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sleepy-steve · 2 months ago

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pt 2 of steve "dies but doesn't stay dead" harrington and eddie "ferryman of the river styx" munson // 1.9k // pt 1 ♡

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november 1984

Eddie checks. Of course he checks. Asks around, eventually to his superiors to make sure he wasn’t going to get in trouble for not collecting Steve. It’s uncommon, they tell him, rare, even. But not unheard of. People die briefly and come back to life. Usually only the one time. The answer should be good enough. Should be. Isn’t though. It frustrates Eddie to no end. Months of wondering and ruminating with the firm belief that he won’t get to see Harrington again anytime soon to ask.

He doesn’t have to wait long.

This time Eddie is on the boat. Leaning over the edge, a hand dangling low to the black water, staring at the same patch of grass he first saw Steve sitting. In fairness, all souls appeared in that general area. But Eddie is fixated on the exact spot Steve had shown off his deep chest wounds. It’s for this reason that Eddie jumps three feet into the air when Steve materialises in the same spot again less than a year later.

Sitting up with a rattling gasp and a look of fury on his bashed-in face—again?! Eddie briefly thinks—Steve yells, “Fucking Hargrove!”

“Christ, Harrington!” Eddie shouts, hand over his chest despite the distinct lack of heartbeat. “Could give a guy a bit of warning.”

Steve looks around, eyes surrounded by more dark bruising taking a second to focus on Eddie, chest heaving as he calms down. “Shit, sorry, man.”

They just look at each other for a few long moments, Eddie standing like a frightened cat on his still wobbling boat. He clears his throat to break the silence. “Who, uh. Who’s Hargrove?”

Scoffing, Steve drags a hand down the side of his face, then winces as it passes over bruising. “Douchebag new guy.” He sighs, settling his forearms on his knees. “His sister is friends with some kids I know. Was coming after them, so I…” Trailing off, Steve gestures to his face.

“What? Offered yourself up as a human punching bag and got yourself killed? Again?” Eddie says, trying not to sound too judgemental.

“Yeah, well,” Steve sighs. “I wasn’t just gonna let him beat up a kid. They’ve been through enough without some dickhead coming in and kicking the shit out of them.”

Eddie feels his brows pull together slightly as he sits back down on the bench of the boat, arms crossed over the edge. It’s not like Harrington was the big bully of Hawkins High, but defender of local kids is… new. “Sounds like a grade-A asshole.”

Steve snorts. “He is.”

“Kids were lucky to have you around as their… babysitter?” Eddie offers, cracking a grin.

Steve rolls his eyes, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Something like that. Probably didn’t need me at all. Stuck around long enough to see her drug him, so they should be fine.”

Humming appreciatively, a thought moves across Eddie’s mind, and he can’t help himself. “…No monsters this time?”

“Ha, ha,” Steve rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I know you don’t believe me, but the monsters did actually come back, which is why I was with those little shits in the first place.” He sounds annoyed, but there’s a fond look behind those bruised eyes. One that gives Eddie a little spark in his chest. “But no, this death was just a regular guy.”

It’s Eddie’s turn to snort. “This death. So casual.”

A full grin breaks out on Steve’s face, contrasting heavily with the bruises and the blood under his nose. “Well, when it’s happened this many times, kinda hard not to view it as like. Just this thing that happens, y’know?”

Eddie doesn’t really know. Of everything he’s learnt about death—through his own and through everyone he’s met since—this thing Steve goes through is beyond him. Incomprehensible. He nods anyway.

“How many times have you died, Harrington?”

“Hmm…” Steve looks up as he thinks for a moment. “This would be… five? Or six?” He shrugs. “I’m not sure if it happened when I was a baby.”

He says it so casually, so matter-of-fact, Eddie almost wants to double-take. It sounds so truthful, he struggles to not believe him. Even though Eddie knows he’s not losing much by believing him, a small part of him still has doubts. And worries for his job. “You gonna get in the boat this time?”

Steve snorts. “Not this time, buddy.” Something jolts in Eddie’s chest at the familiarity. “Maybe next time though.”

“Next time,” Eddie mutters under his breath, shaking his head. “You anticipate dying again?”

“Well, no,” Steve chuckles. “But based on how things have been… and apparently I’m not too careful.” He gestures at his bruised up face, eyes bright with humour between the blues and purples and reds.

“The monsters?” Eddie supplies, just teetering on the edge of sarcasm.

“Monsters, douchebag guys, car wrecks… you just never know.”

The casual tone in which Steve talks about his deaths still has Eddie reeling. It’s been well over a year and Eddie is surrounded by death constantly, and he still struggles to think about his own. Tells himself he’d rather not dwell, which is true, but it also hurts. He shakes it off, shifting his focus to the bruised and beaten boy in front of him.

“Or… you could save yourself the trouble, and get in the boat now?” Eddie gestures down at his boat with a little hand flair. He’s joking. Mostly. If Steve did have the chance to go back to the land of the living, Eddie didn’t want to take that away from him. Not that he thought Steve was getting that chance. Not completely, anyway.

“Wish I could, but I don’t make the rules.” Steve grins at him, like they’re sharing a secret. And they kind of were. Eddie wasn’t sure how many people knew about Steve’s semi-regular dances with death.

“And since when have you ever been one to stick to the rules?” Eddie asks, propping his arm up and resting his chin on his palm. Looking at the boy on the grass. His hair is longer this time.

Steve laughs, head tilted back. “Fair point. But if you want me on that boat, you’re gonna have to come over here and drag me onto it.” He raises a brow at Eddie in challenge.

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Wish I could, but I don’t make the rules.” He repeats Steve’s words back at him, mocking him.

“Well, well, well,” Steve says, tone playful. “Look who’s being a stickler for rules now.”

“I know,” Eddie drags it out, struggling to hold back his smile. “Crazy, huh? Divine punishment for being born the son of a criminal, I guess.” Eddie’s gaze drops down to the black water beneath him.

Steve scoffs at him. “Like you never smoked pot or broke speeding laws in that van of yours.”

Eyes widening before he can stop them, Eddie’s shocked Steve even knows about the van. Shocked that Steve knows anything about him at all. What world is he in where the king of Hawkins High knows about Eddie and his beat up old van? Even being in the grade below him, Steve had a popularity pull that was noticed by those in Eddie’s grade. Confusion and surprise subsiding, Eddie finds himself leaning forward even further.

“Coming from you?” Eddie challenges back. “We all know about the famous Harrington ragers, Mister Keg King.”

