anyone else. 
A hand slides up your forearm, the other cupping your face to pull you closer. He’s running his hot tongue along your cheek, pooling your salty tears on his lips. “But let me make you forget - if just for tonight. Please.”
The only answer Suguru gets is your fingers leaving his neck, dancing feather-light across his sculpted shoulders to slide under his robe. Feeling the smooth plane of his pecs underneath your palm, that traitorously thundering heartbeat he wishes he could slow down. “Kiss me.”
“Fuck.” he pants into your open mouth. The sight of your glossy, slightly puffy lips having him surge forward to reattach his with yours with a pained grunt. “God- jus’ a bit more, my love.”
Again. And again and again- like he was addicted. 
He’d always been, with you, anyway.
You let out a sinful sound of his name when Suguru kisses down your neck, lips slotting over your racing pulse. Throbbing and so real under his lips, remembering how he used to feel this song under his arms long before. 
“Oh- shit.” you moan, when his now rougher - larger - hands sneak underneath your crumpled shirt, deftly unbuttoning. Unbuckling. Impatient. “Sugu-”
A hoarse groan leaves him, only spurring him to all but rip the rest of your uniform off your body faster. 
And at the first sight of you clad in nothing but your panties, Suguru’s kiss-bitten lips are falling slack. Brows shooting up into the dark strands of hair sticking to his forehead now, “Been missing out, hm?” He’s dipping a hand down to run the back of his index along your clothed, puffy folds. Up and down. “Really been-” Heart clenching when he remembers the way Satoru now looks at you with a familiar glint. One he knew all too well. “-missing out, my love.”
You’re only trailing your fingers along his cheek - his neck, grazing over that little mark from your blade. He groans - maybe from your touch, probably from the way you’re dragging your cunt across that massive bulge underneath you. “Please, Suguru. Wan’ you.” 
And if Geto Suguru has spent ten years denying himself, surely he could sacrifice it for the way he lifts your stuttering, sloppy hips up so easily. All the way up until they were hovering over his mouth, hot breath hitting your clothed cunt. 
“Wanna taste you.” he groans, spying on the way your slick beads through your panties. “Wan’ see if you’re as hah- sweet as I imagined. Please.”
And he’s obsessed with the way you’re sinking yourself down so gently, cock jumping at the thought of you afraid you’d suffocate him - as if you didn’t have your blade at his throat just minutes ago.
“Fuuuck, don’t worry, pretty.” he groans, soft darting to lick at the juices smeared across your inner thighs. “Some more now. Put it all on me, I can take it- fuck-”
Your syrupy sweet cunt has Geto losing whatever’s left of his fucking restraint, dark eyes rolling to the back of his head because you were so sweet. So pretty looking down at him with your glassy eyes. So addictive. He moans, chest heaving as he breathes in your essence. “What happened to that feist from earlier? Gonna hafta do a lil’ more than that now.”
“B-but-”
It’s at this moment you realize that at any given moment Suguru could’ve easily taken the upper hand. A hand of his pulls down your hesitant hips, swollen lips against your covered ones in such a filthy kiss. 
He hums into your folds, bunching your panties between them. “Mmm. Shit- jus’ like I imagined.” Hot tongue dipping just underneath the flimsy fabric to feel out your sloppy entrance, “Better, even. Jus’ look how well you’re taking me, pretty.”
But you don’t - too scared to find out that you’d like the sight more than you should. How you wished you could go back to the golden days where it didn’t matter - wasn’t a matter of life and death. And something else entirely. 
And this dilemma has Suguru’s brows furrowing, sharp canines lightly nipping at one of your swollen folds. Wanting to see how it’s him - despite everything, it’s still him making you feel this way. “None of that now.”
RIP!
With this you have to look down, a desperate whine leaving your stupid mouth at the fucking sinful sight down below. Your panties now a tattered excuse in between Suguru’s teeth, baring them with such a devilish grin right up at you. 
“See?” he spits out the fabric onto the floor beside him, half-lidded eyes peering up at you so sultry. Looking right at you as his tongue lolls out, spreading your bare, needy folds shamefully. “Isn’t this much better?”
“Hngh- fuck, yes-” you slide your fingers through his now-messy hair, falling out of that half-bun. Jolting on top with each push of his tongue past that feeble ring of resistance, the lewd squelches leaving you with each graze of the wet muscle against your walls. “Shit- Suguru it feels too good. So deep ngh-”
He swats a hand against your ass, making you sit your slutty hips down deeper, all the way till Suguru’s jaw was grinding so greedily against your cunt. Tongue bullying past your folds in and out in and out in and-
“God- hah-” he’s pulling away to gasp deep lungfuls of air - secondary, to the way he was back immediately to making out so hotly with your tight pussy. “Mmm fuck. This cute lil cunt is so needy. S’like you’re trynna suck my tongue off.” Thumb reaching up to draw slow, languid circles that have you throwing your head back. “So perfect.”
Your delirious mouth is dropping open, body moving before your mind as you strain to reach your hand behind. Trembling. Shaky when you manage to cup Suguru’s aching erection. 
“G-guess m’not the only one ah- needy, hm?” you smirk, having him bucking and spitting out harsh little profanities with each rub of your palm down his drenched length. 
Suguru doesn’t give you a response - because his fingers are speaking on his behalf. Dipping into your sloppy hole, locating your g-spot, as if on instinct. He’s milking your pretty cunt while he roams for those sweet spots. Lips muffling around your throbbing clit, “You’re always right, my love. You always were.”
And his words are so gentle - mouth so sloppy. Squelches so obscene. 
Nose pressing up at the top of your abdomen, cheeks hollowing wetly around the sensitive nub. Letting your juices drip all the way down his chin, his jaw, dangerously close to that cut on his neck. 
The hand sliding back and forth across the swollen outline of his cock had Suguru get more frenzied. Faster. Like it was his personal mission to make you cum on his tongue before he fucking passed out. 
Penetrating your gummy hole with both his fingers and his tongue, spreading it open more. And it’s all you can do to keen, “Oh- oh my god.” Riding Suguru’s pretty face harder. “Shit- m’close, Suguru.”
“Always right.” he gasps, swiping his tongue faster across your clit. “Always perfect” Alternating between squeezing back into your hole, your sweet spots. Stretching out your gummy walls as far as they’d go. “Always made f’me.” Assaulting it with both his fingers and his tongue. Again. And again and again and- “Jus’ wish I got to have you sooner.”
His words make you snap your eyes up from his mean mouth to meet his gaze, devouring you as greedily and depraved as his tongue. They make your thighs burn with the effort to drag your sloppy pussy faster.
They make you cum - shaking, crying out little mewls of “Ngh- fuck. M’cumming m’cumming m’cumming.”
The way your voice is breaking at the end of each moan has Suguru’s cock straining so painfully against his trousers. One hand firmly on your waist, arching you deeper to tongue you through your high in ways he’s only ever dared to imagine. 
Ways he’s selfishly hoped only he could - even after all these years, the sight of any other man looking at you wrong having his irritation flaring. 
“S’right.” his voice is sending stars bursting behind your lids, tongue even worse. Having you pleading and so sensitive. “I got you, my love. Give it t’me.” Messy - not as forgiving as he’d like to be. “Give it alllll to me.”
And you do - all but smothering Suguru’s eager tongue with all your sweet juices. Ones he’s lapping up happily, tilting his head back as far as it’d go on the floor, letting your heady slick fill up his throat. His pussydrunk lips let out a hiss, both at the burn of that cut on his neck, and the way you’re desperately pulling your hips back. 
Too overstimulated. Too fucking sensitive. Too much - but it would never be enough for Suguru. 
“Please, Suguru.” you sob at the way your limp hips are being pulled back by a needy Suguru. “M’too sensitive. I- fuck-” He’s only lapping at your quivering cunt leisurely, smirk prominent against your swollen folds. 
And it’s all you can do to deliriously slip a hand underneath his robes, a desperate attempt to keep whatever shred of sanity you have left. Fingers feeling down his unfairly toned abs, the tufts of hair at his pelvis, reaching-
“Oh fuck!” Your heavy eyes admire the way Suguru arches into your touch in surprise - like he couldn’t help himself. Eyes flying open, glossy, plump lips curling into a disbelieving grin, “Ya really are made f’me, huh?” 
That’s all it takes for Suguru to head to your lewd whims, bruising fingers on your hips finally loosening to let you sit your sloppy cunt back down on his lap - except, this time, you were seated directly on his rock-hard cock. Pussy lips spreading around his length to just soak him. 
“Oh, my love.” He sits up, splaying you out so prettily on his lap. “How I’ve missed you.”
You don’t even register the way you’re raising your head up to meet Suguru’s - not until he spits. Once. Twice. Straight onto your awaiting tongue that you didn’t even realize you were sticking out, saccharine sweet saliva making such a mess when he’s crashing his lips into yours. 
“Yeahh, like that. Kiss me like that.” he slurs against your mouth, drunk off both sets of your sweet lips. Getting out through wet, sloppy pecks. “How I wish I had you sooner.”
You can feel your heart thumping so wildly against your ribcage, matching the needy, needy staccato of Suguru’s cock throbbing between your puffy folds. And, well, you really can’t be blamed for the way you break the kiss to look down and oh-
Oh Suguru notices that furrow between your brows, kissing away the nervous little wobble in your lower lips as he grunts, “God, you’re killin’ me.” 
Fuck. Killing him?
You were the one sent in for the kill, but it seems you won’t be making it out here alive. 
Because Suguru was so big, girth rubbing up against your thighs. So angry and heavy, smearing hot precum over his abs, your cunt, adding to add to the absolute mess. Long enough that you knew you wouldn’t be able to walk out of here - which, honestly, Suguru would’ve preferred. To keep you with him forever. 
To have you always mewling so prettily when he’s dragging his fat head down your sensitive slit. To have his name - and only his name - leave your bruised lips when he’s asking, “Who’s got you this wet?” 
You’re so cockdrunk already that you’re groaning mindlessly, “You- Suguru-”
“No, that’s not what you call me.” 
And it takes you a few, long seconds to understand what he’s saying, all the while trying to focus with the leaky tip being pressed past your swollen folds. Slow. Torturous. Hitting you so violently at the same time he slips past that first, slutty ring of muscle. 
“Sugu!”
A blinding grin splits across Suguru’s absolutely fucked-out face, brows furrowing together in ecstasy. “That’s more hah- like it.” Not having heard that familiar little nickname - one of your many - fall from your lips since high school - one that makes a heart he forgot he had grow five sizes too large. “Now, just take me-” Hips bucking up, so strong and ruthless. “-like I know you can, okay?”
Over and over. 
You can’t let out anything but barely-lucid whines at this point, letting Suguru sink in inch by fucking inch. Your walls stretched out so perfectly to take his sheer size. But the stretch- oh, the stretch.
Fuck, it has you clawing at Suguru’s exposed shoulders, fingers leaving angry, red marks down the muscles. An obscene ah! ah! ah! leaving your lips with each time he reels his hips back, only to bully his aching cock inside until he physically couldn’t.
“Hngh- Sugu, s’too big-” You buck your hips down in shallow, tentative grinds to meet his filthy method of fitting in. “Too- much. Didn’t expect you to be so mean-”
“The sorcerer that hah- held a knife to the infamous Geto Suguru’s neck-” he groans, hands groping your ass to move you further down his massive cock. To watch the way your sloppy entrance was stretching out so much to suck him up. “-can take this too, right? I know you can.” He reaches a deft thumb around to toy with your pretty clit, making your cunt relax like the good girl she is. Fucking up deeper, just a bit more mean. “You- can-”
Several things happen at the tail end of Suguru’s sentence - he’s finally fitting in all in one go. With a calculated, harsh thrust up into your poor cunt, your ass is kissing his heavy balls, pussy rubbing against the hair at his hilt. So full and so much.
And Suguru knows he just might not see heaven - but shit, does he feel like he’s there right now. The feeling so good that both of you letting out mingling gasps of pleasure. 
Your back falling onto the now soiled mats like such animals, the other not far behind.
“You alright, my love?” Suguru hums against your throat when you’re managing to adjust somewhat to the stretch, aware enough to kiss the palm resting protectively underneath your head - making sure you don’t hurt yourself.
You bat your teary lashes, “Never been better, Sugu.”
And something about that makes him remember. 
Remember the way you’d tell him the exact same thing when you fought with curses too strong for you - coming back to the dorms all battered and bruised, but alive. Flashing him that addictive grin, and a crooked thumbs up, “Never been better, Sugu. Gold, actually.”
His golden girl.
Shaking away the tightness at his throat, Suguru instead focuses on wrapping your trembling legs around his toned waist. Tight.
“Sh-shit- you’re milkin’ me so good, fuck-”
Abs burning as he just drags his cock along your plushy walls, keeping your legs held wide open for him. So tight - like you were sucking the fucking soul out of him. Making sure to angle his hips in just the way that’ll have your eyes tearing at the way he was massaging all your sweet spots. 
And sure enough - “O-oh my god-” you breathe, and shit, it was so hard to speak. Suguru’s cock too big, too depraved. Speeding up with every ram of his hips into a steady, mean pace. “Jus’ like that, fuck-”
“Mhm?”
You paw at his free hand settled by the side of your neck, trailing it down, down, down - rings and all - to the part of your stomach you could feel his thick tip hitting. A slight bulge, abusing your cervix over and over, “Here-”
“-s’where I belong.”
Your brows raise at his interjection, and you swipe away the long locks of hair partially covering Suguru’s face, legs tightening around his hips as you take a long, hard look. He repeats, “S’where I belong. Where ngh- you belong.”
Like some deep, dark part of him was trying to fuck out any and every doubt about this out of you - as if you’d have any - Suguru’s rolling his hips harder into yours. All the way until it almost hurt - until the sting of his twitching balls against your ass felt permanent, fingerpads pressing down so hard on your stomach. 
Lips searing against yours, punctuating each word with a jagged, rough thrust. “Because you sh-shouldn’t be ah- here. You shouldn’t be-” He drags you deeper onto his dick like some ragdoll, fingers frenzying on your clit. “-with me.”
Words slurring and as sloppy as his hips now. 
“Wh-why fuck- why wouldn’t I be?”
“Heh, you forgot?” Suguru spits out a chuckle, pushing you further and further up the mat with how bruising his hips were hitting yours. Alternating between marking your cervix - your g-spot - your gummy walls. “Forgot how I told ya to live a better life than this?” Everything and anything. Hips smacking so loud, echoing in symphony with those melancholy words he parted with so long ago. “How I told you to hngh- find a-another? Live a long life? To be happy?”
Now that Suguru was talking, it was like he couldn’t stop. Like a damn had been broken - both with his words and his movements. The curve of his dick drives you wild, veins molding your cunt into their shape. 
Gritting his teeth to hold back the way his drenched balls squeeze so painfully, biting down on your lower lip. “You’re s-supposed to kill me.” A drop of sweat splashing down on your cheek, “To kill me and maybe you’ll be hah- fuck mine in another universe. But not this one.” It’s like he’s out of control now, “Never this one. You can have anybody else.”
And suddenly you’re having a flashback to just a week prior, to an uncharacteristically solemn Satoru telling you words you should’ve been happy to hear. Quiet, and unassuming. Ones you knew that had you heard them before knowing Suguru, you’d have jumped into his arms - exactly how he hoped you would, the day of his departure. 
Chuckling at you being such a “crybaby” about him leaving. After all, this was just meant to be, right?
But no.
Instead, you’re here. Bunching Suguru’s beautiful, glossy hair curtaining the sides of your head, into a ponytail. Difficult - with how he was getting faster. Harder. Just ravaging your hole until you were gaping and breathless.
And yet, arms trembling and limp, you still manage to reveal the boy you fell in love with - the one you could never forget. From the flush on his pretty face, to the twisted, sad curve of his mouth. And the eyes that bore into yours like they were searching for the same thing. Smiling, for the first time since you entered this place, “How could I ever want anyone else, Sugu?”