The title makes Steve roll his eyes. “Never saw you at one.”

It was true. Eddie hadn’t attended any of the parties, for fear of his reputation making him a target. He drops his gaze again. “Didn’t think I’d be welcome there.”

Steve doesn’t respond, and the silence grows between them. They haven’t moved, but Eddie feels further away from him. Like the weird little familiarity they’d developed was being forcefully shoved apart. Eddie doesn’t look up to see Steve’s reaction. Doesn’t want the pity.

“So, you really can’t get out of the boat?” Steve breaks the silence with a complete topic change.

“Nope,” Eddie responds, popping the P. “She’s my new baby, now that I don’t have my van.” He pats the side of the boat with his free hand.

Steve shifts forward until he’s sitting as close as he can to the water’s edge without getting wet. Close enough for Eddie to see the broken capillaries under his skin and the little green flecks in his eyes. He takes in the cuts on Steve’s jaw and forehead, the two black eyes, the blood under his nose. The way his knuckles are bruised and bloodied to match. Something in Eddie feels oddly… protective. Like he wants to jump in front of anything that might hurt this guy he doesn’t even really know that well.

“Change your mind about getting in the boat?” Eddie asks, voice low, now that Steve is so close.

“No,” Steve huffs a laugh. “But you can’t move, so I figured I should.”

“Just that desperate to be close to me, are you?” It slips out of Eddie’s mouth before he can think about it. And Eddie wants to punch himself in the face over it.

But to his surprise, Steve doesn’t recoil away or yell at him. Instead, he laughs softly, cheeks faintly pink beneath the bruising. “What can I say? The allure of your… baby…” He says it with a smirk. “Very tempting.”

Taken aback by Steve’s… flirting is the only word to describe it, but that can’t be right, Eddie immediately switches to joke mode. He won’t entertain the idea that Steve Harrington was honest-to-god flirting with him. He won’t.

“I’ll get you into this boat one day, Harrington. Mark my words.”

He knocks on the edge of the boat twice before smoothing his hand over the wood. Watches as Steve’s eyes follow his hand, seemingly fixated on it. Eddie briefly wonders what would happen if he touched Steve. Would that commit Steve to being stuck here? Commit him to moving on? Would Eddie even be able to feel him?

Gaze shifting back to Eddie’s face, a smile grows on Steve’s face. “Maybe. One day.” He shrugs, like his eventual death is a fun, whimsical topic.

Eddie is about to comment on Steve’s tone, but before he can, Steve’s head whips to the side, hearing something Eddie can’t. Just like last time.

Unlike last time, Steve doesn’t get up right away. “Looks like my time’s up.”

“How do you know?” Eddie is so curious, he can’t help but ask.

“I can hear—” Steve waves vaguely around his ear. “—stuff. From where I am. The kids are yelling. Hope they’re not too freaked out.”

“Guess you better get back then,” Eddie says, trying to hide his disappointment.

“Yep.” Steve pulls himself up into a standing position, now suddenly looking down at Eddie, who leans back on instinct, shifting back on the boat bench. “But I’ll see you next time.”

“I’ll be here.” Eddie gestures at the boat, palm up. Like he has anywhere else to go. “See ya, Harrington. Stay away from monsters.”

“I’ll try,” Steve laughs, walking backwards on the grass. Keeping his eyes on Eddie as he retreats.

“Try not to get that pretty face bashed in again,” Eddie calls after Steve’s already fading form, grinning wide.

Steve just laughs, the sound of it echoing even after his body disappears from Eddie’s sight.

#ohoho they're BACK my friends!!#i've been working on this between my EMBB fic for funsies #but yes there will be More of this too hehe #more of steve being a morbid little shit and more of eddie wondering what the fuck steve's life is #cira writes #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #stranger things fic #steddie

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magicalmanhattanproject · 11 months ago

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Okay, so with Quackity Studios tweeting about adding new people and the need for tolerance and patience with people who don't speak English, let's just take a second and have a chat about what that's gonna look like.

First: you will hear things or read things on the translator that hurt or offend you.

This is inevitable. Do not immediately post about it. What you need tolerance for is hearing things that hurt or offend you and what you need patience for is figuring out of malicious intent was present or if this is a hill worth dying on right now.

As an example, we're pretty sure at this point that Korean is gonna be the next language added. The second person pronoun in Korean sounds a lot like the n-word in English. The n-word in English, if you're not aware, is like the single most offensive slur we have. It's not something that you want to hear unexpectedly. But also, if we get Koreans, they're gonna be using the word for "you" and English speakers are gonna have to be able to tolerate that.

On the other side of things, Korean has a complex system of honorifics and addressing someone without an honorific would be considered very forward and intimate at least if not very rude. None of the QSMP languages have honorifics though and only French really retains formality* so no one else is going to address them with honorifics unless they specifically explain it to people and walk them through it. That will probably be weird and uncomfortable for them and they're going to have to be able to tolerate that.

*Spanish and Portuguese do technically have formal vs informal but it's disappearing quickly in both of them.

These natural cultural clashes and pain points are going to be harder to overcome since we also know that at least some of these creators won't speak English at all so they can't just switch to English to helpfully explain things to us easily in a way we understand. We're going to have to deal.

So here's the thing: just because there can be cultural miscommunications and mistranslations, that doesn't mean that people can't also be assholes. How do you distinguish between the two?

Step One: Assume good faith. Assume that everyone in a given encounter is trying to communicate respectfully and compassionately and that a failure to do so can be overcome

Step Two: Don't get involved. Especially not in Twitch Chat. Two or more people trying to communicate through a language barrier does not get easier when they're also trying to wrangle hostile viewers.

Step Three: Are you sure you heard what you thought you heard or saw what you thought you saw? Did the translator fuck up? Is it a word that just coincidentally happens to sound like another word? If this is the case, the streamers can ask for clarification or use another tool and get it cleared up. Keep watching and see if they do.

Step Four: If they did say what you thought they said, are the streamers handling it? We had a thing a while back where Bad called some friends, including Bagi and Etoiles, uncultured because they didn't get a reference he was making and Etoiles was like "bro I'm French" and Bad apologized. That should have been the end of it, but I had to see people arguing about it for weeks. The problem was solved in 10 seconds.

Step Five: If the person is doubling down, are you sure this is something you can fix by yelling about it on Twitter or Tumblr? Would it be better to let people who actually know them talk to them behind the scenes? Pierre made a few missteps in the beginning of the server, Quackity said they had a chat, Pierre hasn't misstepped since. It's just easier to sort things out in private, one on one conversation than yelling at someone in public.