The hand on your stomach is cupping your adorable face so softly - and it’s hard to believe those hands have killed. Betrayed.
Like they were capable of doing anything but as Suguru swipes the single tear glistening down your cheek, “Still a crybaby, huh, my love?”
And then you cum - and Suguru isn’t too far behind. 
It’s just a flash of hot white, tingles running down your spine - all the way to the thick, creamy base soon forming around his wildly twitching cock. 
And it’s so good. Too good that all you can do it scream out his name, letting him do anything - and you were glad all he did was fuck you so mercilessly through your high. So violent. Addictive. 
Vision blurry, mouth sagging open for Suguru to press intimate little kisses along the corners of your mouth. Whispering sweet praises as your cunt sucks him up so good. So sinfully milking him for everything he’s worth. 
Taking in rope after rope of thick cum that warms your gummy walls from the inside, overfilling just enough for it to dribble down into the mat below in an obscene little pool. Smearing down your thighs, his balls. Heavenly. 
His heaven.
And in the haze of it all, Suguru imagines that you’ll reach for your knife again, press it back against the curve of his exposed neck. He imagines you’ll laugh in his face, tell him what a great whim this was but you had to get back to your job, turning your back on him as he has done before. He imagines.
But what he gets is your strained, fucked-out little voice, “I missed you, my golden boy.”
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A/N. Yes, That Line was inspired by HTTYD. If I had to be hurt, y’all do, too. 
Plagiarism not authorized.
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nighttimealone · 2 months ago
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Cw: Nsfw (141 x fem!reader, live together)
Beside you, Kyle is the first to wake up in the morning. He’ll pad towards the kitchen, enjoying the sight of you making your morning drink silently, before moving to stand right behind you, arms wrapped around your waist as he grinds he bulge lazily against your ass. He just wants to feel your warmth, how nice your soft flesh press against his cock.
“Just want to feel you, baby. It’s so cold out here.” He’ll unabashedly slip his hands under your pajamas shirt, kneading your breasts and tugging at those sensitive buds, forcing you to stop brewing your drink because you might spill the liquid.
Kyle just want to get an orgasm from you, a gift for you two morning birds, he claims before succumbing to sleepiness and tuck himself back under the duvet, fully content with being the first man making you come undone everyday, and sleeps in 5 more minutes.
You know Johnny will drag you into the shower with him whenever he comes back from his morning jog. You chide him before he engulfs you in his embrace, lightheartedly calling him a stinky man and shush him to go shower first.
So his solution is hug you despite your protest, then pull you inside the bathroom together, stripping off your pajamas and his sports wear impatiently before jumping into the shower with you.
“We’re both stinky now, jus’ thought ye might need a shower too.” Johnny grins when you glare at him, shamelessly pretends he’s just ‘looking out for ye’ while his hands traveling across your body, groping and preparing you for his cock with his hard dick prodding at the small of your back. He’ll never hurt you, but as soon as you’re wet enough for his girthy shaft, he’ll pick you up, stretching you deeply and completely with the help of your weight, groans and growls at how good you are, how your precious pussy takes him so good, ignoring Ghost’s noise complaint coming from the other side of the bathroom door as he fucks you fast and feral, making you unable to care about suppressing your moans and cling onto him, let him keep scooping you in his arms and thrust into you till he empty his balls in your good little cunt.
Finally getting Kyle and Johnny pass out from the alcohol, John and Simon manhandle them back to the bedroom before entering the living room again. 00:13, a glance at the clock telling you it’s late in the night, but it’s just the start for the three of you. Retrieving a bottle of fine rum, John seats you between him and Simon, thighs touching with theirs as you all sip on the wine and chat quietly. “The boys will chug the rum like it’s some cheap beer, they can settle with those just fine.” John chuckles lowly and comments on the awful taste and drinking habit of Kyle and Johnny.
“Those bonkers will stick to your side the whole day and complain if they find out, old man.” Simon chimes in after huffing out a laugh at John’s words.
You snicker along with them, feeling fully content and relaxed with squished between two of your lovers, joking about the other two men you loved while the rum flows smoothly down your throat. Soon your composure slips after few nips of the wine, whining cute and groggily as Simon ravish in the kiss with you, tongues dance and tangle with each other in a slow pace, let him drink down all your syrupy moans and coos in rare gentleness, so John can slickens up your pussy with his lips and your juices, making sure you can accommodate their fat cocks later, and you can’t expect or plead him to sink his cock into you already until him and Simon can see your juices dripping down your soaked folds, praying them to fill you up.
The two men will treat you so well, worshipping their dearest girl in the world. Simon’s fingers and lips are always on you when John squeeze his fat tip into your entrance, gliding in and out slowly and heavily, so all those spongy spots of yours that can make you chant his name like a mantra aren’t missed out. When he put a load in you with a husky groan, passing you onto Simon’s lap and let you lean back on his chest, he’ll plant tiny kisses on your shoulder, murmur about how they love you—will protect you and keep you safe and sound—against your skin. Simon allows him to indulge in the heat and tightness of your pussy, grunting and praising you as he fuck John’s cum back inside you, making sure you take each drops of John’s seeds, like the reliable lieutenant he always is for his captain. The base of his length has formed a creamy froth the time he nips down slightly on your shoulder to muffle his moan, drenching your messy cunt with every bit of his release. “Atta girl.” His croon is added with John’s soothing voice “Yeah, been so good for us, princess.”
They both pick up the glass once again to finish the remaining rum, with you already drifting between your slumber and consciousness, listening to their small chatters as your own lullaby. You don’t know when they’ll finish drinking, or if one of them will nestle their cock inside your pussy again, just to feel your walls clenching down subconsciously, but you let yourself slip into a dream, because they’ll take good care of you, always do and always will.
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yzzart · 5 months ago
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YOU'RE RULING THE WAY THAT I MOVE... ── KENJI SATO
── summary: Kenji was insatiable, they say.
── content warnings: F!reader, 18+, nsfw, fiance!kenji, oral (f!receiving), finger marks, petnames, dirty talk, explicit words, explicit content.
── word count: 1.206!
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Oh, Kenji Sato was, unconditionally, insatiable. — Perhaps, mentioned in countless reports and comments and rumors from journalists, a little voracious and avid. — Making it clear that he looked for satisfaction around him, wanting to end this thirst on the court.
Being one of the biggest, and best, baseball stars, he had the reason, and right, to cause this. — Everyone could agree, right?
But this feeling remained in his chest, covertly, off the court; of course, trying not to show it in the public eye. — There was a mixture of need and lack that only Sato could admit; poorly, dramatic.
Kenji felt hungry, needing to be close to you, causing any physical contact, wanting to enjoy every inch of your body; aspiring to press it around you. — He wants to feel, touch and delight you. — And that drove the young boy crazy.
At the same time that you drove him crazy, leaving Sato thirsty, greedy for your smell or just seeing your gaze against his, you also directed him to the light; being a guide on your troubled path. —Kenji was grateful, and, gods, as he was. — The possibly true meaning of walking through heaven and hell in one walk.
He was trapped, connected to you; always keeping, like a magnet, his strong, long arms around your waist, pressing himself against you or fitting his face into the crook of your neck, nudging his nose into the back of your neck. — Sometimes, his teeth run through your skin, a sensitive spot, marking the area and then kissing it; conveying a loving and ironic action when saying “sorry, my love”.
Also, Kenji remained, pleasantly, surrounded between your thighs and holding them, with such precision and rigidity, leaving, in the future, marks of his long fingers; unable to avoid the possessiveness that coursed through his veins. — Delighting, relishing in the taste of your pussy; keeping him even more addicted to you, being certified as a starving animal.
That mouth, so bold and sharp, that responded and argued everything that came to mind, in fact, was smeared with taste and pleasure; sucking, kissing your folds, incredibly wet and mixed with his saliva, in an unruly way. — Attacking your sensitive and pulsating clitoris, his tongue surrounding it with slow circles and tracing lines across the region. — Rarely threatening contact with his teeth.
The damned man knew how to torture you and thought it was funny, he had, unquestionably, a talent for it.
“Ken, holy shit…!” — The environment, unstable, dark and poorly lit by the small bands of light that came from the huge windows, covered by curtains, was filled with the moans and whimpers that came out of your beautiful, dirty mouth. — “Ngh!” — You choked, trying to breathe.
Kenji would like, would love, to live with his face between your thighs; he could forget about baseball, save the city from monsters, everything. — Everything to devour you.
“My little princess with that mouth…” — A pop, made by his mouth, when sucking one of your folds was exclaimed. — “…so dirty.” — Pretends false hurt along with a pout, quickly licks his lips. — "So good…"
Raising his shiny orbs of desire and lasciviousness, Kenji witnessed, or rather, enjoyed your dazed image, hazy of the purest pleasure you received, feeling in a cloud of delight. — The large t-shirt, which belonged to your fiencé, lifted up to your collarbone, showing off your perky breasts and your messy hair spread across the pillow. — A magnificent work of art, somewhat angelic, apollonian.
Your little face manifested the lost between lust and excitement, being a sight for Sato's eyes. — You looked wonderful, as always.
“You know, hmm…” — The heat of his tongue returned, moving, slowly, to your entrance, tasting, ambitious; Sato's name was begged, almost inaudible, landing in his ears. — “I would spend hours eating that pussy.” — He had already confessed to that filthy curse so many times, but that's not a complaint. — “Oh, but, you know, don’t you?” — He growled.
“Hm, hm…” — This was an attempt to state what I had heard. — “Ken, please…” — You didn’t know what, in fact, you were begging, you didn’t care about blurting out disconnected words and things; the older one raised his eyebrows, mocking you.
“Fuck, baby.” — Kenji exclaims, almost breathless, closing his eyes and tracing a line with his tongue to the small, quivering dot, focusing on it; impatiently, wanting to enjoy your orgasm. — "I know, i know." — He babbled, clicking his tongue and increasing the speed of his licks; distributing a messy, clumsy, obscene kiss to your pussy.
A scream, thin and tearful, with a melodic tone, and considered music for the player, broke free from your mouth. — Being caught off guard during the change of promptness. — Without delay, one of your hands fell on Sato's black hair, pulling it sharply. — And you swear you felt a dirty smile, then a giggle, which sent a wave of shock through you.
When you felt a hot, scorching sensation of pleasure and voluptuousness boiling in your stomach, accompanied by the impression of numbness dominating your extremely sensitive little spot, you knew you were close. — Kenji too. — Your chest burned, rose and fell, trying to regulate or catch a breath, and your back arched; whining, immorally, even more so for Ken.
Holding your thighs, feeling a mediocre courage in trying to close them, which were increasingly trembling, Kenji's hands slowly caressed them; wanting to reassure you. — The coldness of his engagement ring ran across your skin, giving you goose bumps. — From the movement made in his mouth, Ken had said something, but, covered with exultation, you was unable to understand; probably words of encouragement.
"Oh, Ken, Kenji...!" — You screamed, frantically, while miserably moving your hips against Kenji's mouth, warning him; even if there is no such need. — Understanding what was going on, a growl came out of the older man's mouth, maintaining his rhythm. — “I’m close, Ken…” — You cried, feeling tears invading your eyes.
Suddenly digging your nails into Sato's scalp, as tears, witnesses of desire, fall from your eyes, you cum in Kenji's mouth; deliciously releasing all your pleasure. — Your head resting on the pillow, your chest rising and falling under pure exhaustion. — Therefore, you continues to be devoured by your lover.
Kenji, by gently opening your thighs a little, gets drunk on your orgasm; persistently tasting, tasting and eating your pussy. — Now, unshakable and extremely high level of sensitivity. — The tongue cleaning, searching and not leaving any drop of your cum with his greed and thirst to be quenched.
You were being adored, worshiped —even ecstatically— and you appreciated it. — Sato never tired of making you feel this way.
“Please,” — As he start to pull away, Kenji lifts his head, to get a clear view of you, and the glow on his chin and mouth, caused by your cum and his saliva, sends butterflies to your stomach. . — "you're so perfect." — He murmured, stunned and swallowed dryly. — “I wanted to stay buried in your thighs, like, forever.”
Your hand, which was still between his locks, immediately messed them up; mercilessly finding his change in personality ridiculous. — Addressing a low "i love you” to him.
“Me too, love” — He took a deep breath. — “But, i’m serious.”
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whorelaud · 23 days ago
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꒦꒷ 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 bad habit ¡
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pairing nicholas chavez x fem¡reader
summary Nicholas grows a habit of biting you, using every given chance to do it. It starts off platonically, the action playful and teasing, until things eventually took a not so platonic turn, leading to a heated moment between the two of you.
contains nsfw content ! making out, biting, hickeys, and uhh interruptions.
a/n heavily inspired by bad habit!!! likes and reblogs are v much appreciated 🫶
word count 2.2k
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It started off on set, when you accidentally made a mistake while filming. You chuckled, apologizing to the director, unaware of the man hovering behind you.
Nicholas’ teeth grazed over your shoulder, the sensation like feathers on your skin. The gesture was so subtle, yet so there, sending shivers down your spine. His breath fanned over your exposed flesh, almost as if he was searching for a reaction out of you.
You brushed it off, thinking Nicholas was being playful; did it for the sake of laughs and giggles, but oh boy, were you wrong. After the incident, it only got worse, with him biting you every chance he gets.
Whether it was your arm, legs, neck, shoulders, stomach, everything he laid his touch on, it was getting marked.
He wasn't afraid to do it, growing amused to the flustered reaction he always got in return. You were guilty for taking an odd liking into it, turning into a mess under his touch whenever he’d bite you.
You didn't dare put an end to it, enjoying it as much as he did. It sparked butterflies in your stomach, mind going blank with every slight touch from him.
Sometimes he would linger, merely to see if it gets a reaction out of you, while other times, it was a passing through, type of thing. Everyone on set knew that by now, smiling and nodding whenever Nicholas did it.
It didn't hurt, in fact, it felt good. The reactions you gave were a mere cover up of your attraction towards it. You felt weak for the ones where he’d kiss the spot afterwards, rubbing a comforting thumb to your skin.
You never knew when to expect it. At times, it would be while you guys were filming, he’d do it because he was embarrassed for messing up his line. While sometimes, it would be in private, when it’s only the two of you.
However, it was strictly platonic. Nicholas made himself clear; sure, he’d flirt with you every now and then, but that was only to mess with you, knowing how easily flustered you were.
That swiftly took a turn, though.
You were currently in Nicholas’ van, practicing your lines for the next scene. The boy made himself comfortable on the couch, admiring as you walked back and forth.
Nick’s giggles erupted through your ears, causing you to perk up. You glimpsed over in his direction, puzzlement washing over your face.
“What?” You questioned, inching closer to the brunet.
“Nothing.” He shook his head, glancing up at you now that you were towering over him.
“Oh.” Your lips formed into a pout, grumbling before returning your attention back to the script. “Okay.”
You moved away, yelping when you got yanked back to your position, impossibly closer now. Your gaze shifted to Nicholas’ arms, observing as he sneaked them around your waist, embracing you in a hug.
“What’s gotten into you?” You snickered, feeling his breath fan over the sliver of skin around your stomach.
“You’re so warm.” He whispered, one of his hands trailing down to your hip.
You tensed, sensing a change in his tone. It was extremely rare for Nicholas to get this clingy, unless he was tired. From what you’ve seen thus far, that was totally not the case.
Nicholas nuzzled into your stomach, a satisfied hum escaping his throat. You snorted, reading over your lines while you let him do his thing.
His fingers toyed with the hem of your top, causing you to freeze in your spot. That was… new. You don't recall him ever doing that, not even when you’re both messing around.
“Is everything okay?” You asked, tucking your hair behind your ear.
He stuck to humming, letting his fingers trail further underneath your shirt. You almost gasped at the sensation, lips parting to exhale instead. The script in your hand was long forgotten now, as you tossed it on the couch next to Nicholas.
“Nick.” You whispered, hesitating before your hands found their way around his shoulder.
“You know…” he trailed off, voice barely above a whisper. He tilted his head back, merely to catch sight of you. “You’re really pretty.”
“Thank you.” You replied, teasing visible in your voice. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
“Yeah?” He smirked, his nails digging into your side.
You audibly gasped at the action, the idea of your hips bruising due to Nicholas’ touch driving you over the edge. One of your hands trailed to the back of his neck, the tip of your fingers toying with his hair.
He inched his face closer to your stomach, all that while maintaining eye contact with you. He mouthed at your skin, touch lingering as he waited for a reaction out of you.
Your lips parted with pleasure, jolting when you felt his teeth grazing over your stomach, biting you before you knew it.
There it was, the tingling sensation it striked through your body. You shuddered under his touch, feeling your knees grow weak. A moan escaped your throat when he repeated the action, accidentally tugging his hair in the process.
Nick groaned in response, eyes forcing shut at the sensation. Pleasure fell upon his face, squeezing anything he could lay his hands on.
“So beautiful,” he whispered, littering kisses to your stomach. “Has anyone ever told you how breathtaking you are?”
You moaned at the statement, arching your back into the touch. Nick’s hand trailed down to your ass, giving it a squeeze through the fabric of your shorts.
You forced your eyes shut at the action, unable to control the moan escaping your throat. You were a flustered mess under his touch, wincing whenever he nibbled too hard on your skin.
The thought of getting marked by Nicholas drove you mental, it has your mind hazing up, leaving you wanting more.
“I–” you stammed, hushed words filling the air. “What about filmin’?”
“We have time.” He muttered, pulling you down by your sides.
Your body collided with Nick’s as you fell into his lap. He adjusted your position, making sure you were comfortable in the process. Nicholas groaned in your ear, throwing his head back when you accidently brushed over his crotch.
Your face heated, feeling his hardon through the thin fabric of clothes. You awkwardly hovered over his lap, unaware of your next move.
Fuck, Nicholas was hard, and it was because of you. Your mind went fuzzy all over, head filling with a million questions, yet none at the same time.
Nicholas pushed you down, not hesitating to collide your lips in a kiss. He captured your bottom lip between his teeth, the action seeping tension through the air.
He leisurely pulled back, pulling at your lip with his teeth, nibbling on it before he moved away. Your mouth remained parted, letting your forehead rest against his.
“You know how long I’ve been wanting to do that?” He whispered, stealing a kiss from the corner of your lips. “Fuck, you're so…”
You couldn't control your hips as you grinded down, a hiss erupting through your ears in the process. You felt Nicholas twitch through his pants, the gesture a great impact on him.
He looked out of it. His eyes hazed up, barely able to hold contact with yours as he fluttered them shut.
“You’re so fucking pretty, doll.” He praised, voice muffled as he peppered kisses along your jaw. “I'm obsessed with you, everythin’ about you drives me mental.”
“Nick.” You said through a breath, voice slightly shaky.
An audible gasp escaped your throat as he slipped a hand underneath your shirt, fingers instantly finding your chest. He gave your boob a squeeze, while he traced open mouthed kisses to the other one through the fabric of your shirt.
You leaned your head back, grinding down as a whine muffled its way out of your mouth. Nick was incredible with his mouth, he knew exactly how to please a woman, and how to make her feral in all the right places.
You felt heat release from your body, the room growing hot with every move you committed to. This was all you’ve ever wanted. You wanted to get a taste of Nicholas so bad, so fucking bad it was starting to get a bit concerning.
And with the whole biting thing? Yeah, that was your last straw.
You yelped when his teeth grazed over your nipple, the action causing goosebumps to breakout across your chest. You attempted to pull away from the touch, quickly interrupted by the hand on your back as it brought you closer, if that was even possible.
The distance between you guys was extinct now, the only thing blocking you being the thin layers of clothes.
“I need you…” Nick groaned, nipping at your skin.
He buried his face in your neck, his heavy breaths the only thing seeping through the silent void. His tone was so suggestive, needy, keen and in need of you. How’s one able to resist when someone as desperate as Nicholas exists?
“I’m all yours.” You licked your lips, cupping Nicholas’ face.
You withdrew his face from your neck, breath hitching when you caught sight of how much of a mess he was. In fact, he might’ve been more affected than you were.
You connected your lips in another kiss, tilting your head to get a better angle of his mouth. A satisfied hum erupted through your ears, causing you to smile through the kiss.
Nicholas toyed with the strap of your top, pushing it down your arm, followed with the other one eventually after. The action peaked interest through your chest, causing you to pull back with amusement.
“Here?”
“Mhm.” He hummed, “I’ll be quick.”
He nipped and sucked at your neck, finger tugging down your top, exposing your chest to the air. You shivered, hissing when Nicholas grazed his teeth over the flesh, trailing his mouth all the way down to your breasts.
His mouth salivated at the sight, pausing to admire how perfect your boobs were. His gaze shifted back to you, as you stared at him with a shy smile across your lips.
“I didn't think you could get any perfect.” He pecked your mouth, a smirk forming on his lips.
“You’ve seen nothing.” You teased, wrapping your arms around his neck.
You applied pressure around the back of his head, pushing him down on your chest. Nicholas accepted with content, gliding his tongue over your now hard nipple.
You nipped at his hair, arching into the touch. It felt amazing, hot spit coating your cold skin. It was absolutely heavenly, no words could describe it.
He kneaded your other boob with his hand, the sensation spiraling you over the edge.
He traced open mouth kisses to your collarbones, sucking on the bony flesh around your shoulder.
“Nick…” you muttered through a gasp, “That will leave a mark.”
“Good.” He exhaled through his mouth, tone cocky. “Let everyone know you’re mine.”
“My god.” You mumbled, voice barely audible.
You pushed him back on the couch, already missing the warmth of his tongue on your body. He chased after your touch, earning a chuckle out of you as your hand covered his mouth.
“Stay.” You ordered, voice seductive.
You teasingly toyed with the hem of your shirt, leisurely tucking it up to reveal the whole of your stomach. The fabric pooled just beneath your chest, creating a thick material.
However, that was long forgotten as you tugged it over your head, getting it off your body. And Nicholas couldn't help but groan as he moved forward, laying his touch wherever his hands landed.
Your fingers found their way around his shirt, delicately unbuttoning it until it revealed his whole chest. Your mouth watered at the sight, removing the shirt with a bit of help from the boy.
Your digits traced over the lines of his abs, gulping when you noticed how muscular he was beneath all the clothes he wore. His eyes followed your hand as it came to a halt around his pants, fingers teasingly fidgeting with the button.
“Get it off of me already.” He hissed, thrusting up into you.
The collision made you gasp, his hardon brushing against your ass. Your fingers dug into his skin, grinding down on him to chase after your pleasure.
“Fucking hell.” He cursed under his breath, mouth gaping with desire.
You clumsily unbuttoned his pants, freezing in your spot when you heard a knock on the door. Your eyes widened in shock, attention shifting back to Nicholas, who was just as shocked as you were.
The crew member called out your name, causing you to perk up. “You’re up in five minutes, make sure you’re ready.”
Right, you guys were on set.
You were swift to get up, throwing your shirt over your head. You stole a glimpse at Nicholas, who hopelessly stared at you, disappointment visible on his face.
You smiled, endeared by how sulky he was, as he looked adorable while doing it. You moved over, ruffling your hair into place before you connected your lips with his.
Although he was upset, he happily returned the gesture, chasing after your lips when you moved away.
“Sorry about that.” Your gaze shifted down to his lap, noticing the hardon in his pants. “I’ll help you out later.”
“Yeah?” He smirked, no longer sulky. “I’ll look forward to that.”
“Mhm, you definitely should.”
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fallingskiesandrisingseas · 2 months ago
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But what was most baffling to all that met the Pevensies after they came back was that they were kind.
Really. Not pretending, not because they were insecure. True, empathic. Far too understanding for children their age. They all have music in them.
Peter’s hands feel too small for him, but he shakes hands all the same. Gentle pressure. There is nobility behind those eyes. Eyes that always border on the supernatural sort of blue, especially in the dark.
He plays the guitar, gently coaxing otherworldly sounds out of an instrument that did not know it could be played like that. He helps his siblings with their homework, is taller much faster than his peers. Seems to take up more space, even though no one understands how a teenage boy manages that.
He doesn’t like doing nothing, ever. He instructs his classmates in grammar, gives away figures he cuts from wood with a knife that seems too sharp for a boy that small. He never hurts himself, though.
As the years pass, Peter grows strong. But he is gentle. He does not seem to be brash, even when many of his friends are. Peter keeps his emotions in check. Noble. Not undangerous, but not belligerent. Peter only ends fights, and only with people that deserve it.
He offers advice, a pat on the back. Teachers wanna dislike him, some do not like the look behind those eyes. Most find they cannot. Peter is popular with both adults and children, speaks sense and laughs often.
Peter is kind. Pious, devout. His faith is unmovable like rock. Did the kids meet God on the estate of their uncle?
Edmund plays the violin. A sad Edmund is a rare sight, but when he plays sad he can keep his whole floor awake. Somehow, Peter always finds h him quickly, effortlessly attuned to his brother’s moods. They play chess, then. Their chess master must have been a champion, Ed beats people with ease. He’s usually not smug about it.
Ed speaks politics and war in earnest, accepts critique graciously, is elegant in a way Peter never manages. Peter speaks frankly, but Edmund can wrap words up real nice. He doesn’t mince words, but his classmates grow into liking the sound of his voice. They appreciate that Edmund does not lie, even when speaking tactfully. Edmund can dial the temperature in a room, change it to suit himself.
He, too, laughs often, but Edmund is known to smirk. He likes being right and he often is. He’ll entertain anyone with a good story, always seems to have the right information to help you out. Remedies to illness, connections, job openings, how to sneak out of PE.
He’s a spider in a web. A bit reserved for a 11 year old, and oddly well-connected. A real ghost when he wants to be, but he never scares people with it.
Aslan would not approve of that. He believes in God as well, but much more intellectually. He’s got the intelligence to back it up and wit to match. A scholarly belief, but not lacking conviction.
Teachers like his enthousiasm, remember a moody nagging child when he left and see a secure young man come back.
Edmund will stand up for what is right. He gets into some trouble like that, but his verbal agility saves him always. Edmund has strong principles and will not bend them for anyone. No matter the trouble he gets in.
The bond with his brother is unbreakable. They even walk the same, chest out, left hand on their belt. They seem most at ease when fencing.
Susan was always warm and tenderhearted, but when she comes back there is a difference.
She seems to have gained authority. It’s real strange watching a 13-year old use her beauty like a grown woman, but Susan has learned to wield it, to stun people so she can creep under their skin. People LISTEN to her now.
Her wit is like a knife, but she avoids cutting deep. Susan is reasonable, and strong, and principled. The little drama others get involved in does not bother her, and she seems immune to petty insults. She has killed before, with her hands.
She will do it with kindness now. She is not very approachable ( that would be Lucy ), but she is kind. She used to mother over her brothers and sisters, but now that they have raised each other in a court full of magic she has gotten more relaxed. They listen to her on important issues, trust in her judgement. Her brothers does not deem himself more important, she is both well-spoken and well-respected by her siblings. Equal. It baffles the old men that teach her. Irritates them, too.
There is an air of mystery around her. Half a look is enough to get what she wants, Susan’s friends laud her security in herself, her Mona Lisa smile. She seems to temper moods easily, makes people feel at ease.
She most of everyone exudes royalty. It’s the grace. Susan plays the harp, her long fingers dancing across the strings like she’s had a lifetime of practice. She’s elegant, never caught off guard. Jamais faux pas.
She does not get angry. She knows who she will be. She is anxious to become an adult, yes, but she only wishes to look how she feels. Not to look differently. Yet the wish to be taken seriously, to have someone see you as an adult, it makes her surprisingly similar to her peers.
Her friends have not been old yet, is all. But Susan is calm and collected. People see her as someone you can tell a secret to. She never hurts someone, is usually a neutral party, speaks sense to adult and kids alike. She is not ignorant, however, will use every trick in the book to keep the peace. She knows when to go nuclear. Vis pacem para bellum.
Lucy is a sun in human form. She has a joie de vivre that is unmatched, is gay and golden-haired and never in a bad mood.
Lucy is kind by default, does not turn it off, does not turn it down. She’s witty and funny and quick on her feet. She has been grown before, yes, but enjoys being young for a few years more. She dances, sings old tunes. Her voice is her favorite instrument, you can usually hear Lucy coming.
Whistling a tune in the halls is known to improve the moods of everyone who hears it immensely. Young girls need to figure out who they are, but Lucy knows, knows what she’ll be and who she likes and what kind of people she wants to be around. She is not pretending, never moody. She can get sad, of course, but her older brothers and sisters are always nearby when that happens.
Lucy is genuine and fierce and convinced, immovable at times. Admired for her drive, but respected for her empathy. She speaks to everyone, often distributes flowers. There’s no naivite in her at all, she simply wishes to be like this so that the world may imitate her. She likes to see people prosper, is the first with praise.
She will go far, is the consensus. There’s steel beneath the soft exterior, Lucy has fire below the flowers. She’s well-liked and well-loved. She has love in spades, it seems, animals and stragglers and misfits and outcasts. She’s popular, her room is a good place to get a cup of tea and someone who will listen to you for some time. After a while she no longer bothers with the door.
That a heart that size fits in a girl that small is a mystery to many. Lucy does not think it is a mystery at all. It is the heart of a lion.
Her faith is as vocal as the rest of her, she sees it confirmed in all that is beautiful, all that is kind. She never tries to convert anyone but there are several people who have told her that version of God is someone they would like to know.
The Pevensies often see each other at parties, where they like to stand together. Edmund knows about everyone, everyone knows Peter, everyone likes Susan, but it is Lucy who knows everyone.
They are kind, but not weak. Peter gets his knuckles bloody sometimes, Edmund does not abide by the rules of unjust teachers. Susan and Lucy solve their problems differently but no less effective. Kindness is their usual way of operating, but they are still kings and queens. They will not allow cruelty, will not let bullies go unpunished.
They are sure of what they are and sure of what comes after death and this makes them kind. Kind , not harmless. Kind, not spineless. Kind, not ignorant. Kind, not naive.
Kind despite. Maybe kind because. The kings and queens of Narnia are proud of what they are, honour the teachings of their lion friend. Kind.
When the crash happens and three siblings die, everyone they know mourns deeply. Without them, the world is less kind.
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melzula · 9 months ago
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Can you please write jealous Zuko? It can be however you like😊
a/n: i love jealous zuko! however this ended up being more angsty than i intended😭 hope you enjoy!
summary: a party at the palace leads to a deep revelation for zuko
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He was miserable.
The palace didn’t throw parties very often these days, but the recent conquering of another Earth colony was deemed a call for celebration, and so all of the noble families in the Capital City were invited to attend. A grand feast was held and praises were showered upon Ozai throughout the night. It was one of the rare times Zuko didn’t have to worry about his father’s wrath, and so he should have been enjoying himself.
But he couldn’t, not when he could see that across the way another boy was flirting with you right in front of him.
You were Zuko’s everything- his childhood best friend that he’d always held harbored feelings for. During his banishment he thought of you constantly, and upon his arrival he immediately asked you to be his girlfriend. You were sweet and friendly, easily approachable and always able to cheer him up despite his moodiness, you were perfect. And apparently this other boy could see this too.
You smile out of politeness and nod along to the boy’s rambling story about his fire bending skills and high IQ, not very interested in listening but too nice to brush him off. It infuriates Zuko to see someone else take advantage of your kindness, and he’s unable to just sit back and watch any longer.