In short: it's fine to take note of behavior in case patterns start to emerge in it, but yelling on social media about how so and so is the worst person possible is not constructive.

#sorrelposting #qsmp

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alastwhorez · 4 months ago

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Alastor with a mommy kink

♡ Pairing: Human!Alastor x MILF!Reader

♡ Summary: Alastor can't help but want his new neighbor

♡ warnings: 18+, MDNI, breeding kink, mommy kink, pet names, oral, p in v, unprotected sex, Alastor is 23, reading is in late 20s early 30s, Alastor calls reader Ma. Age gap, I think that's it. If I missed anything, please let me know.

♡an: not proofread, probably spelling errors, if you don't like mommy kinks or Al calling reader Ma, or Age gap please do not read.

Thinking about early 20s human Alastor with a mommy kink..

You just moved next door with your kids right beside Alastor and his mama.

Alastor helped you move in observing that there was no man with you, he offered to help which you graciously accepted. His mama invited you and the kids over for dinner that evening saying “it's so nice to have children around again now that Al is all grown up” as she pinches the taller male's cheek. Alastor rolled his eyes at his mom's actions trying to cover up the blush rising to his cheeks. He may be “all grown up” as she says but he is still a mama's boy and always will be.

After dinner you help clear the table and do dishes with Alastor as his mama plays with the children in the living room. You fall into a comfortable silence before Al breaks it “so where's your husband?” You look at him and smile before telling him you don't have one. Al hides his smirk from you. in all honesty he didn't offer to help you trying to be neighborly or a gentleman. He offered because of the heat he felt seeing you mother your kids.

Over the next few weeks Al is always there. He is there when you need help putting something together, someone to go to the grocery store with and even when you need someone to kill the pesky little bugs when you are too scared. His mama started babysitting for you as you wanted to find a job. Living Off of you savings wasn't going to last forever. And Al was there for all of it.

Over the weeks Al noticed the heat he would feel intensifies everytime he sees you mothering your kids but what really got him was when he was over for lunch and you wiped his mouth with your thumb to clean a crumb off his lip. He couldn't deny the tightening in his pants at you doing such motherly things for him. It didn't help that you also wore some frisky outfits for your time and that you weren't that much older than him, in your late twenties to early thirties at most.

The twenty three year old quickly became very obsessive and possessive over you. Scaring away suitors. Always telling you, you don't need a boyfriend, you have him and he is right across the lawn. All you have to do is open a window or stand on your porch and yell and he will be there.

Over the weeks of Alastor being around you couldn't deny your attraction to him. He was a very attractive man, one several women in town are always throwing themselves at but you never see him with a woman. He tells you he has his eyes on someone he just doesn't know how they feel yet. That brings a ting of pain to your heart but you smile at the younger male and tell him anyone would be lucky to have him pinning over them.

looking back you wonder how you got in the situation you are in now. Bent over your kitchen table, dress flipped up over your plush ass, and panties down around your ankles as Alastor is on his knees licking and sucking on any flesh his mouth can find. He parts your folds with his tongue as he licks up you. His hands on your ass spreading you open for him. You try to hold back moans forgetting you don't have to be quiet. His mama has the kids. He was only supposed to be over here for a quick visit. He was dropping off leftovers his mama made. But they were quickly forgotten. Left on the counter.

“Fuck ma, you taste so good” He moans against your cunt. Your mouth falls open in a silent moan at the vibration of his voice. Oh god his voice is another thing about him that attracted you to the younger man. His deep raspy voice with his cute little accent. It could make you wet just hearing him talk, and it has.

you yelp as Alastor lands a slap on your ass then squeeze and massage the red spot. His tongue dips in your entrance As his thumb finds your bundle of nerves and starts to rub. Your legs are shaking, thank fuck your on the table. You Turn around trying to see him. Wanting to see him between your legs. He chuckles and smirks against you, feeling you wiggle. Trying to maneuver your body just try so his mouth stays attached to you.

You scream out his name as he speeds up his thumb and quickens his thrust with his tongue. He's moaning against you as he bites, licks, and sucks everywhere he can reach. You're a moaning mess on your table. You can feel that familiar tingle before it snaps and your jerking,moaning, and screaming “Oh Al, baby” eyes rolling back and back arching. He moans as your juices coat his tongue, swallowing it down like it's his last meal.

You're laying on the table trying to catch your breath when he pulls away and stands to his full height. You hear him undo his belt and unzip his pants. You bite your lip in anticipation. “g-gotta feel you around me ma”

Ma, he started calling you that a week after you met.

You feel him slide himself between your folds, wetting himself in your juices before he slowly slides on, stretching you perfectly. You both moan out at the feeling. He starts slow and shallow before getting confidence and speeding up. He's gripping your hips so hard you know they'll bruise but fuck does it feel good to finally have his hands on you. He fucks you from behind until your about to finish when he pulls out. “No nononono!” You whine right before he flips you onto your back and pulls the dress off the rest of the way.

“You little minx” He says when he sees you weren't wearing a bra. You bite your lip looking up at him. His hands find your thighs and push them apart as he stands between your legs pushing himself back into you.

You grip his shoulders then let your hands slide down to his back when he speeds up, giving you an extra hard thrust. “Feels so good,ma” He whines into your shoulder. “Wanted you for so long”

“M-me too Ala-STOR” you moan when he hits that spot that makes your toes curl. He pulls away from your shoulder and slams his lips onto your, the kiss is hungry, feral. It's all teeth and tongue. You can taste yourself on his lips pulling a moan from you.

He pushed your back onto the table as he lays over you and his thumbs finds your clip. Only a couple of thrust later and your cumming all over his cock, begging him your not exactly sure what your begging for pleas fall from your lips

“Fuck, fuck ,FUCK” He says as he puts his face in your shoulder biting and licking your neck.

“Gotta-gotta cum in you ma, make you a mommy again”

“Yes! Yes Al” you beg as you feel another orgasm approaching.

Alastor grabs your tits, “gotta see these Full and round” He says before sucking on into his mouth. Three more thrust is all it takes before he is shooting Ropes of cum into your heat, hips stuttering, his eyes rolling back, and moans falling from his lips. You cum for the nth time seeing Alastor so blissed out,tightening around his cock, milking him for everything he is worth.

You both lay there for several minutes catching your breath. He pulls out a few seconds later but replaces his cock with his fingers pulling a moan from you. “Gotta make sure nothing goes to waste” He says right before fixing his glasses that are now all fogged up. He smiles down at you, helping you up before picking you up bridal style and carrying you to your bathroom.

He runs you a bath, both of you sitting in It, your back against his chest. He is peppering kisses all over your shoulder. He stays with you till nightfall when his mama yells for him to come home and that your kids are on their way back over.

He kisses your lips one more time after your kids run through the door.

“Same time tomorrow, ma?” He says, smirking down at you and then winking before heading back to his mama.

#alastor #human alastor x reader #human alastor #human alastor x you #human alastor x y/n #alastor x you #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin alastor #♡~mazie is talking~♡#🦌~alastwhorez~🦌

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f1smutwriter · 4 months ago

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| 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐔𝐬 (𝐜𝐥𝟏𝟔, 𝐥𝐧𝟒)

Dom!Charles x Dom!Lando x inexperienced!Reader

Pt1, Pt2

Summary: when Charles needed some help to explain what other sexual thing he could do to his girlfriend.

Warning:SMUT!, threesome, oral (fem and male), anal, dirty talk, mention of different kinks, praising, degrading, orgasm control, fingering, overstimulation, edging, sex toys, dom/sub situation, needy reader, begging kink, a lot of foreplay, voyeurism kink, spanking (ass, and clit), slight BDSM, hair pulling, spitting, extreme mean Charles, and more that I probably missed

Notes: Part 3 and omg Charles and lando threesome been on my list of books. So what better not then to freaking do it with this small series. Please if you want more series just asked and I will deliver. Hope you enjoy!!

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As I get ready for a little dinner with Charles and his friends, he told me to dress nice. Then I see him come in the room with a box making me looking at him weird. “What is that” I asked putting earrings making him smirk at me. But not any smirk, it was your in trouble smirk making me feel a bit nervous. "You know how we said we were gonna be more open to sexual things" He said as I nod before looking at him.

"Do you trust me" He whispered in my ear making me nod instantly. He takes out a pair of panties, giving them to me while I look at him completely confused. “I already have panties on” I reminded him causing him to smirk. “Just take those off. These are better” He grumbled grabbing my waist and pulling me close to his body. I do what he wanted placing the panties I had on, on the table before he grabbed me and kissed my neck. “Today is gonna be so much fun. You’re gonna love it Ma chérie” He whispered nibbling on my neck while I put the new pair of panties on.

We finished getting ready, and went to the car. He opened the door for me, feeling myself blush. “Thank you baby” I say softly while I go into the car. “You’re welcome princess” He smirked while closing my door. He sat down on the drivers side holding my thigh. “Ready for this extremely boring dinner” He says dramatically while squeezing my thigh but something was off. He was wearing his smirk that was only around when he showed me stuff.

“Why are you smiling like that” I asked him making him snort out as if he knew something I didn’t. “No reason Mon amour just excited that’s all” he whispered as he drives to the place with his hand on my thigh rubbing it once in a while. I just ignored his smirk and continued to look out the window. Until I feel something vibrate against my pussy causing a gasp to leave my lips. “W-what is that” I moaned gripping his arm.

“Called vibrating panties and I have the control to them” He smirked making the settings go higher. I moaned loudly feeling the vibrations go directly on my clit, I squeeze my eyes shut and let the feeling take over. “So sensitive huh baby. Is it making your pretty pussy feel good" He mocked me feeling myself nod without a second thought. He stopped it letting me take a breather for a few minutes. He turned on the cold air since he saw me flushed and sweating. He started chuckling putting his hand back on my thigh like nothing happened. But I was soaking my panties praying it wouldn't leak to my dress.

"Were here" He smiled trying to act all innocent like he didn't just do the most evil thing ever. He gave the keys to the Valet and opened my door helping me out. All you could hear is people yelling for him and cameras flashing trying to ask questions. "Ready baby" He asked lovingly kissing my head. "Ready" I whispered the paparazzi still getting me a bit nervous. We made our way to the building his hand on the lower back guiding me through the crowd.

We went inside and go towards our table where all our friends were. I sat in the middle of Charle and Lando. About 30 minutes into the dinner I feel the vibrations on my clit making gasp. I looked at Charles with a shocked face since it was on full blast. "Y/n are you okay" Kika asked Pierres girlfriend and one of my best friends out of all of the wags, well her and Lily. "Yeah I-i'm okay" I stuttered trying to talk normal. Charles leaned into me whispering into my ear. "You think that's me love. It came with two controls, try to find out who has the second one" He smirked kissing my head.

I bite my tongue trying not to moan out loud and embarrass myself. All of a sudden I heard a snicker next to me, making me turn and see Lando biting his lip to not laugh hard. Then I hear Charles chuckle lowly finally connecting the dots. “You got Lando in on this” I whimpered as Lando turned the vibrator on once again. “I told you we were gonna teach you did I not” he smiled as he moves his hand under the table and slips two fingers into my panties.

Lando looked down watching Charles fingers slip into my tight hole. I bite my lip gripping landos thigh trying my hardest to hold in a loud moan. “Y/n are you sure you’re good” Kika asked again making sure everything was okay. “Yes I’m sure just my stomach it’s been hurting” I say lying through my teeth so she didn’t know what was going on under the table. “I can take you home Mon amour it’s not a big deal” Charles acts worried like he was the one doing all of this to me. “Yeah you should take her home she does not look well” Pierre says concerned about my healthy. He slips his fingers out of me, causing me to let go of Landos leg.

Charles gave Lando a small nod telling him to come with us. “Yeah I should get going to it’s getting late and I have some stuff to do with max tomorrow for a new video” Lando lied making everyone say bye to all three of us. “You better pray sweet girl because we’re not going easy” Lando whispered seductively in my ear causing me to gasp out.

On the drive home it was quiet, maybe a little too quiet. I was in the back seat while Lando and Charles were in the front checking on me through the mirror. "Tu vas bien là-bas Mon cher" Charles asked me softly causing me to nod my head yes. "Your gonna have so much fun okay, don't worry your pretty head" He reassured me putting his hand on my thigh. (Are you okay back there my dear)

I felt the car stop causing me to shiver a little bit knowing what’s gonna happen next. They both turn with their famous smirks on their face. “Ready baby” Charles whispered softly making me blush at his thick accent. “Yeah” I whispered looking down at my lap feeling a bit nervous. Lando opens my door helping me out, I grab onto his hand getting out. I smiled as I feel both of their hands on my waist holding me. I get lead up the stairs to mine and Charles bedroom. “Your heart is beating so fast princess. Are you nervous” Lando whispered in my ear feeling my panties getting soaked.