A harsh hand lands upon the boy’s shoulder, startling both of you in the process. Zuko’s eyes are blazing with fury, his palm scorching the fabric of the boy’s robes and scaring the spirits out of him in the process.
“Can’t you take a hint? She doesn’t want to talk to you!” the Prince bellow angrily, prompting a few guests nearby to turn their heads curiously towards the commotion. A bit embarrassed at the sudden attention, you gently pull Zuko’s hand away and drag him out to the gardens before he can escalate the situation any further. The last thing you need is for him to cause a scene at his father’s party.
“What?” Zuko says defensively as you wordlessly walk through the palace hallways. “I was helping you!”
“You were acting jealous again,” you chide gently.
“No I wasn’t!” He argues defensively only to shrink under your pointed gaze. “…I was.”
“I love you, Zuko, but I don’t love how jealous you can get sometimes. I’m your girlfriend, don’t you trust me?”
“Of course I do!” He interjects quickly, almost offended at the notion.
“Then what is it? Why do you act this way?”
Zuko is silent, his eyes casted sullenly to the floor as you patiently wait for his answer. You take his hands in your own and give them a reassuring squeeze to let him know you’re there for him, and the act seems to coax him out of his stupor.
“I’m afraid you’ll change your mind about being with me, and once the right guy comes along you’ll realize you’re better off without me,” he admits quietly, almost ashamed to voice the thought out loud.
“Zuko…” you utter sadly, heartbroken at the fact that he could even believe such a thing.
“Why do you want to be with a boy who’s been exiled from his own country before? Whose own father burned his face? Who’s so messed up in every way possible?”
Gently carefully cupping his face in your hands, you tilt his head upward to meet your sincere gaze. His eyes are glossy with tears he refuses to let fall, and your heart aches for the poor boy before you. You wish you could take away all of his hurt in agony, but you can’t, so you do your best to take away his insecurity instead.
“I wish you could yourself the way I see you,” you tell him lovingly. “You are more than enough for me, more than I could ever ask for. You’re strong, you’re brave, you’re smart. You’re you. I love you, Zuko. No one’s ever going to get into the way of that.”
He says nothing in response but simply yanks you into his arms for the tightest hug you’ve ever possibly received. You know he isn’t the best at words or emotions, but his embrace conveys that he is grateful for every word to come out of your mouth.
He knows he may be jealous at times, but he also knows that he doesn’t have to be anymore.
Because you’re not going anywhere.
| atla tags: @sirkekselord @niktwazny303
| zuko tags: @thebluelcdy @royahllty @the-firebender-girl @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @knaite-solo @taeeemin
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endofthelinepal107 · 3 months ago
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baby daddy toji drabbles
★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★
baby daddy toji who didn't react well when you told him you were pregnant. you were expecting it, so it didn't hurt as much as it could have, but it was still a punch in the gut. most of your relationship had been more just messing around, so you knew what kind of guy toji was. you just hadn't anticipated the cool look on his face when he listened to your news and then made a small, hurtful correction. 'nah, you're having a baby, not us.'
baby daddy toji who you expected nothing from. you told him firmly that you were keeping the baby, and that you were only telling him as a courtesy. after that, you expected nothing: no money, no co-parenting, no contact, nothing. you didn't want it, not from him. you could do it better on your own.
baby daddy toji who went without seeing his son for five whole years. he missed the birth of his one and only child, missed out on seeing the adorable baby and toddler stages. but, when he was five, megumi asked to meet his father. you had never lied to your son about who his father was, and so when he asked that question, you couldn't find it in yourself to deny him.
baby daddy toji who was predictably hard to track down. once you eventually managed to get into contact with shiu kong, you found out that toji was in prison, and had been for the majority of megumi's life. you told megumi and asked him if he still wanted to meet his father. when he said yes, you steeled yourself and organised a visit.
baby daddy toji who hadn't expected to feel so stricken when he saw you and megumi. he stared at his son, the little boy that was so undeniable his kid: unruly black hair, flat expression, paler skin than you had. he stared at you, holding his son on your lap, looking so much stronger and mature than when he'd said those cruel words and left you to it.
baby daddy toji who swallowed his pride to rasp two questions into the phone: what's the kid's name, and can i see you both again? he ignored the fact that your expression didn't change on the other side of the glass, and just appreciated that you replied: his name is megumi, and i can request another visit if you want to see him again.
baby daddy toji who thought about you and megumi for the weeks that it took before you were back in the visiting room. it had taken seeing the two of you right there in front of him to realise just what he'd fumbled. now he knew, he felt like a fucking idiot. he just hoped he could find a way to be a part of at least megumi's life, if not yours.
baby daddy toji who was patient and attentive enough with your son that you slowly believed that he was telling the truth about wanting to try again. megumi didn't trust him yet, but your son was always slow to warm up to people. he didn't dislike his father, and that was a good sign.
baby daddy toji who mustered up the courage after a few months of visits to ask you if he could meet up with you and megumi outside of the visiting room of the prison, while he was allowed out on parole. he watched your face with his usual blank expression, but his green eyes were shining with hidden anxiety. when you looked to megumi and the little boy nodded, toji let out a soft breath of relief.
baby daddy toji who deliberated where he would take you both for a long time. when the day came around, he picked the fairground. and, for a day, it was almost like you were a normal family. toji won prizes for megumi, went on rides with him, carried him when the kid got tired. and he didn't shy away from your watchful gaze, letting you read his intentions clear on his face.
baby daddy toji who couldn't hide his disappointment when his parole officer turned up and he had to go back to the prison. he looked so crestfallen that megumi looked up at you. toji was confused until you leaned forward with your son in your arms, your lips brushing one cheek while megumi pecked the other. toji blinked at both of you. then he cracked a rare smile. he ruffled megumi's hair, then pulled you back and kissed you on the mouth. it was a brief kiss, a cheeky one that he knew he didn't fully deserve. but, as he sat down in the car and saw you and megumi waving him off, toji resolved to be deserving of it eventually.
baby daddy toji who was a fucking idiot, but he tries to be better for you, and for his baby boy.
★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★
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i2sunric · 3 months ago
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𝐃𝐈𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐄 (l.hs)
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PAIRING: toxic!heeseung x reader
SUMMARY: after confronting your boyfriend with his neverending addictions, worried that he might just ruin himself, you two end up in yet another fight. it wasn’t new that the best way of resolving it was fucking you in his car, was it?
WARNINGS: toxic relationship. based on the newest single by chase atlantic ‘die for me’, fighting, alcohol consumption, mentions of weed and drugs in general (+ ecstasy tabs), unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy!!), rough sex, degrading kink, car sex, doggystyle, he gives reader a finger in asshole (literally), spit kink (?), why is this slightly angst (if u squint ig), riding, creampie, pet names (angel, baby, good girl, slut), manhandling, meandom!heeseung, kinda cnc (but i’m not sure), humping, overstimulation, lmk if more. NOT PROOFREAD.
PUBLISHED: 25th August 2024
WC: 4.7k
TAGLIST: (permanent) @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @jwnghyuns @bangtancultsposts @shawnyle @jooniesbears-blog @skzenhalove @ro-diaries @onlyhyunjin @xcosmi @strawberrhypen @heeheeswifey @destinyhoon @jakeflvrz @emisloves @astratlantis @tunafishyfishylike (oneshot) @dollyrst @mitmit01 @heeseungsbm @rayofsunshineeee @seungjiseyo @simja3 @sweetlyxaqq09 @cloud-lyy BOLDS COULD NOT BE TAGGED.
NOW PLAYING: ‘DIE FOR ME’ by Chase Atlantic — ‘on your knees’ by ex habit — ‘Sinners’ by Ari Abdul ft. Thomas Larosa
a/n: please REBLOG & COMMENT and not only like since i’ve been shadowbanned nowadays. i highly recommend listening to the songs i previously listed while reading for a better experience 🫶 take care!!
With your heart in your throat and your whole body freezing due to autumn’s weather, you hurried towards Jay’s house, which was fortunately a few blocks away from yours.
You had gotten yet another call from the poor guy, asking you to come and fetch your boyfriend, who was apparently making a fuss.
It wasn’t rare, but it had gotten more frequent for him to go batshit at parties.
And it was your job to clean after his mess.
The music that came inside was so loud it only added to the headache you already had.
Taking a deep breath, you pushed the door open and found Jay waiting for you, biting his nails.
“Thank God you’re here.” He breathed out, quickly turning around “He’s gone mad, I swear.”
You had to just round the corner to the living room and there stood Heeseung, taking a guy by the collar, his fit raised in the air.
“Heeseung!” You shouted, but he was so deep in his own mind he couldn’t hear you.
“What the fuck did call me?” Heeseung growled, his mouth straight into a grimace.
The boy’s eyes were wide, as if he understood he had just poked the bear and couldn’t step back anymore “I’m sorry man, ok? I was just joking.”
Heeseung scoffed, “Oh, and I am joking too.” He raised his fist higher and was about to strike, but you stepped in and held his arm.
“Heeseung.” You hissed, lower this time, a whisper only meant for him.
He turned to you with an annoyed expression until his eyes took in the sight of you, recognising you.
Safe. He knew you, so he slowly lowered his arm.
“Let go.” You said, beckoning to the guy’s collar. Heeseung gave him another dangerous gaze before pushing him away.
He fell, but at least he didn’t have a broken nose.
Heeseung turned around and placed his hand on your waist “Did I hurt you?” He asked and by his bloodshot eyes and how you could barely see any white in them, you knew he was far gone.
You shook your head, “I just arrived.” Heeseung took in the sight of your baggy and cozy clothes.
Obviously, you had hurried there as soon as Jay made the call, not even bothering changing.
All the people in the living room were watching the two of you with both curious and wary expressions, “Let’s get in the car.” You said, Heeseung wasn’t their circus.
Mouthing a quick ‘sorry’ to the guy who almost had an encounter with his fist, you dragged your boyfriend out of the house.
Jay gave you a sympathetic nod before closing the house behind you, blocking out the deafening music.
Heeseung grabbed your hand and walked to the parking lot, opening the car door and shoving you in the passenger seat before rounding it and entering the vehicle as well.
The walk and fresh air should’ve sobered him up, at least just a little. You hoped.
As soon as he sat beside you, a scoff left your lips “Seriously, Heeseung?” You asked, “It’s the third time this week and it’s barely Thursday!”
He let out a low sigh, and reached out to caress your cheek. He had a sheepish look, and he was staring at you guiltily, though, you were sure he doubtfully had any regret.
“Just once more,” He said quietly. “And I'll control myself after this.” Both of you knew that it was just another empty promise.
“Like last time, and the time before that.” You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms “I don’t buy your bullshit, not anymore.”
His jaw tensed as he tried to remain patient. He knew you had every right to be mad at him, but could he blame him for wanting an escape?
“I’ll behave for a week, okay?” He asked, his leg bouncing, unable to stay still “Just give me this one last time.”
You frowned, noticing his strange behaviour “What did you take?”
Heeseung was caught off guard by the sudden question, and averted his gaze away from you, “It's just alcohol,” He replied, a slight edge in his tone “Quit fussing. We’re just going for a drive and letting off some steam.”
“You’re not driving,” You replied, your eyes widen “You’re as high as a kite, you think I don’t know that?”
Annoyance was now brewing in his gaze, and he clenched his jaw.
He wanted to snap at you for not trusting him, but a rational part of him knew deep down that he didn’t deserve your trust.
He hated that you knew him so well.
“I’m fine,” He insisted, stubbornly, taking out the car keys from the front pocket of his jeans. “I've driven drunk a hundred times. this is nothing.”
“That’s not something to be proud of,” You replied, stealing the keys from his hand. His reflexes were sloppy, so he couldn’t stop you in time. “One day you’ll either kill or get yourself killed.”
“Give it back.” He demanded, his voice low “I’ll take us to your house, we can’t stay here all night.”
“But we will if you don’t start talking.” You snapped, hiding the keys behind your back
Heeseung was taken aback by the harshness of your tone, and he was starting to get impatient as well.
“Why do you always have to be so stubborn?” He asked, his voice dropping an octave. “Just shut up and let me drive, I know what I’m doing.”
“You can’t speak without tripping over your tongue,” You questioned again, “What did you take?”
“I told you, it’s just alcohol,” He lied, his words coming out in a frustrated hiss. “Why won’t you just trust me?”
“Because you don’t give me reasons to trust you!” You spat back, your brows furrowed “What did you take?”
Heeseung was getting tired of the repetition, and the tone of your voice was starting to wear him down. He leaned in to bring his lips next to your ear.
“I just took a few ecstasy tabs, okay? And alcohol. Nothing major,” He whispered, his breath hot against your skin. “Just leave it be, alright?”
You willed your body not to show any signs of how his vicinity was affecting you “Nothing major? Heeseung, you were doing drugs.”
He leaned back and rolled his eyes, trying to brush it off “It’s just to have some fun.” He retorted “And I can make my own choices, you don’t need to be so uptight.”
“Being uptight is different from being worried!” You snapped “Getting high is not having fun. I closed an eye with the occasional weed you smoke, but this? Taking ecstasy tabs?”
Heeseung rolled his eyes as you nagged him about his life choices again. He knew that you weren’t wrong, but he hated admitting it.
He hated feeling like you were lecturing him, like he was a kid being scolded by his parents.
“Why are you so fixated on what I do?” He asked, his tone growing harsher. “I can handle myself, dammit.”
“Oh, I can see that very well.” You eyed him up and down, “You were about to attack a guy, and what for? Because he foul-mouthed you?”
He raised a brow. “He deserved it, if you didn’t come I would’ve done more than break his nose.”
The seriousness in his voice made your stomach churn. You hated to admit it, but you were scared of him sometimes.
You knew he would never lay a hand on you, deep inside he cared for you, but he didn’t care about himself at all and it served him as hatred towards others.
“Please, Heeseung.” You sighed, “Drugs aren’t something to play with. They’re dangerous.”
“A few ecstasy tabs or edibles won’t kill me, ya know?” He scoffed, running a hand in his hair.
He looked so beautiful, despite his bloodshot eyes and angry frown, he was still attractive.
“Jay called me again because you were ruining his party.” You pleaded with him to listen “Can’t you see that not even your friends want to be with you anymore?”
That worked.
Heeseung suddenly grasped your waist and pulled you onto his laps, holding you firmly in place “Enough,” He growled “I’m done listening to your lectures.”
You frowned, trying to move from his iron grip “I am not done.”
Heeseung let out a frustrated huff, and pulled you even closer, “Well, too bad,” He retorted. “You talk too much, and you nag too much, it's so annoying.”
He brought his lips close to your ear, and his voice dropped even lower. “Maybe I should just shut you up, hm?”
You didn’t like the way your body grew so weak for him, how it seemed to melt under his touch.
You needed to be strong, to let him hear your worries, so you tried to fight his grasp again.
But his grip on you was unwavering, and he didn’t even budge as you tried to push him away.
“Don’t you get it, baby?” He whispered huskily, his voice holding a hint of condescension. “I don't listen to you,
especially not when you nag.”
“I’m not doing this with you,” You said, feeling his hands on your body “I’m worried about you, Hee, we all are.”
“Enough,” He grumbled. “I don’t need your lectures.” He nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck “Why can’t you just let me be?”
His hands moved to hold your hips, forcing them to rock against his “Heeseung, stop.”
Heeseung wasn’t listening to a word you were saying, his mind clouded by the alcohol and drugs in his system.
He continued to press his face against your neck, peppering it with rough kisses, his hands began to wander to the hem of your shirt, slowly lifting it up.
“Let me have this,” He murmured, his voice deep and desperate. “I need you right now.”
You closed your eyes, a soft sigh escaping your lips “No.” You tried to say firmly “You need to go home and sleep the drug off.”
Heeseung let out a frustrated whine as you tried to resist him, and he dug his fingers into your skin.