“No she’s not nervous, she’s horny” Charles smirked leading me upstairs. He opened the door holding me and pushing me on the bed. I whimpered slightly squeezing my thighs together. “What’s wrong darling is your pussy needy” lando teased rubbing my thighs softly making me open my legs wide. “No none of that, you know I don’t like when your a needy slut” Charles said sternly with his eye brow raised. “I’m sorry” I whimpered squeezing my thighs shut releasing some pressure from my went cunt.

“There’s my good girl” Charles said rubbing my body softly feeling myself lean in more. He kissed me softly holding my hair. I whimpered in the kiss as he starts getting more aggressive slipping his tongue in my mouth. I tried to keep up with his pace but I couldn’t which caused him to laugh a little bit at me. “Is my girl trying to keep up” he whispered in my neck as he gives it slightly kisses.

“Stop your being mean” I blushed bright red looking down at my lap. He just snickered at me with his eyes filled with pure lust. “Baby I’m not being mean, but if that’s what you want I’ll be meaner” he whispered with the most raspy voice I’ve heard. I whimpered the second I heard it, causing me to look at him and Lando.

“Aww are you wet, did he make you wet darling” Lando teased rubbing my thighs softly. He slowly massaged my thighs making me whimper. His hand slowly moved up to my pussy. Once his fingers made contact with my soaking panties he groaned rubbing them softly, giving me the tiniest bit of friction. I whined bucking my hips making Charles give me that look that says ‘behave’.

Lando went on his knees in front of me kissing my thighs gently. I looked down at him as he was leaving sloppy kisses all the way up to my core. He looked up at me to ask if he could take it off making me nod frantically. He chuckled softly taking off my panties looking at my pussy properly. “You have such a pretty pussy darling” he whispered to me his hot breath so close to it. Before I could answer he took a large strip from my hole to my clit making me moan. He started eating me out like he’s been doing it to me for years.

I moaned going to grip his hair but knowing the rules I had to ask permission. “Please may I touch you” I moaned as he sucked my clit as I tried to get my sentence out. He hummed against me holding my thighs tight to make sure I didn’t move away from his mouth. I cried out gripping his dark brown curls, my head thrown back in pure white hot pleasure from his skilled tongue. You could easily tell Lando has done this multiple times just by the way he was doing it.

I whined out getting so close to my orgasm and Charles knew by the way I was whining, so he immediately grabbed lando by the hair and pull him away from my pussy. “Mate what are you doing” Lando said a bit frustrated that he didn’t make me cum. “She’s close and she doesn’t deserve it yet” Charles explained making me whine out needing to cum. He gave me that scary look again causing me to behave in an instant. “Should he finger that pretty pussy I love Mon amour” He whispered in my ear before slapping my clit harshly, I whined from the slight stinging sensation. All I did was nod stupidly slowly getting dumber and dumber by the minute.

“Sweet baby is getting so dumb for us huh, drooling like a dumb girl” he mocked in a mean voice while I whined in protest. He just chuckled and told Lando to finger my pussy good. I gasped all the air out of my lungs when Lando slammed two of his thick fingers in my tight hole. It was the most toe curling pleasure I’ve felt in days. I screamed out as he fingered my tight hole fast and quick like it was his job. I tried to grab his wrist to slow him down but, Charles slapped my clit once more to stop me.

“Stop before you don’t get to cum the rest of the night” he warned causing me to whined loudly to him leaving my hands to the side. I felt that familiar knot in my stomach I feel all the time. “Close, please let me cum” I cried out as Lando’s fingers showed me no mercy. Once I said I was close he went even fast which I didn’t know it was possible but it was with Lando’s hand. “I don’t know Charles should we let her cum. Has she deserved it” Lando teased as he curled his fingers hitting my g-spot perfectly.

“Probably not but should we just let her” Charles mocked back with that same smirk on his face. That smirk meant I wasn’t gonna cum not anytime soon. “No she shouldn’t” Lando says pulling his fingers out causing me to cry out even more. My eyes filled with tears from the denial of my orgasms, my body shaking from the pleasure and slight pain. “It’s okay chérie wanna know why” Charles grinned biting his lip looking at my fucked out body. “W-why” I mumbled feeling so tired to even talk.

“Because we’re gonna fuck you now. Want that, want me and lando to fill both of your tight holes” he teased pulling my hair so I could look up at him. All I did was nod before laying my head down gently. He took out the lube and a vibrator which I knew they were gonna torture me with. “Go easy on her. This is her first time doing anal” Charles mentioned looking at lando with a stern look.

“Don’t worry mate she’s in good hand” Lando chuckled with his British accent getting more apparent. He slowly put lube on his fingers on my puckered hole, before slowly pushing in one finger in. I whimpered at the new feeling I felt, I clenched right away trying to get used to it. “Relax darling it’ll get better soon” he whispered slowly scissoring it to stretch it out just right to fit all of him. He gently pushed in a second finger making me cry out in slight pain, all Charles did was shush me watching the whole entire thing.

“Think she’s good” Lando whispered before undo this belt and pulling down his pants. Charles did the same thing making me drool at the sight of their big cocks. Charles saw me staring at him get undressed so he put his cock closer to my lips. “Go ahead baby” he encouraged me causing my lips to wrap around his pink tip. He groaned the second he felt my tongue on him. “Just a taste” he grunted before pulling it out of my mouth. He looked at lando telling him to go ahead, so he gently rubbed lube all over his thick cock.

He positioned his tip to my hole before pushing in slowly. I gasped loudly at the slight discomfort I felt. Once he bottomed out he whispered sweet nothings to me to get my mind off the pain. “Ready baby I’m gonna go next” Charles tells me softly before pushing his cock into my tight cunt, all I did was gasp and hide into his chest feeling full to the brim.

They both started moving together gently so they didn’t hurt me. I gasped at the feeling go two cocks fucking me causing them to go harder. “Does that feel good baby. Do you like having to cocks stuffed in you” Charles grunted fucking me harder, but all I did was moan to him. I felt so light head it was unbearable pleasure I was feeling. Lando smirked giving Charles the vibrator while I wasn’t looking. He turned it on and put it directly on my clit. I screamed out in tears of pleasure, feeling the bubbling sensation in my stomach.

“Gonna cum please can’t hold it” I sobbed feeling so close to the edge that I might pass out. “Not yet you don’t get to cum. Wait for lando and I’ll let you” Charles whispered to me feeling myself nod frantically at his words. I heard Lando moaned lowly feeling his orgasm getting closer and closer each thrust he took. I clenched around him as he moaned in my neck. “Fuck I’m gonna cum” he grunted thrusting in and out faster and faster.

Out of nowhere he moaned stuffing my hole with his hot cum. He groaned riding out his orgasm a few more seconds more. I looked at Charles pleading to see what he’d say and all he did was nod telling me it was okay. I gasped out moaning loudly cumming all over his cock throwing my head back into Lando’s chest. I whimpered when he stuffed my cunt with his got seed making sure it went in deep. I laid down lifeless from the intense orgasm I just had. “You okay baby girl” Lando mumbled in my neck as Charles went to go get towels and water.

My legs were trembling when Charles came back and cleaned us up. “You staying” he whispered to Lando softly cleaning him up. “I don’t want to bother you guys” he mumbled getting up but I whined loudly pouting up at him. “Please stay want you to cuddle with me and cha” I whimpered in his neck, he looked at Charles and he nodded yes. Charles kissed Lando’s head before going behind me and hold Lando and I. That night I was cuddled til we all fell asleep from an intense night of pleasure.

——————————————————————————————————————————————————

Notes: I’m so sorry guys I didn’t mean to leave you guys for 3 WHOLE MONTHS. I promise I’ll post more, and maybe do a little serious for Halloween. I wanted to try kinktober but I’m a bit scared but we’ll see. Anyways I hope you guys all enjoyed this little series and I’ll make sure to do more just request it they are always open. Anyways have a good day loveys see you soon <3

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #f1 smut #formula 1 smut #charles leclerc smut #lando norris f1 #lando norris fanfic #lando norris smut #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x reader #lando norris x oc #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc f1 #f1 fic #charles leclerc blurb

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itneverendshere · 3 months ago

Note

hi again! so I've been meaning to send a request, but before i go about it I wish to say it's completely okay if you're not inspired by this, or if you simply don't want to write it, i would hate myself if I made you overwhelmed or smth. love you anyways 💕 so for the request: reader who's autistic. she's not very talkative nor socially active, never had a boyfriend, has one or two friends, yet somehow rafe notices her and finds her endearing. she's okay being herself with her friends, like she's funny, kind and passionate about her interests (like geek stuff, fantasy books, animals and such). she has zero flirting experience and is always dismissive towards rafe bc she doesn't think someone could like her romantically, and she's always suspicious of people bc they've wronged her in the past (in my experience as an autistic person i tend to believe everything ppl say and am kinda naive, so ppl played me or said unrealistic things and I believed them, which then is a reason for laughter, now I'm always suspicious to ppl's intentions). I'm giving you creative freedom with this, just wanted an autistic reader for once :) if you feel like writing it but need to know more abt autism, you can just post question and I'll answer in your asks, if that's okay. Just a reminder again before I go: feel free to decline this request, I know it might not be something cool to write and that's okay ☺️ love you lots, thank you for your time!

i tried my best, hope you like it 🫶🏼 and if you don't lmk so i can do better!! this was really fun since it's a compeltely new topic of inspiration. kinda left an "open" ending bc i couldn't make my mind up lmao. thank you for the resquest and sorry it took me a while to finally do it 🫂

got dreams but i can't make myself believe them - r.c

paring: rafe x autistic!reader word count: 6.9k

The party was a mistake. You knew it the moment you walked in, the thumping music and crush of people making your skin crawl. Your friends had been relentless, insisting that you needed to “get out more” and “live a little,” despite your repeated attempts to explain that “getting out” meant something different to you.

But somehow, you’d caved, and now you were standing awkwardly in the corner of a stranger’s living room, clutching your book like it was a life vest. You needed to stop letting them drag you everywhere.

It was the typical college party scene, at least the one's you'd heard or read about before. Red solo cups everywhere, groups of people huddled on couches or pressed together on the so called dance floor, and a few already-drunk guys yelling loudly in the kitchen.

This was supposed to be fun?

“Just stay for an hour,” they said. “If it’s really that bad, you can leave.”

Right. Except an hour felt like an eternity when you were trapped in a sensory nightmare. You took a deep breath, scanning the crowded room. There were people everywhere—laughing, dancing, chattering loudly in clumps—and the noise was a constant, overwhelming buzz in your ears.

This was definitely a mistake.

So, you did what you always did in these situations: you found a place to hide. After walking through the drunk college students, you eventually ended up on quiet nook near the back of the house. It was a small room, probably some sort of den or study. Blessedly, it was empty. With a sigh of relief, you settled into an oversized armchair, opened your book, and let the world outside your pages melt away.

Time slipped by as you read, the noise of the party changing into a distant hum. You were so engrossed that you didn’t even notice when someone stumbled into the room until a loud crash jolted you out of your fictional word. He nearly tripped over his own feet, catching himself at the last second with a slurred, “Shit.”

You looked up to find a guy standing unsteadily in the doorway, blinking blearily at you. He was tall, with tousled hair and a loose, easy grin that spoke of far too many drinks. His eyes were a striking blue even in the low light, and it took you a second to place him.

Rafe Cameron.

Oh, God. You knew him—well, of him, at least. He was in your sociology class, always sitting a few rows behind you with his gaggle of equally charming friends. He’d never spoken to you before, though, and you’d never had a reason to pay him much attention.

Until now.

Then his face split into a lazy grin, and he swaggered—no, stumbled—into the room, somehow managing to make even that look effortless.

“Heyyy,” he drawled, leaning heavily against the arm of the chair across from you. “It’s… it’s you.”

You blinked at him. “Me?”

“Yeah,” he slurred, squinting like he was trying to see you clearly. “T-The girl from my class. The quiet one.”

Your stomach did a weird flip, part confusion, part disbelief. “Okay?”

“Yeah.” He nodded sagely, as if you’d just confirmed some great truth. “You’re the uh, the smart one. With the books.” He gestured vaguely at the one in your hands. “Always sittin’ up front, all… all cute n'shit.”

Your cheeks burned. Was he seriously calling you cute? No. He was drunk—really drunk. He probably didn’t even know what he was saying.

“Do you need help?” you asked cautiously. “You look—”

“I’m fine,” he cut you off, straightening up as if to prove it, though the effect was somewhat ruined by the way he swayed on his feet. “Needed to get away from those idiots out there. Too many people.”

You almost laughed. Rafe Cameron, overwhelmed by people? The guy who was always surrounded by friends, girls practically draped over him like accessories? But he looked sincere—well, as sincere as a drunk person could look.