He pulled away from your neck to look at you, his gaze filled with a mixture of irritation and desire. “I need you. I need you right now.”
He leaned closer, his lips brushing against yours. “Baby, please,” He pleaded, his voice growing soft and gentle. “Just for a little bit, please.”
Seeing him in such a desperate state made your heart ache.
At least, he had exited the party and followed you in the car.
At least, he was there with you and not in the streets, causing messes for both himself and others.
“Okay,” You whispered, gulping down the good sense.
He pressed his forehead against yours. “I just need a little release,” He mumbled. “Just a little bit... you’ll give it to me, won’t you, baby?”
As he made you grind on him you quickly matched his rhythm, slowly moving on him.
He was growing more desperate for you, his body craving yours “That’s it,” He muttered, his voice thick with lust “Hump me just like that, baby.”
You wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing his face close to your clothed chest “I’m just worried about you.” You said quietly.
Heeseung felt a flicker of guilt as you held onto him, and he reluctantly pushed it away. He didn’t want to be reminded of his mistakes.
“You worry too much,” he mumbled gruffly. “I'm fine, just stop nagging at me.”
You let out a small moan when his hips bucked up to meet yours and he said “Let me have you, baby.”
He could sense you surrender and smirked, leaning his head to suckle on your neck.
He wasn’t gentle, he left bites, brushing his tongue against it to soothe the pain.
But he wanted you to feel it, wanted you to know that pain was an occurrence if you stayed with him.
And you were too lovestruck to care, you realised.
Heeseung raised your shirt and tossed it on the passenger seat, burying his face in the middle of your breasts still contained by your bra.
He looked up at you, his gaze was clearer but darker as well, like the drug's effect was replaced by lust.
His cheeks were tinted with pink, his lips parted and you couldn’t help but grind on his clothed bulge, as if to reward him for being there.
Heeseunge closed his eyes and let out a deep moan as he felt you grinding on him, the friction sending waves of pleasure through his body.
Hee leaned his head back against the seat, his mouth slightly open as he let out a shaky exhale. “Fuck, angel,” He groaned, gripping your hips tightly, “Keep going, just like that, baby.”
Such a nickname was reserved only to you, because you were his angel, too good to be with a devil like him.
Still, you didn’t run. You never tried to.
What a fool.
His brows furrowed, only then remembering the reason behind your argument. He wanted to make you forget it, he had to.
“Angel,” He whispered, stopping you from moving, “I need to be inside of you, please.”
You bit your bottom lip and murmured, “But we don’t have a condom…”
Heeseung cursed under his breath as you reminded him about the lack of protection, his frustration growing once again.
He didn’t want to be denied, and the last thing he wanted right now was to stop.
He leaned forward and captured your lips in a rough, possessive kiss, his hands roaming all over your bare back. “I don’t care,” He mumbled against your lips. “I need you now, I don’t care if we have a condom or not.”
You were a weak girl, you knew that despite how much you tried to resist; you would always give in. And Heeseung was very much aware.
You stared down at him, your voice quiet as you said “I guess I could buy a pill tomorrow?”
He pulled away from the kiss with a sly grin “Good girl,” He murmured, his eyes dark and lustful “That’s what I wanted to hear.”
You hadn’t even realised he put a hand behind to pull the seat back until you were thrown in the backseats of the car, manoeuvred not so gently.
Heeseung was behind you in the matter of a second, your head was resting on the seat while your backside was in the air.
He leaned down, his body pressing against yours, and he started to plant a trail of rough kisses down your neck.
His hands roamed over your body, grabbing your hips and pulling you closer to him. “You look so sexy like this, baby,” He murmured, huskily.
You felt his bulge pressing in between your ass cheeks while his skilled fingers unclasped your bra, rough callous grasping them, kneading at the soft flesh.
Heeseung pulled your pants down, without even bothering to remove them properly, and dove in to lick a stripe out of your wet folds.
You moaned, your eyes squeezing “Hee.”
Heeseung murmured “Fuck baby, you always taste so good.”
He hummed at himself when you felt you press your backside against him, eager to be filled.
“Such a good girl,” He whispered “Always so willing for me. mh?”
He quickly worked his jeans down, enough just to take his hard cock out.
You yelped when he aligned it to your entrance and pushed in without any warning, the stretch too painful without any prepping.
Fighting was your favourite type of foreplay, anyways.
Heeseung leaned down, his mouth hovering over your ear. “Too much, baby?” he whispered, his voice soft and mocking.
Your eyes were squeezed tight as you tried to adjust “T-too much.” You replied, feeling jolts of pain shooting through your lower region.
He smirked at your response, feeling a sense of pride at your admission. Heloved knowing that he was the one causing you to feel this way.
“Oh angel,” He chuckled mockingly, “But you can take it.” And with those words he started moving. Rather slower than his usual pace, and that you were thankful.
You yelped in pain and so, Heeseung moved his fingers to gently circle on your clit “You need to relax, baby.”
Because for how much of an asshole Heeseung could be, he would never intentionally hurt you.
At least, not like that, he wanted to bring you the good kind of pain.
“Relax,” He groaned, feeling your walls clenching so hard around him “You’re almost pushing me out.”
You took steady breaths, trying to will your body to adjust to the thick intrusion.
Slowly, your frown contorted into an expression of pleasure.
He picked up the pace, his movements becoming more forceful.
“You feel so good baby,” He gripped your waist, your flesh burning in his grasp “So sweet and tight, just for me.”
You nodded, giving yourself completely to him “Just for you.” You mumbled, your voice muffled by being pressed against the seat.
“Ah, ah.” Heeseung pulled your hair into a makeshift ponytail and raised you, adding pain to the pleasure “I didn’t quite catch that.”
You whimpered, trying to reach his hand and pull your hair away but Heeseung caught both of your arms, pinning them behind your back “Answer me.”
“J-just for you.” And Heeseung rewarded you by picking up the pace, the sound of skin slapping and squelch filling the car, its windows fogging up.
“Good girl,” He smiled, releasing the grip in your hair and moving it to choke you instead. He licked your earlobe, tasting the saltiness of your sweaty skin “Tell me, who do you belong to?”
You shut your lips, you weren’t going to give in to his contorted and possessive kink.
You were your own persona, no one else’s.
And Heeseung didn’t like that, no, he pushed you back on the seat and held your head down, smashing your cheeks.
He slapped your ass, so hard it must’ve left a red mark “Fucking answer me, who do you belong to?” His voice was low, dangerous.
A broken whimper left your lips, the sweet sensation of his cock rutting inside you combined with his rough handling making your head spin.
“That’s not the right answer.” He taunted, his thrusts becoming deeper, hitting all the right spots.
Heeseung knew you were close, but he wasn’t going to make you cum if you wouldn’t answer such a simple question.
“Having a cock inside of you makes you so dumb?” He mocked, slapping your ass once more “You’re such a slut, can’t think when you have me buried deep inside ya?”
His words only made you clench around him, you were mad at him for treating you like that, but you were mad at yourself for liking it.
“Say. It.” His voice was dripping with impatience but you shook your head.
Heeseung scoffed, leaning down next to your ear “I can do this all night, baby,” He whispered huskily “I can keep going until you give in. Say it.”
He raised a brow, waiting for your answer.
You opened your eyes and looked at him “I’m not an object, Heeseung.” You groaned.
“No?” He tsked, moving painfully slowly inside you “Yet you act like my personal sext toy, giving yourself to me whenever I ask.”
He let go of you and crossed his arms, stilling. You frowned, a complaining whimper leaving your lips.
“Fuck yourself on my cock.” He said, his voice icy “Since you’re not mine I don’t have to provide you anything.”
“Fine.” You raised your upper body, gripping the car door as you started to move back and forth, fucking his cock in and out of you.
You groaned when it slipped out, and when Heeseung made no move to push it back, you did it yourself.
A smug grin formed on your lips when you noticed how his breath hitched when you touched it, but his expression didn’t give anything away.
You tried again, trying to move faster, but it didn’t work well. Not like when he was the one doing it.
And it seemed as if your lack of skills was starting to affect Heeseung as well, a groan leaving his lips “I know I said I had all night, but I’d like to get some action.”
You scoffed “I’m trying my best,” You replied, pushing your backside against him, trying to reach the sweet spot he seemed to always find.
Heeseung clicked his tongue and shook his head, yanking your pants off your ankles.
He took you by your hips and turned you around until he was sitting and you were straddling him.
His cock was still inside of you, but this time you were on his lap, “Let’s see if you can ride me, mh? Or you can’t do anything alone?”
You frowned at his words and gripped the seat behind your back. Heeseung rolled his eyes and removed your hands, placing them on his shoulders.
You moved up and down, your head thrown back as you could feel him whole in you.
“That’s better,” He replied, leaning back against the seat and watching you riding him, still not moving a muscle.
You whined when he made no move to touch you, usually he’d play with your nipples or send jolts of pleasure by rubbing your clit. Yet, he did none of that.
“You know the magic word.” Heeseung smirked, “Say it, and I’ll make both of us feel good.”
He tilted his head “Don’t say it, and I’ll make you ride my dick until I cum, and judging by your slow pace, it might take forever.”
A few seconds passed where you pondered on your decision.
He was still high so there might be a chance that he wouldn’t remember you had give yourself completely to him. Against your morals.
You leaned close to his ear and whispered “M’yours, Hee.”
He growled, a deep rumble in his throat as he grasped your hips and moved you.
He didn’t guide your movements, he straight up used you like you were his fleshlight. You didn’t even know how he could move your body so easily.
He kept hitting the spot that had your eyes roll, your grasp on his shoulders making your nails dig in his flesh, only fuelling his desires.
Your expression full of lust made him smirk, he leaned to capture your lips in an hungry kiss, his tongue swiping over yours, tasting you.
As you kept clenching around him, he groaned, and ordered “Open up.”
You complied and opened your mouth, Heeseung gathered some saliva and then spit it on your tongue just to swipe it away with his own right after.
You moaned, wrapping your arms around his neck to steady yourself.
Heeseung chuckled, he knew you were close to your orgasm from your body language.
Breath laboured, loud moans escaping your lips and your walls sucking him in.
“Raise yourself.” He said, holding your body up to help you.
He placed one finger inside your asshole, gaining a gasp from you.
He held it still as he started fucking into you at a fast pace, needing to reach both of your orgasms.
You started mumbling nonsense, something that resembled ‘Yes’ and ‘Harder, please’ but not even you were sure.
It was like he had fucked your into oblivion, the only thing you could think about was how good he felt inside of you.
“Close, angel?” He asked, your walls clenching around him to the point of pain.
You hummed brokenly, managing to give him a small nod.
“You want to cum?” He asked, his voice slightly softer “Want to milk all around my cock?”
You nodded “Yes, Hee, want to cum.” You mumbled, your head dizzy.
“Cum for me, baby.” He whispered in your ear, pushing his finger deeper into your asshole.
You felt the knot in your stomach tighten so hard that when it snapped, you bit down on Heeseung’s clothed shoulder, making him groan and tighten his grip around you.
Your legs were shaking and you were panting from the intensity of your euphoria, your ears ringing.
Heeseung held you close to his chest, slowing his pace to bring you back to reality.
Slowly, your teeth let go of Heeseung’s shoulder, the metallic taste of blood in your mouth.
You gulped and looked at him through half lidded eyes, but his own were fixed down.
He was staring at where your bodies connected, the circle of your white liquid around his shaft, you could feel him twitch inside you.
“You can take some more, can’t you, baby?” He questioned, but you shook your head.
Heeseung frowned, “No? But I still haven’t finished.” Your body was tired and so was your mind, both from the fight and the intense sex.
“Let me finish,” He kissed you, deeply “Let me fill you up to the brim, please?”
You moaned at the thought, despite always taking precautions, you have always wanted him to make you his in the most primal way.
Seeing that you weren’t making a negative comment, Heeseung started moving you, slowly.
You moaned, feeling overstimulated as you gripped the arms that held you “Hee— I ca-I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.” He groaned, holding you still, flush to his chest as he started rutting his cock deep, hitting your cervix.
His moans were low, more like rumbles deep in his throat as he held your head on his shoulder, his eyes squeezing.
“Fuck,” He panted, moving so fast you could barely finish a moan that another one was coming, your voice hoarse “Fuck, Fuck, Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”
He fisted your hair, his other hand on your waist with a bruising grip “Gonna fill you so good, fuck my cum right back into you.”
You didn’t know if he was rumbling to you or more to himself, not like you minded.
Letting out a deep growl, he hit the deepest spot in you and emptied his load.
With some more deep thrusts, you could feel him twitch, and you felt so full.
His pace slowed until he finally stopped and you fell on him, fucked up.
Your whole body was bruised from his grip, your mind dizzy and your breath ragged.
“This was so good,” Heeseung whispered, holding your face in his hands and kissing you deeply.
He tried to move again but you grasped his arm, shaking your head “No, stop.” And he had the decency to comply, this time.
He pulled out and placed you beside him, putting his now softened cock back into his jeans.
Heeseung retrieved your shirt from the passenger seat, and tossed it to you, as well as your sweatpants.
Only when you were fully dressed did he speak again “I’m sorry, for what I did.”
Your eyes widened, not expecting his apology at all “Hee…” You murmured, your gaze soft “I’m just so worried about you, I get mad because I care about you.”
You placed one hand on his cheek, caressing his skin with your thumb. “If I didn't, it wouldn’t matter that you snorted things or… injected shit into your veins.”
Heeseung frowned, “I’m not a junkie, all I did was take some ecstasy tabs.”
You sighed, knowing there was no way to make him reason when he was still drunk and high “Okay, Heeseung. Whatever you say.”
“I’m driving.” Your tone was firm “Y/N.” He tried to say but you stopped him.
“No, I am driving,” You retrieved the keys that had fallen and climbed on the driver’s seat.
Heeseung let out a sigh but didn’t talk back, instead he climbed into the passenger seat and shut his mouth, probably all that he had drank and snorted was taking a toll on him.
You hadn’t realised when you took him into your apartment and showered with him, which led into another round of love— sex making.
You hadn’t realised when he apologised for his behaviour and kissed each mark he had left on your skin.
You hadn’t realised when he let you sleep on his chest, gently rubbing his hands through your hair.
But you did when you woke up to an empty bed, with a plan b pill and a glass of water wishing you a good morning. The only trace of your boyfriend being the wrinkled sheets beside you.
Only then, did you realise that Lee Heeseung was going to be the death of you.
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br0kenangel · 3 months ago
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BABY SISTER: 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺 𝘈𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺 𝘈𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘯𝘦𝘸𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘯 𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦.
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The Red Keep hummed with quiet excitement, a rare gentleness settling over the halls as the news spread. The queen had given birth to another child, a girl, and the brothers were brought to see their sister for the first time.
Aegon, stomped ahead, his silver-blond hair a wild mess that matched the glint of mischief in his violet eyes. “I don’t see why everyone’s so fussed,” he grumbled, casting a look over his shoulder at Aemond, who followed more cautiously. “She’s just a babe. Probably all wrinkly and loud.”
Aemond didn’t reply. He wasn’t quite sure what to expect. His small hand clutched the edge of his older brother’s sleeve, his wide eyes taking in every detail as they approached the cradle where their sister lay sleeping. Aegon made a face as they neared. “See? She’s not doing anything interesting.”
Despite his words, Aegon leaned over the cradle’s edge, his annoyance more curious than he let on. Aemond stood on his toes beside him, peering over, almost shyly. Inside the cradle was the tiniest babe they’d ever seen, her silver hair softer than the finest silk, curling slightly on her tiny head. Her cheeks were pink and round, and she slept peacefully, her breaths soft and steady.
Aegon wrinkled his nose. “She’s so small.” He reached out and gave her a gentle poke on the cheek. “Hey, wake up.”
Aemond gasped softly, his eyes wide. “Don’t!” he whispered, though he was just as curious. He glanced back down at her, nervous that Aegon might have hurt her.
The babe stirred, her little nose scrunching up. Aegon watched in surprise as her eyelids fluttered open slowly, revealing the same violet eyes that both brothers shared. She blinked up at them, her gaze drifting between Aegon’s smirk and Aemond’s wide-eyed stare. Then, as if recognizing them in some deep, instinctual way, the corners of her tiny mouth curled into a soft, gentle smile.
Both boys froze, their hearts seeming to stop at the same moment. Aegon, who had been ready to declare his sister boring and unimportant, suddenly found himself captivated by that smile. His earlier irritation melted away, replaced with something warm and protective he didn’t quite understand. “She’s… she’s smiling at us,” he whispered, almost in awe.
Aemond, who had been hesitant, felt his heart swell. He reached out a tiny hand, his fingers barely brushing her soft, pudgy one. “She’s beautiful,” he breathed, his voice filled with wonder.
The babe made a small, contented sound, her tiny hand curling instinctively around Aemond’s finger. Her eyes, so large and innocent, stayed fixed on her brothers, as if already knowing how important they would be in her life. Aegon reached out too, letting her grab his finger with surprising strength. The moment was simple, yet so lovely. The two boys stared down at their sister, completely captivated, forgetting any doubts or teasing words.
Aegon, who had been ready to dismiss her, now felt a fierce surge of love and protectiveness. “I guess… I guess she’s not so bad,” he admitted, but there was no mistaking the affection in his voice.
Aemond just nodded, still entranced, his heart swelling with a love he had never felt before. “We’ll take care of her,” he said softly, a promise in his quiet words.
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Part 2 ♡ Part 3
@ 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚, 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒆𝒃𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔.
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supercutszns · 10 months ago
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Hi!! Just had to drop in and say I LOVED your Luke fic and I can’t wait for more. I would love protective Luke with hurt/comfort, if that sounds interesting at all. Thanks for sharing your writing!!! 🌸
fighting chance; luke castellan
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wc + pairing: 4.2k, luke castellan x daughter of ares! reader
synopsis: when an enemy takes advantage of your kindness during capture the flag, luke intervenes with a sword in hand.
warnings: a creepy boy👎, threats/harm to reader, she’s going through it, blood/injuries (nothing major), angry ANGRY luke, violence, lots of fluff/reassurance at the end<3
notes: thank you SO much for your kind words & your request!! hurt/comfort is my bread and butter my favourite fic genre of all time i think. & protective luke is just a bonus bc he’s already crazy so it can go as far as i want🤭 i’m not exactly sure what this turned into but if i fix it any more i'm going to go insane so hope you like it!
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You’re not much of a fighter.
That alone is a normal thing to admit—plenty of people don’t like violence, the frisson of a challenge, the bruises that come with them. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.
Unless you’re a child of Ares.
People at camp often ridicule your gentle nature when they see you with your half-siblings. They’re all gritted teeth and sharp edges, born warriors that take up all the space they can get. You, on the other hand, are lousy with weapons and even lousier with your fists. You’re quiet, attentive. While your siblings charge into battle without second thought you stay back, flitting around to adjust armour, change out weapons, oversee the terrain. Planning isn’t Ares’ style so you’re pretty much useless but nobody wants to admit it. You’re usually mistaken as a child of Hephaestus or Athena.
Unfortunately, you are a child of Ares, through and through—just in none of the ways that matter.
There are rare times your father’s influence peeks through. Not with bursts of rage or fists flying, but with thoughts. And sometimes those thoughts turn into words. Well, not sometimes. One time. This one.
The evening before the camp’s Capture the Flag game, every cabin gathered around the bonfire past dinner. To burn offerings, to chat, or in Luke Castellan’s case, to admire.
He watches you laugh with Clarisse from a distance. The Ares cabin leader always had a certain fondness for you. When Luke first started dating you he had to ask Clarisse for her blessing beforehand just to be sure she wouldn’t kill him. He’d do it a million times over just for the moment you look back, your face warming when you catch his stare. He rolls his eyes at you to lessen his smile, but he’s not sure it works. You giggle and turn back to your friend.
He’s always loved your softness; your capacity to defend and not attack. Your body rejects any skill you could possibly develop for violence. Believe him, he’s tried to teach you sword fighting, but the last time he gave you a lesson you nearly impaled yourself thirty seconds in. He loves your wit and your tenderness, your proficiency at preventing conflict, your refusal to argue. But a selfish part of him loves the fact that he’s your protector even more.
The night wears on with the flickers of fire and friendly banter. One of the times Luke looks back at you, his brows wrinkle. There’s a guy talking to you. A group of them, actually, but there’s one clearly leading the pack. Some Aphrodite kid. Luke’s jaw twitches.
“Hey, princess,” the voice makes you pull away from your talk with Clarisse, but you’re confused. Luke is the only one that calls you that.
“Um, me?” You ask when you see the boy in front of you. He’s tall, chest puffed out. It’s not an endearing silhouette. “What’s up?”
“You wanna be on my team for Capture the Flag tomorrow?” He asks nonchalantly.
You laugh politely, “Sorry, but I don’t think we’re allied with Aphrodite tomorrow. That’s your cabin, isn’t it?” You feel bad that you can’t remember—his face is so … plain.
He chuckles back, but it’s a lot less nice. “No, doll, that’s not what I mean.” He steps a little too close, and even though you know Clarisse is behind you it feels like she’s a thousand miles away. “Well,” he drawls, a smirk drawn out, “you meet me in the forest after we start, and then we can … you know. Confer.”
“Confer?”
“Yeah. You get what I mean, pretty girl, don’t play dumb.”
A revulsion coats your gut. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t call me that,” you say as firmly as you can.
“What, pretty or dumb? Why not both?”
It’s demeaning, the way he says it, and it stirs a temper in your stomach you know you inherited from your father. You’re not big on confrontation. Or embarrassment. But this weirdo is talking to you out in the open and people are starting to stare. He wouldn’t dish it out if he can’t take it, right?
“I’ll pass on your offer. I have a boyfriend and I’m actually on his team tomorrow, so I’d rather confer with him, sorry.” Your hands wring together but you do your best to quell them, imagining it’s the string of Luke’s camp necklace, threaded between your fingers. You try to look for him out of the corner of your eye.
He snickers, even though it’s common knowledge you and Luke have been together for months now. “So you are dumb, huh?” He tries to smirk and you assume is supposed to be sexy, but it’s just gross. His hand tries to slide around your waist.
“Don’t touch me, please,” you hit his hand away. Your skin is crawling and the knot inside you tightens.“Just leave me alone. People are looking, you know.”
“We could go somewhere where nobody looks,” he sneers, and the grin on his face is so sleazy that you just can’t stand it anymore.
You pray to your father for strength. And to yourself for forgiveness.
“I’m sorry, are you stupid or something? I told you, no.” You snap. “Maybe you’re the pretty dumb one, but for a child of Aphrodite it’s shocking how little the first one applies.”
His eyes are wide, and the posse he’d assembled behind him has attracted quite the view. You almost feel like crying, all these eyes on you, but you’re so sick of people thinking they can walk all over you just because you’re not like your siblings.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? I’m just trying to be nice—” He grabs your wrist as you leave but you yank it hard.
“Don’t. Touch me.” People are staring at you now, but the only one you care about is Luke, who looks equally ticked and equally proud, and all you want to do is kiss him. “Hope the only time we confer tomorrow is if somebody’s sword is at your throat.”
It’s the last thing you say to him. He starts to go after you but Luke is already at your heels. “Back off, man.” You can spot how all his muscles are already rearing themselves for a fight. You wrap a hand around his wrist, and he meets your eyes. Not now.
The altercation is lost the second the two of you leave the bonfire. Nothing matters when Luke has you in his arms, kissing you outside of your cabin, telling you how damn beautiful you looked.
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You’re fixing a new Ares boy’s armour when Luke finds you. “Hey, angel,” he says, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek. He relishes in the way your face heats up. “You ready for battle?”
You smile, “Always.” You pat the kid on the cheek and send him on his way. He gnashes his teeth and roars, joining his siblings at the front. Luke catches the longing in your expression.
“All good?” He asks gently.
It takes you a second for your eyes to meet his. “Mmhm,” you swallow. “Just hope his armour doesn’t fall off.”
Luke sighs for a moment, then wraps his arms around you. “He’ll be fine, sweetheart. Be safe, okay? Stay close.” He kisses your temple, rubbing circles on the nape of your neck.
“Yes sir,” you reply against his chest. His insides flutter.
He pulls your face up to his and kisses you, tender and wanting. “Let’s show these hooligans who’s boss,” he quips.
“You’ll show them. I’ll hide in the woods until some idiot comes along and tries to ambush you.”
Your dulcet tone has him wrapped around your finger, and you don’t even know it. “You’ve always got my back,” he croons, kissing your brow.
“And you’ve always got our flag.”
You kiss him again and he lets you slip out of his arms no matter how badly he wants to keep you there forever. He watches you vanish into the trees, and his heart goes with you.
He gears up with his team and the horn sounds. Game on.
There’s yelling, sweat, adrenaline, and Luke embraces it all like a man starved. This is his chance to be ruthless, to let all his untapped rage cycle through him. This is why he’s unstoppable. This is why he’s the best.
Clarisse is unusually cooperative today, but competent as always, and whenever someone’s weapon breaks or they lose their team she just barks at them to go find you. You, the smartest person in Ares, who can mend a weapon with nothing but blades of grass and determination. Luke is pretty sure your cabin would be lost without you. He wonders if you know.
The groove of the game has fully enthralled him. He’s alert, his wrist nimble, his sword a living, breathing part of him. There’s almost nothing that can take him out of his victory path until he hears one of the younger campers tell Clarisse he can’t find you anymore.
Whatever nincompoop he’s dealing with is left groaning on the floor. “What?” He barks, hand flexing around his sword. “Where is she?”
“Probably just moved,” Clarisse grunts as she kicks back an opposing camper. “She knows where everything is. Maybe she’s—oof—safer.”
“But how am I supposed to fix my spear?” The kid frowns.
Luke runs his tongue along the roof of his mouth, dry and laden with salt. He told you to stay close. Where would you go? “I’ll find her,” he decides, already sheathing his sword to walk towards the trees.
“Luke—”
“I’ll find her!”
He barely pays attention to the calamity going on around him. With a flick of his wrist he knows he can take out any person he wants. The second he gets to the trees, where the air is cooler, it’s startling how much quieter it is. No wonder this is your preferred hiding spot.
He thanks the quiet a thousand times over because if it had been any louder he wouldn’t have heard you scream.
It’s so short it’s almost indiscernible, but he knows it’s you based on how his body movies before his brain does. It snaps something in him, the adrenaline transformed into something acerbic, determined.
“Don’t fucking scream again.” A cluster of boys are stationed around you. You’re leaning back in the dirt. You barely feel the earth sticking to your skin. Just your heart jostling madly, your fingertips shaking in the ground beside you. “Okay, I won’t, just put the sword down—”
The snarling Aphrodite boy from last night takes a swing at you, and you scramble back just enough to avoid it. “No can do, doll.” His face is twisted with rage. The lackeys he had when you told him off are there too, cornering you against a cluster of trees like you’re some caged animal. There’s a dagger clenched in one of your dirt-ridden fists but you know it won’t do you any good. You can’t fight; you don’t have it in you. But these boys do. And they’re angry.
“Tell me where the flag is,” he orders. The tip of his blade comes under your chin, fogging up with the labours of your breath, your head pressed against the trunk of a tree.
You stutter, “You’re not—You’re not supposed to threaten like this—”
“You embarrassed me in front of all those people yesterday,” he cuts you off. “Thinking you’re so fucking smart. I didn’t even say anything that big a deal but you run your mouth to the entire camp and make me look like the idiot. I thought you were nice.”
The words are laced with poison. You know from the wild look in his eyes that this isn’t about the flag at all.
Tears sting your eyes and the sword grazes your throat. Of course this is happening to you. The one time you feel your father’s rage, when you exemplify the thing you’re told to be, you are punished.
You are never going to be the right kind of daughter.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” you try to say it evenly, but your breath is so ragged it’s barely audible. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said all that.” You mean it, but they won’t care.
The boy’s face looks pleased at your tears. It makes you inexorably ashamed. “Some fucking Ares kid,” he snorts. “Can’t even fight, can you? Can’t even pretend to.” His sword leaves your throat and travels up to your quivering jaw. You’re wordless, white-knuckling the dagger at your side, praying that Luke is somewhere nearby.
“No wonder they stash you back here. You’re useless.” His eyes scan every part of you, and the idea of him knowing what you look like forever is so revolting it makes you want to vanish. “Too bad you’re alone, though. Nobody’s gonna know I was here because nobody’s gonna hear you.”
Your eyes get wide, and something in your mind rumbles through you like an engine. An urge buried in your blood.
Your dagger tears into his leg just as his sword dashes your arm. The pain is sharp, stinging, but the boy winces and you know you hurt him too. It gives you just enough time to roll out of the way as he lurches forward. “The fuck is wrong with you?” He swears.
Blood drips onto your shorts, splotched with tears. You know you can’t go anywhere because his friends are here and you’re almost certain you’ll be maimed, but you tried. At least you tried.
The Aphrodite boy picks his sword back up, stalks towards you, and then freezes.
Because Luke has just spotted you. And he’s spotted the boy that has you on the ground.
And he’s the best fucking swordsman Camp Half-Blood has seen in three hundred years.
“If you don’t get away from her right now I’m putting this through your skull.” He emerges from the foliage, his sword raised, sweat dripping down his face. You have never seen anyone look angrier. He has never felt angrier.
The boy blanches, and Luke sees how easily his lapdog friends shrink in his presence. Good.
“Woah, easy,” the boy holds his hands up in mock surrender and tries to flash a smile but it’s just fucking pathetic. His arms are shaking and his throat bobs about a million times. “We’re just playing the game.”
“Like hell you are,” Luke spits. “You gang up on my girlfriend and you expect me to believe this is fair play? Want me to tie you all together and push one of you off a cliff to keep the spirit going?”
“Didn’t know she was yours,” the boy tries to shrug but again, it’s a miserable attempt that only makes Luke feel stronger.
“Not that it matters but yes, you do,” Luke chuckles thickly. “I beat your ass in sword training last week. You know exactly who I am. And I’m sure you know who you are, so it’s obvious you’re playing out of your league here.”
Out of the corner of his eye he sees you still cowering, blood dribbling down your arm. He wants to tear the world apart. “Apologize and maybe I don’t send you to the infirmary.”
“We just want the flag, man,” the boy swallows.
“And I want your head on a stick. Want to see who gets what first?”
It’s too provocative an insult for a moron like this to ignore, so soon Luke has the pleasure of disarming five bitter boys that have clearly never been good at a single thing in their life. He tears through them like sheets of paper, knocking them to the dirt, ripping their clothes. He thinks of you, just you, your honest heart and patient hands, and it’s enough to fuel him for a millennia.
The last boy, the leader, is at Luke’s mercy, and he has none to give. The flat of Luke’s blade is pressed horizontally against the boy’s neck, an angering similarity to the position he had you in earlier. “If you ever do this again, I’m going to kill you.”
“You’re—fucking—crazy—” The boy wheezes, the length of the blade squeezing his throat against a tree trunk. “I’ll—I‘ll tell Chiron.”
Luke has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep him from doing something he regrets. “Oh yeah? You want me to tell Chiron how you harassed and terrorised a girl in the middle of the forest all in the name of play? Want me to tell him what you said to her last night at the campfire? Because I’m sure it won’t take much for him to get rid of your ugly face as it is, and I’m a camp counsellor.”