“Why don’t you sit down?” you suggested, gesturing to the empty chair. “You, um, might fall over if you don’t.”

“Pfft, I’m not gonna—” He paused mid-sentence, wobbling precariously. Then, as if he’d just made the smartest decision of his life, he plopped down in the chair, sprawling out like he owned the place.

“See? Told ya m'fine,” he said, flashing you a lopsided grin.

You couldn’t help but snort. “Right.”

He looked at you then, really looked at you, his gaze roaming over your face “What’re you doin’ here?” he asked abruptly.

You glanced at your book, then back at him. "Reading?”

“No, I mean… here,” he insisted, gesturing vaguely around the room. “At this shitty party.”

You shrugged, feeling awkward. “My friends dragged me. I didn’t really want to come.”

Rafe’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully, and for a moment, he looked almost sober. “Yeah, same.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

He smirked, a flash of the cocky, arrogant guy you’d seen in class. “Yeah, well… they’re fucking assholes, but they’re my assholes, y'know?”

You didn’t, but you nodded anyway. “Sure.”

“So, what’s that book about?”

You hesitated. “Um… it’s a fantasy novel.”

“Fantasy, huh?” He tilted his head, eyeing the cover. “Like wizards and dragons n'shit?”

“Sort of,” you admitted. “It’s about a girl who finds out she has magic and goes on a quest to—”

“Save the world?” he finished with a mock-solemn expression.

“...Yeah,” you said, narrowing your eyes. “But it’s more complicated than that.”

“Bet it is,” he murmured, his gaze still fixed on you. “You’re really into that stuff, huh?”

You shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah. Why?”

He shrugged, his smirk softening into something that almost looked like genuine interest. “You looked happy, talkin’ about it.”

Your heart did another weird little flip, and you frowned, pushing the feeling down. He was drunk. This didn’t mean anything. He probably wouldn’t even remember it in the morning.

But then, his eyes drifted shut, his head lolling back against the chair. Within seconds, he was snoring. You sat there, stunned.

What the hell had just happened?

Three days later, you were sitting in your usual spot in the lecture hall, flipping through your notes. Class was about to start, and the room was filling up with the usual pre-lecture chatter. You were just getting settled when someone slid into the seat beside you.

You glanced up, expecting one of your friends. But it wasn’t.

It was Rafe.

“Hey, friend,” he said casually, like you hadn’t left him passed out at a party a few nights ago.

You stared at him, completely disoriented. “Hi?”

He grinned, leaning back in his chair like this was completely normal. “Didn’t think I’d forget about you, huh?”

Your eyes narrowed. “I… yeah, actually.”

Rafe’s grin widened, and he leaned in closer, “See, that’s where you’re wrong, princess,” he murmured. “I remember everything.”

Did he just give you a nickname?

Your stomach dropped. “What?”

“Yeah.” He crossed his arms, looking entirely too smug. “You, sitting there all cute with your book, talking about magic and shit. Thought I was too drunk to remember, huh?”

“I—” You stared at him, completely off balance. “Why are you here?”

“Because I want to be,” he said simply. “Got a problem with that?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “No?”

“Good.” He flashed you a grin, all cocky charm. “So, you gonna tell me more about that book, or what?”

You gaped at him. “You actually want to hear about it?”

“Why not?” he shot back, raising an eyebrow. “It made you smile.”

And for some reason, that simple statement knocked the breath out of you.

“Okay,” you said, still unsure if this was some kind of elaborate prank.

But Rafe just leaned back in his seat, eyes fixed on you like you were the most fascinating thing in the world.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “I think I’ll stick around.”

The next few classes were…weird, to say the least. Ever since Rafe decided you were his new "friend," he’d taken to sitting beside you every lecture, plopping down in the empty seat as if he’d been there all along. It was confusing. Most of the time, he’d breeze in at the last possible minute, sauntering up to your row without so much as a greeting and settling into the chair with that infuriatingly self-assured smirk.

You were already seated, your notebook open and your pen poised to start taking notes when he dropped into the seat beside you with his usual nonchalance. He stretched his long legs out in front of him, casting you a sidelong look as if daring you to acknowledge him first.

“Hi,” you said quietly, eyes flicking back to the front of the room.

“Hey, princess,” he replied, voice low and teasing.

You kept your gaze firmly on your notebook. You’d quickly learned that the best way to deal with him was to pretend his presence didn’t affect you—no matter how much his proximity messed with you.

He’d spent the last three classes nudging your foot under the desk, passing snide comments under his breath, or leaning over just close enough to murmur sarcastic observations about whatever the professor was droning on about. And today was no different.

The lecture started, Professor Callahan launching into her usual detailed overview of sociological theory. You tried to focus, pen flying across your notebook as you jotted down her points.

“Is she always this boring?” he whispered, leaning in slightly so his arm brushed against yours.

You stiffened, eyes fixed on your notes. “If you listened, it wouldn’t be so boring.”

He snorted. “Yeah, right. Like I’m gonna waste my time listening to her go on about… what is it today? Class structure?”

“Yes,” you hissed, refusing to look at him. “And if you don’t stop talking, I’m going to—”

“You’re going to what?” he challenged, his grin audible in his voice.

You snapped your mouth shut, trying to ignore the way his leg brushed against yours under the desk. He was doing it on purpose—nudging your knee every so often, shifting just a little closer until the faint scent of his cologne surrounded you. It was infuriating. And yet, when you glanced sideways at him, he was looking at you with that maddening, lazy grin that made your heart stutter.

“Just pay attention,” you mumbled, cheeks warm.

“Why would I do that when I have such a pretty view right here?”

Your head whipped around, eyes wide. “What?”

But Rafe just smirked, his gaze drifting lazily up and down your face before flicking back to the front of the room as if he hadn’t just made your brain short-circuit.

“Relax, princess. Just messin' with you.”

You swallowed, trying to refocus on the lecture. His attention was like a physical thing—intense and all-consuming. It made you uneasy.

Determined not to give him the satisfaction, you forced yourself to look at the professor, tuning out the heat of Rafe’s gaze. Professor Callahan was in the middle of explaining something about social hierarchies when she suddenly stopped mid-sentence.

“Mr. Cameron.”

The entire class fell silent.

You looked up, eyes widening in surprise as Professor Callahan fixed Rafe with a stern look. “I’m aware that I’m not as pretty as your classmate,” she said dryly, gesturing toward you, “but I would appreciate it if you could pay attention for at least ten minutes.”