He knows it’s not the most morally correct use of his title. He knows he might be stepping over the line. But he also knows you’re always being ignored or trampled over and he’s tired of pretending like he doesn’t give a damn. He’s tired of people trying to force you into something you’re not. Of you crying in his bed at night because they’re trying to drag a violence out of you that isn’t there. Always in the name of fucking play.
Luke takes the sword off the boy’s neck and shoves him backwards. His calf is bleeding, not a deep wound, but a wound nonetheless, and Luke is full of pride when he realizes you did that. The boy’s bad leg makes him wobble and fall at the force of the push. Luke enjoys watching the scramble. “I—I was just trying to be nice, it’s not my fault she took it the wrong way!” The boy flails his hands in the air, rising to his feet again, and Luke shoves him down twice as hard. A piece of his shirt tears off in Luke’s hand.
“You’ve gotta stop talking or I really am going to kill you,” he seethes. “Don’t touch her ever again. Go.”
Luke is sure he looks homicidal right now because the guy finally tumbles his way down the hill. His body fades into the distance, swallowed up by shrubbery and sweat.
The second he’s gone Luke tosses his sword and armour and gets back to you. “Shit,” he mutters, kneeling down. You’re still shaking, your head in your arms, and all his hatred morphs into a love so desperate it terrifies him. “Angel, come here. Let me see.” He lifts your face with his hands and scans you rapidly. “Did he hurt you anywhere else? Anywhere?”
“Just my arm,” you whimper. “My arm.”
He knows it’s not the cut that’s hurting you; it’s long, but thin, and it’s not bleeding too thickly. He takes the cloth from the Aphrodite boy’s shirt and wraps it around your arm, knotting it at the end. “All right, that should be better.”
You look at him with watery eyes, and he knows all you need is for him to hold you. He folds you in his arms and leans against a stump. You can’t get close to him fast enough. The tip of your nose buries itself in his neck and he feels the dampness of your cheeks on his skin. “It’s okay, sweetheart, you’re safe,” he soothes, pressing a kiss to your hair. “I’m so sorry.”
Guilt swaths over him for a brief moment; he wonders if he shouldn’t have done all that, if he should’ve been more sensible. Then your lips form a ‘thank you’ against his skin and all is forgotten.
You feel so small. The shock is still running its course, so all you can do is cry it out. Your hands still shake when you thread your fingers through Luke’s necklace to steady them. He soothes you the best he can, running his hand along your spine, all the sharpness of his voice softened just for you. “You’re all right, angel. I’m not going anywhere.”
You stay like that for a while. The sounds of the forest return to you; leaves in the wind, birds chirping, Luke’s breath tickling your hair. You crane your head up to nuzzle your nose against the faint stubble of his jaw. “My hero,” you murmur, and feel his skin shift as he smiles.
“Couldn’t have done it without you. Saw the cut you gave him on his leg.” He kisses your temple. “I hope it gets infected.”
You giggle weakly no matter how you try smothering it in his chest. “Gods, you’re awful.”
“He deserves it! I probably should have killed him!”
“You came pretty close, didn’t you?” You mumble. Luke’s expression is wary, but you smile to yourself and it dispels everything. “I was hoping you’d come.”
“Good. Serves them right, messing with you like that. Fucking idiots.” He kisses your face again for good measure, “You sure they didn’t get you anywhere else, princess?”
You nod but you know you look wounded. You nudge into the crook of Luke’s neck again. “They … you know, it’s just … the usual stuff.” Every word weighs a pound as it comes out. Your heart feels sore.
Luke tenses again instantly. “What usual stuff?”
“Um, just—” The shame gets caught in your throat. “They all think I’m useless, Luke. Why can’t I do this right?”
You start to cry again, but he just holds you closer. Sometimes it surprises you how much patience he has. He prides himself as the harsher one between the two of you, but you don’t know who he’s fooling with the way he always knows how to comfort people.
“I don’t know what to do,” you continue, blinking back tears, “I’m not—I’m just not good at this, I don’t know why I’m in Ares, I don’t know why I can’t … be that. Why is he my father? I’m no good at being angry. I want to be angry.”
Luke’s quiet for a moment. Nothing changes except his hand rubbing circles on the nape of your neck again. Then he sighs deeply and says, “You don’t owe your father a damn thing. You don’t owe anyone anything.” He’s resolute, firm, a sharp contrast to his gentle kiss on your hairline. “You’re the smartest, most generous person I know. You need those people in battle. You’ll lose if you don’t.”
The warmth of his skin prompts you to look up at him. He looks different so often, the way he can shift between so tough and so gentle. Sometimes, like now, he’s caught in the middle, the remains of a furious sweat hardening his face, but his eyes are nothing but tender. You think it’s how you like him best.
“Besides, we’re not our parents, right? Who cares about Ares anyway?” Luke shrugs.
“Luke! Don’t say that!” your tears turn into a giggle. “The Gods might punish you!”
“I’ll handle it. There’s enough fight in me for the both of us.”
“Okay, tough guy,” you mutter with a weak smile.
You’re still sniffling. He runs his thumbs across your cheeks, and his gaze softens. “You’re an Ares kid because you are a fighter, angel. You just fight a hell of a lot smarter than the rest of us. Best one I know. Well, other than me.”
It makes you smile. “So second-best?”
“Tied for first.”
He kisses you with that stupid roguish smile. It’s salty with tears and sweat, but it mends your heart anyway. There is nowhere in the world you’d feel safer.
“I love you,” he says against your cheek. “Be as sweet as you want. If anyone has anything to say about it I’ll mess ‘em up good.” Your face warms as his voice drops to your ear, “And I know you’re an Ares kid because you’ll encourage it every time. You might not have a violent bone in your body, but you sure don’t have a problem with me using mine.”
“Diplomatically, Luke. Diplomatically.”
“Sure, sure. Whatever you want.”
You can’t help but kiss him again. You’re not entirely sure why he loves you so much, why you love him so much, but you never feel quite as secure as when you’re with him.
Cheers boom from the other side of camp. Luke’s head perks up like a dog, and you turn back to search for spots of red or blue. “Did we win?” You ask, craning your head to get a better view.
“Don’t care,” Luke says.
You look back at him. His anxious face says it all. “Yes, you do.”
“Okay yes, I do, and I need to see if those douches found our flag so I can choke them out with it.”
You laugh, standing so Luke can jog off to see the state of your team. But before he goes, he picks you up and smothers you in kisses, holding you like you’re his prize.
You are not a fighter, but your boyfriend sure is. And you’re perfectly okay with that.
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boyfhee · 8 months ago
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박성훈 、PRETTY FACE
all the trouble sunghoon gets himself in lands him in your arms.
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featuring ⋆ rich boy! sunghoon x fem reader
contents ⋆ kissing, mentions of cuts, injuries and blood, just a whole lot of fluff i miss writing cute stuff, insecurities perhaps ( 1370 )
notes ⋆ rich boy sunghoon....save me from him. also this was not meant to be above a thousand words and was supposed to be funny. and this one's for saint @hoonvrs hi bae
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one thing you’ve learnt while dating sunghoon, it’s always an adventure. so unforeseen, like when he showed up at your balcony, again, last night with a few bruises and cuts on his face. you had let him in and he avoids your attempt at cupping his face just as swiftly. and dating sunghoon is exhilarating, with the way you let him stay for the night, again, knowing your parents are home.
“good morning,” you smile and brush your thumb over the cut on the corner of his lips. it’s red, his lips are dry, and yet they’re soft when you lean down for a quick peck. 
“morning, sweetheart,” he says quietly. “how creepy of you to watch me sleep,”
“guess i’ll be a creep if it means i get to look at your handsome face,” you hum, fighting back a smile.
“is that a compliment i hear?” and he’s almost turning away to sleep, but your words catch him off, and he smirks drowsily with a soft and sleepy gaze adorning you. “what’s the occasion?”
“i’m serious, hoon. you’re handsome,” you insist with a frown, cupping his face again, thumb brushing over his cheeks as you lean in and whisper ever so tenderly. “so handsome, it’s crazy,”
“well, aren’t you sweet, my love,” and he can’t help but wrap his arms around you, pulling you on top of him. it’s quiet, you lay with your head on his chest. it’s barely six, you look out through the huge glass window panes installed in your room by your request to fit the aesthetic, but now it’s how sunghoon climbs up your room every other night. 
it’s not usual for him to get compliments. usually, you’re trying to play it cool, as if his words don’t affect you as much as he thinks they do. on other days, you’re busy rolling your eyes every time he flirts. you make him work for compliments, it’s funny, and he enjoys it. a little bit of challenge in his way too easy lifestyle keeps him going. but today— as you’re quietly listening to his heartbeat while he’s caressing your back— you want to stay like this. 
he brushes his fingers through your hair, planting soft kisses on your head every few seconds. it’s rare for you two to be this quiet. with sunghoon, every minute spent on bed leads to something else, most of the time. but this time it’s silent, it’s risky, he’s in your room and as much as he jokes about it, the idea of being caught by your parents isn’t something either of you fancy.
“i think i should get up and leave before your—” it lands upon you to worry about keeping everything a secret, today it’s his job to make sure the secret is safe.
“it stings, doesn’t it?” you cut him off immediately, pinning him down as he tries to get up. he can see the concern in your eyes, worries trickling through your finger tips and seeping through his skin when you lace your fingers over his scratches. 
“i told you, they’re not that bad,” he shrugs, too careless, carefree. he doesn’t know why you worry yourself over something so minor. “they don’t even hurt,” 
“it hurts me to see you like this,” and his thoughts are put to halt when the words leave your mouth. 
it was half past one when sunghoon knocked at the glass doors of your balcony. you were getting ready for bed after movies, and he was avoiding your gaze as you were running your eyes over his state— messy, hurt, and so were you.  
‘did you get into another fight with heeseung?’ you had asked and he avoided, again, dodging all your questions and attempts to check on him. you let him in, and he goes straight to your bathroom. his gaze doesn’t meet your eyes, he avoids all the eye contact and conversation. he turns away to take off his shirt covered in dirt. it’s worse this time. ‘come here,’ 
you grabbed his arm to pull him towards you, but he refused to face you. he’s ashamed, like every time he is when you see him like this. the pretty face you’ve always been so fond of no longer fits the definition. you tried to make him look at you, but he grabbed your hands, kissing your palms and pulled you to bed. 
“is that a new way of telling me to not get into fights?” he asks, feigning a yawn, a faint chuckle following by. you’re still on top of him, pinning him down, and if he didn’t know any better, you would’ve ended up under him already. 
“is it working?”
“a bit,” he mumbles quietly and pulls you closer by your waist, face nuzzling in the crook of your neck. he keeps planting tender kisses on your cheeks, and then down on your neck, as if telling you to let go of all the concerns that plague your mind. “you worry too much,”
“i know, i will continue to do that,” you pull back again, much to his disappointment. nothing could compare to the feeling of having you in his arms. “if not for your dad and for the sake of your reputation then at least for me, you need to stop,”
sunghoon knows.
if not for anything— it isn’t for anything else. not for his mother’s million dollars fashion brand, not for his sister’s business ventures, nor his father’s political career. it’s for you, every scratch, every nip and every cut, every drop of blood that had trickled down the corner of his lips when heeseung landed a punch on his face. how could he not? sunghoon can stand anything but people talking down on you as if they know you. it makes him fight for you and funnily enough, he’s happy to bleed to death for you.
“you always ruin the mood, bringing that old man up,” he’s deflecting— just as you had expected and you’re not backing down. one leg swinging to the other side, arms by his head. he’s down, caged, a position where he can’t avoid you. it’s about time you two had this conversation.
“i’m serious,” you’re trying your best to keep up the stern face, eyes locked into his. 
“i love it when you get all serious, angel,” he grins suggestively, arms around your waist again. he’s slipping them under your top, you slap it away and it only makes him laugh in amusement. “i suppose it is a bit too early for that,”
you don’t say anything, just looking at his pretty face. you stroke softly over the cut on his cheekbone and he flinches ever so slightly. it’s new, it stings, adorned by a bit of dried up blood just like the one on his lips. there’s one near his jaw from a while ago, it’s healing. each and every part an ugly reminder of how much trouble he gets in.
“you’re such a pretty face,” you whisper quietly and lean down to kiss him, trying to be so gentle to not hurt him even more. you take your sweet time, tracing your lips over those wounds, new or old, and then speaking with a voice impossibly loving. “even with these,”
“i love it when you call me that,” he takes your hand, kissing your palms. it’s not everyday that he’s spoiled like this.
and you pull your hand back, speaking with frown as if giving him a warning. “i won’t anymore if you get into another fight,”
“guess we’re making truce with heeseung,” he chuckles quietly, shaking his head, pretending to be annoyed. he finally pulls you down next to him and wraps his arms around you, kissing your forehead. “things i do for my girl,”
you let out a muffled laughter while your face is buried in his chest before looking up at him with love pouring out of your eyes. “for me?”
“for you,” you hand rests on his cheeks as he leans down for a kiss, and his hands wrap over them gently, holding them in place. when you kiss him so deeply yet delicately, like it’s a stellar reunion, he pulls away just for a brief second, whispering against your lips. “everything,”
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yueebby · 1 year ago
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sooo i read your "indulge me?" piece and that's why i wanted to ask for gojo simping for reader that doesn't really seem him as more as a friend and he's fine with it (lol he's not but he's need to keep the facade you know???) hope you write it at some point! btw loving you writing so far <333
11:34pm — gojo satoru
contents. highschool!gojo, fluff, he’s so in love bye, underage drinking, tokyo and kyoto students have a little get together!
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“what’s wrong with him?” utahime watches her white haired underclassman down another can of beer. it was rare to see gojo drinking with the rest of the group, always opting for a soda instead.
shoko takes another swig out of her drink, unsurprised. “[name] is on a date.” 
a pathetic groan leaves gojo’s lips and the upper half of his body is splayed over the kotatsu in shoko’s room, sunglasses long forgotten somewhere. he lets out an unapologetic burp. everyone at the table spares him a glance of pity. 
utahime grimaces and mutters a quiet, “gross”. 
“don’t provoke him,” geto scolds shoko, flicking some ash from his cigarette to the ashtray below. “she’s just dealing with clan matters. arranged marriages and whatnot.” he used his free hand to land a firm pat on gojo’s back. what kind of best friend would he be if he didn’t try to comfort satoru? 
“poor thing. i can keep you company in the meantime,” mei mei’s smile is far from something with good intentions. gojo shakes his head to refuse, but with the way his forehead was pressed to the table, it looked comical. like a child throwing a tantrum. 
the only thing that managed to get gojo satoru out of his drunken slump was a soft knock on the door. he could recognize that pattern anywhere. could it be–? the snow haired boy immediately perks up. his drunk dazed eyes brighten as he quickly makes his way to the door. 
geto snorts at the way his best friend reacts. he thinks he can see an imaginary tail wagging, as if he were a dog. 
“you’re late!” gojo accuses you when he opens the door. you blink.
“are you…okay?” your voice is laced with concern as gojo’s large frame towers over you. gojo preens.
“awww, is my [name] worried about me now? don’t worry, ‘m doing just fine!” there is a goofy grin painted on gojo’s face as he leans against the doorway. all conversation has stopped and every sorcerer was listening attentively to gojo's hopeless conversation with you. utahime can’t help but feel just a little compassion for the boy. he was pining so much it hurt.
“i wasn’t worried. it's just that your words are all slurred– don’t tell me you let shoko talk you into drinking with her again?” you sigh. it was hard to miss the smell of beer on him. gojo and alcohol never mixed well, and the last thing you needed tonight was another lecture from yaga. 
from inside her room, shoko shouts, “it wasn’t me this time! the idiot decided to drown himself in beer after we warned him not to!” it was common knowledge that gojo couldn’t handle his alcohol. 
the male in question pouts.
“can a man not grieve about the love of his life being married to another?” gojo deflates. on the other side of the threshold, you wrinkle your nose.
“who said anything about marriage? like hell i’m going to accept a proposal from naoya zen’in.” you grumble. it had been a long night. dealing with your family and naoya was enough to scare you into staying in jujutsu tech for good. you’d rather lose your sanity to gojo than your dignity to naoya. 
“never mind that though, are mei mei and utahime still here? i was hoping to catch up with them!” you smile, crouching under his arm to make your way into the room. gojo doesn’t hesitate to trail right behind you. 
“[name]!” utahime waves happily at you, her mood no longer sour after she sees you. your wave back is enthusiastic. mei mei acknowledges your presence.
“how was dinner with naoya?” suguru asks. your face pinches up. he laughs before handing you a cold can of soda which you accept graciously.
you hear gojo mutter to himself from behind you.
“what’s up with him?” you whisper to suguru.
“you know how he is when he drinks,” he sighs, ushering you to sit beside him. gojo seemed to have his own agenda though, forcefully squeezing himself between the two of you. you shoot him an annoyed look to which he responds with a grin on his face. 
“‘m tired,” he whines, stretching his arms dramatically while letting out a loud yawn. you grunt when there’s a heavy weight on you; gojo has thrown his entire body on your side.
you don’t bother pushing him off. you’ve learned in the two years you’ve known gojo that he is like a baby when he gets drunk. it’s best if you let him have his way.
“go to sleep then, idiot,” you flick his forehead. he juts his bottom lip childishly, looking up at you with wide eyes. his eyes are captivating and you think you see nervousness through those azure orbs.
“will you come to bed with me too?” he rests his chin on your shoulder. you raise an eyebrow in surprise.
“eh? why would i?”
“because i’m cute.” gojo bats those long eyelashes of his innocently. you roll your eyes playfully before taking another sip out of your soda. 
“you’re weird– that’s what you are.” your lips quirk upward, eyes twinkling with mirth. he sulks, chin still comfortably supported by your shoulder.
“‘m not that bad!” he protests, a frown forming on his lips. you look at him for a long moment. this was the first time you’ve ever gotten to look at gojo this closely. 
his hair was getting longer, you note silently. with your free hand, you slowly move a strand of hair out of his face. gojo watches you earnestly. if his cheeks were not already flushed, they are now. 
“can we stop it with the flirting? let us single folk live in peace.” shoko speaks up. you turn your attention hastily from gojo to the rest of your fellow peers. 
“i feel like i’m intruding on something,” mei mei says scandalously. your eyes widen.
“we are not– no way!” you shake your head repeatedly. no one believes you. especially not while gojo is still resting on your shoulder, eyes watching you, full of love.
“stop giving him all your attention and talk to us! we’re much better company,” utahime scowls, pointing her beer disapprovingly at the white haired boy on you. you think you hear gojo grunt.
“alright, alright,” you concede. 
“i hope you don’t mind me asking again, but do tell us how your night with the zen’in kid went,” suguru snickers. you groan exasperatedly.
“where do i even start?”
the rest of the night goes by pleasantly. you had been so engrossed with retelling your experience with dealing with your family that you had failed to notice what gojo was up to. by the time everyone left their respective dorms (or temporary dorms), you noticed the head of white hair sleeping soundly on your lap.
he mumbles something in his sleep, nuzzling himself closer into your stomach. cute. you giggle at how innocent he looks. 
you don’t know what took over you, but you remember bending down and placing a soft kiss on his forehead. to your surprise, gojo reciprocates your kiss. to the best of his capabilities anyway. you watch as he puckers his lips in his sleep. oh my– how precious.
you suppose he isn't so bad.
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notes. THANK U FOR BEING MY FIRST ANON ASK. ily!!! i saw somewhere that gege confirmed gojo would have drunken failures when he was a student haha this is my take on that. hes so bf
also thank you for all the support on my first post?!? you guys are too sweet im crying. i literally giggle and kick my feet reading your feedback ><
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natriae · 4 months ago
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part 1
honestly this could be read alone
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Osamu watched as his brother angrily walked out of his restaurant. It was obvious that this wasn’t Atsumu’s standard victim pout he did to get attention. This was his ‘fuck, i just fucked something up so badly that even i know it’. Rare for Atsumu but not new. Osamu, however, is quickly distracted by your trembling body as you run to the bathroom. What the fuck did he do now?
Suna glances at Osamu as his body turns back around towards the front door. The silent interaction doesn’t go unnoticed by the other boys, but they know better than to interfere. Quickly excusing himself, Osamu exits the front door to find his brother crouched on the side of the building with his head in his hands. There was one thing Osamu told his brother when he first introduced you too. You simply were just another loyal patron to his establishment, but he saw how his brother looked at you. After you had left, Osamu made it very clear that Atsumu was not to hurt you. You were a sweet girl who did not need to be left crying over his brother. He knew the kind of man Atsumu was. He wasn’t ever there for a long time. All he wanted was a good one, but the way Atsumu's eyes watched you thank Osamu for delivering your food had a look of childlike innocence that Osamu had only seen in Atsumu’s first love.
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Back in the restaurant the boys had their own conversation about what was possibly happening. Not realizing how thin the walls were to the bathroom. Your sobs had quieted down and you were sure you were ready to head back out and pretend that none of this ever happened. While grabbing the handle you hear the soft talk of Sunarin’s voice, “You know I surprisingly had hope he wouldn’t fuck this one up too. I mean she really isn’t his type, but I don’t know maybe he wanted to try something new.”
“Rin knock it off, that's not nice,” Kita quickly responds, but all you can hear is the low chuckle of Suna’s laugh. What did he mean? Were you really not Atsumu’s type at all? It wouldn’t be the first time you had heard this, but hearing it from someone that Atsumu sees as a brother hurts worse. Your hand slowly reclines back to a position at your side, body falling into the same sync softly sliding down the wall. Your eyes twitch, unable to find the water to cry. It all hurts. Of course it was silly to date him.
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Outside Osamu crouches down next to his brother. Atsumu doesn’t bother looking up, already sensing who was there. The younger twin waits patiently watching the lights switch from red to green down the street. It’s much quieter here than in Tokyo. Most of the city is already asleep and the streets are empty. The occasional sound of another restaurant closing up for the night is loud and clear for the two boys to hear. He watches as Atsumu’s arms fall to rest on his knees and he lifts his head so body leans back to completely rest on the wall. Osamu notices how Atsumu patiently waits for him to scold him. For him to immediately question what the hell he did. To possibly pick a fight this late in the night, but none of that comes. Life’s different now, and they both know now that some situations can’t be solved by bickering. He’s grateful his brother can read him well enough that he knows he regrets what happened without having to say it.
“I messed up ‘samu. Just like ya said I would,” Atsumu states, looking to the ground. Too ashamed to look at his brother. If there's one thing Atsumu has had to learn to control while growing up, it’s his ego, and he’s constantly being tested by the universe to see if he finally learned better. Yet here he is once again ruining something that was good for him all because he got defensive. He wasn’t thinking. Something he’s really good at. It was a cheap shot that he deeply regrets.
“I neva said ya were gonna to mess up,” Osamu sighs, watching his brother’s face for a twitch of emotion, “I wanned ta make sure ‘ou were gonna go into this for the right reasons. I’ve watched ya crash and burn far too much. I just want ya to be happy.” Osamu finishes. Calmly watching his brother he notices Atsumu's face go through several emotions.
Eventually the elder twin settles on, “what should i do ‘samu?” the look on his face resembling one of a kicked puppy. It hurts Osamu to see his brother like this. He can even remember the last time Atsumu came to him for advice, but here he is looking like a lost little boy who wants his mother.
“do what y're good at,'' Osamu lightly chuckles, “talk ta her, dude,” is all he says before he gets up and walks back into Onigiri Miya. Atsumu is left with his thoughts for a little bit longer before he gets up and watches the scene from the front window.
He leans against the wall and watches Osamu wave his arm up, motioning the small party to follow him to his apartment. He can't hear what they are saying, but based on Osamu's face he knows there's no room for anyone to question.
Walking back into the empty restaurant he slowly locks the door worrying about the inevitable. His brother's restaurant is a mess. There are streamers everywhere, some ripped from where they were taped to the wall. Plastic cups litter the tables who's chairs have been stacked away in the back to make more space. His eyes finally land on the bathroom door where you hide.
His heart feels like it's tearing itself in two. Something he hasn't felt in years, but he's older now and he won't lose you. When his grandma passed back then Atsumu covered his pain with what he thought was love. Yet it always ended the same, with his brother drinking away till he passed out. However, he was okay with losing them. It was almost a pain he wanted to feel for not grieving his grandmother like he should have. A torment he thought he deserved.
Then he met you. When he learned you've never been in a relationship, nor a situationship, he felt as though it was a gift from his ancestors. A way for him to learn that he does deserve happiness, but he never thought about the many tests it would come with. He's old enough now to stop running from his problems. You were perfect for him. He wasn't going to lose you now.
“y/n” he says quietly while knocking on the bathroom door, “y/n please open up, please” he begs. There's a small shuffling on the other side that's just enough to keep his thoughts from spiraling further. He takes a deep breath before going up to knock again. As his hand raises, he hears the door click signaling you've unlocked it.
You’ve opened the door just enough to be able to see him. Not fully exiting. “what?” you question softly. Your throat dry from the constant tears. You're careful in noticing how his face morphs into multiple emotions seemingly fighting with his brain and heart.
“please come out, will ya,” he begs once more, hand reaching out for yours. He pulls his bottom lip in as he takes a deep breath. It’s as though the man before you is made of glass - for you to see all of him, and you’ll take it. Even if it is far too late.
Finally stepping out of the bathroom Atsumu is left to see your flushed face obviously reddened by the constant wiping of tears. He swears his heart shattered further. He needs to explain, but his mouth simply won't open, so he gestures to the booth where it all began.
Your miind finally has time to recognize the pounding headache overtaking your body. Hardly allowing you to recognize that the shop is completely empty. Atsumu sits down first then you follow in suit on the opposite side. Resting your eyes for a moment you don't realize that Atsumu has already grabbed you a glass of water for your headache. You politely thank him and take a sip. Your brain and body immediately relaxing at the sign of water.
“I want to ask for you to be patient with me, but I don’t deserve it—” Atsumu starts quietly.
“‘sumu—”
“no, please let me say it all before m’ ego gets in the way,” his face slowly lifts and his eyes go searching for yours. Once they catch he immediately looks away. Not once in this relationship have you seen Atsumu so unconfident. He always walked into every situation with a level of confidence you could only wish to achieve. From day one, he took charge. Always guiding you, being there for you, and all around keeping you safe, but it was obvious sometimes it became too much for even him to keep up with. He'd break down when you weren't around and walk out with a mask.
He knew there were a lot of first for you when this relationship started, and the way he approached all of them made you feel loved. A rare feeling that made you love him all the more. He never out right showed his inner turmoil. Which is why today came as such a shock, but with the way his eyes glossed over and his hands shook you figured today might be the day he finally opens up. “I'm sorry y/n. I really really am,” he says, voice cracking towards the end. He takes a deep breath before continuing, “ I shouldn't ‘ave snapped at ya,” he lets out a sound similar to scoff, yet also laughing at himself, “ I- I've never been good at communicating my feelings very well,” this makes you laugh. No shit.
“ I know, it's obvious, but there was one thing ya should know. I made a promise to m’self, ‘samu, and even my ma. That's how ya know it's serious. From the moment I met ya… I knew ‘ou were the one. I'm not entirely sure how ta explain it, but I wanted no one but y’u, and when ya left this very restaurant. I ran ta Osamu ta ask about y’u, so ya can imagine my disappointment when he said y’u were quiet and all he knew was your order,” He smiles back at the thought, “I- I don't mean i was disappointed ya were quiet by the way,” he rushes out making you smile. You nod your head telling him to continue.
“That day while I was still tryna to understand these new feelings I eventually made a promise to m’self… Y’u were going to be mine, but I told m’self that I will make ya the happiest person on earth. Whatever it takes, and when I finally told ‘samu I was gonna ask ya out. He stared me directly in the eye and said ‘’tsumu ya break her heart i'll kill ya’ and that's when I knew for sure y’u were a gift ta me.” Atsumu’s eyes glass over before he continues, “Ya know, when ya first met my ma she said ta me ‘’honey, she’s a nice girl. Be nice.’ and I know that doesn’t sound like a lot, but I know my ma was never proud of my decisions especially when it came ta love. I was stubborn and I would always flee the minute things got difficult, and If i’m being honest I think it was a way to distract myself from all the pain I held in.
My shithead dad left when I was young, so when times got hard on my ma ‘Samu and I would go to my grandma’s.” A tear falls down his face and his leg begins to bounce under the table, “She was an amazing woman, and I’d spent a lot of time with her. I will not lie she was quite the gossip so there were a lot of things I shouldn’t have known…but I did. I knew that my ma just wanted to be loved, and I think from a young age I took that duty upon m’self. To make sure she knew she was loved, and my grandma was proud of me for that.
So, when my grandma passed I started college I figured I didn’t have time to grieve her and I spent a lot of time drownin’ out my sorrows with… sex.” He pauses for a moment, “ I-I noticed how happy it made me, and I figured I’m making these girls feel loved so I must be doing something right, but then things got messy. I spiraled and I swore it off when I got into MSBY, but then I met y’u.
I swear it was like my grandma placed ya here to knock me back into place. She always told me I would make an amazing husband and for some reason that day I met y’u I was reminded of that. I didn’t even know who ya were, but I knew deep down that y’u weren’t just anyone… I never told ya this, but I did start going to therapy after I met ya, and everything and every way I have reacted was genuine, but being here, with everyone, I think I knew ya would start ta see that old side of me that I tried so hard to bury, and I got scared…” by now the tears fall freely down his face, but he refuses to completely break. He’s always had to be the man of the house, but he needs to know that he’s allowed to show his emotions as well. That’s a lot of responsibility for a young boy.
Getting up from your seat, new tears fall from your face as you walk around to the same bench Atsumu sits on. Wrapping your arms around his frame you hold his head to your chest, and he breaks. He cries and his shoulders shake as he lets out the pain of the last several years.
It was obvious since the moment you met him that he was soft on the inside. He’s lost himself over the years like many have, but you’re glad he’s starting to pick up those pieces and put them back together. You squeeze him a little tighter before finally speaking up, “‘Tsumu…thank you for telling me all this. I was in my head a lot. I’m always in my head a lot,” you giggle, still holding him close, “If we want this to work we need to communicate,” you whispered for only him to hear. His head softly nods before he lifts his head up.
“What were ya gonna ask me before?” he whispers back.
You lean closer to him, your noses almost touching. Taking a deep breath you begin, “From the stories, and especially the things Suna was saying I was really beating myself up about how many relationships you’ve had. It’s stupid, It’s just jealousy.” you say, shaking your head.
“No, you’re allowed to feel that way. If we were switched I’d probably be in ma head about it too.” he attempts to calm you down. His hands move to hold yours, squeezing them to let you know that this is real.
“Sometimes I get really upset when I think about…maybe you had girlfriends with sexier bodies than me,” his head shakes, “ or maybe it’s a burden that I don’t always know what I’m doing, like when we kiss,” you finish, his head falls at your statement, but his hands never leaves yours. Now he understands why his statement before was so hurtful. Why can’t he just think about others for once?
You shake his hands to bring his attention back to you, “please don’t beat yourself up over it,” you beg.
He takes a deep breath before bringing one of your hands to his face so he can kiss it. “I hate that I hurt ya, but please do not ever compare yourself to anyone in my past. There’s a reason they’re in the past. Y’u are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Trust me I’ve seen a lotta woman,” He jokes. At that you lightly smack his arm. “I’m kidding, but seriously you are special, and I love you,” He brings your body close, holding you tight to his chest. Your hearts beating as one.
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IT WORKED!!!
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