A ripple of snickers spread through the room, and your cheeks flamed scarlet. Rafe, however, didn’t even blink, he was completely unruffled and offered the professor a lazy, arrogant smile. “Sorry, Professor. Just got a little distracted.”

Your stomach dropped. He was staring at you, unabashedly.

The professor raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure.” Her tone was dry, unimpressed. “Would you mind keeping your distractions to yourself until after class?”

Another murmur of laughter swept through the room, and you shrank in your seat, mortified. His smirk widened, but he leaned back in his chair, raising his hands in mock surrender.

“Of course, ma’am,” he drawled. “No more distractions.”

Professor Callahan gave him a pointed look, then turned back to the board, resuming her lecture. You sat there, face burning, refusing to look anywhere near Rafe, but you could feel his eyes on you.

“Guess I got you in trouble, huh?” he whispered, leaning closer.

You grit your teeth, still staring resolutely at the front of the room. “Stop talking.”

“Can’t help it,” he murmured, his voice teasing. “You’re way more interesting than this shit.”

“Rafe, I swear—”

“Okay, okay, I’ll behave,” he said lightly, sitting back. But he didn’t take his eyes off you. You could feel him lingering, warm and intent, and you wanted to scream. How was he so calm? So unaffected, like getting called out by the professor was just a minor inconvenience?

You hated every second of it.

“Rafe,” you hissed under your breath, finally daring to glance at him. “Will you just—”

“What?” He leaned in again, eyes bright with mischief. “You want me to go back to ignoring you?”

“Stop staring.”

He hummed thoughtfully. “Can’t promise that, princess.”

Your heart hammered, and you squeezed your pen so tightly it nearly snapped. “Why are you even here?”

He shrugged, his expression turning oddly serious. “I like sitting next to you.”

Rafe Cameron—the arrogant, cocky asshole you’d written off as nothing more than a nuisance—had just chosen to stay by your side.

As soon as class ended, you gathered your things in record time, heart still thumping wildly. The room buzzed with students shuffling out, but you kept your head down, hoping to slip away unnoticed.

Maybe if you were quick enough, you could escape before he decided to make good on his new, annoying habit of sticking to you like glue. But, of course, he was nothing if not persistent.

You’d barely slung your bag over your shoulder when he appeared at your side, his tall frame looming over you as he fell into step like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Heading to lunch?” he asked, all casual charm, as if he hadn’t just spent the entire class making you the center of unwanted attention.

“Yes?” You tried not to sound as thrown as you felt, but the way he looked at you—with that infuriatingly lazy grin—told you he could see right through you.

“Cool. I’m starving.” He said it like it was an invitation, like he was entitled to follow you, and before you could muster up a half-hearted protest, he was already steering you through the crowded hallway.

“Wait, what are you doing?” you demanded, glancing around in panic. People were staring, eyes widening as they took in the sight of Rafe Cameron, of all people, trailing after you. Whispers flitted through the air, curious and disbelieving, and you shrank under the scrutiny, feeling painfully exposed.

“Uh, going to lunch with you?” He made it sound so obvious, his voice lilting with amusement.

“I didn’t invite you!” You glanced at him, trying to tamp down the fluttery, nervous feeling his presence always seemed to stir up. “What if I’m eating with someone else?”

He shrugged. “Then I’ll eat with them too.”

You gawked at him. “What?”

But Rafe just flashed you that cocky, confident grin. “Relax. It’s just lunch.”

Just lunch, he said, like this wasn’t completely absurd.

You narrowed your eyes, debating whether to make a break for it, but he was already steering you toward the main quad, his hand ghosting the small of your back in a way that made your skin tingle.

Your heart hammered as the familiar outdoor seating area came into view. Your friends were already there, sitting at your usual table—a small group of two girls and a guy, all talking animatedly. You hadn’t even sat down yet, and they still managed to look up as one, their expressions morphing from curious to shocked when they caught sight of you—and Rafe—heading straight toward them.

“Uh, hey,” you greeted awkwardly as you approached. They just stared, mouths agape.

Emily was the first to recover. “What the—since when do you two know each other?” she asked, eyes darting between you and Rafe like she was seeing some kind of glitch in the matrix.

“Yeah, what’s going on here?” Max, the guy in your small circle, chimed in, his gaze flicking to Rafe warily. “Is this, like… a project thing?”

“No, it’s not—” you started, but Rafe cut you off with a breezy smile.

“Can’t believe y’all kept her to yourselves this whole time,” he drawled, pulling out the chair beside yours and plopping down like he’d done it a thousand times before. “Thought you’d have the decency to introduce me to the most interesting girl on campus.”

Your friends gaped, eyes wide with shock. You could practically see their brains short-circuiting. Meanwhile, you were fighting the urge to smack him upside the head.

“Please shut up,” you muttered under your breath, cheeks burning.

But he just smirked, his gaze sliding over your stunned friends with lazy amusement. “What?” he said innocently. “It’s true.”

“What the hell is happening right now?” Emily demanded, still staring at you like you’d grown a second head. “You—you and Rafe Cameron?”

You sighed, already regretting every life choice that had led you to this moment. “There is no ‘me and Rafe Cameron.’ He just—he’s being annoying.”

“Annoying?” he repeated, feigning offense. “C’mon. I thought we were past that.”

“We are not past anything,” you snapped, shooting him a glare. But that only seemed to amuse him more.

“Okay, back up,” Max interjected, brow furrowed in confusion. “How do you guys even know each other?”

“Uh, sociology class?” you offered weakly, as if that explained anything. “He’s been sitting next to me.”

“Sitting next to you?” Emily repeated slowly, like she was trying to process a particularly difficult equation. “And now you’re… eating lunch together?”

“It’s not—” You looked helplessly at Rafe, who was watching the exchange with that insufferable smirk. “I didn’t ask him to.”

He looked completely unfazed by the mess he’d caused. “What can I say? I like the company.”

“Since when?” Emily shot back, clearly unconvinced.

Rafe shrugged, “Since she started talking to me.”

Your friends fell silent, eyes wide and suspicious as they turned to you, searching for answers. But you just sat there, feeling utterly, hopelessly lost. What were you supposed to say? That Rafe Cameron had decided, out of nowhere, to insert himself into your life? That he was following you to lunch like this was some sort of normal occurrence?

“Look,” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “It’s really not a big deal. He’s just—”

“Rafe Cameron is never ‘just’ anything,” Emily interrupted, folding her arms as she fixed Rafe with a suspicious look. “So what are you up to?"

“Nothing,” Rafe said easily, his smile all sharp edges. “Like I said, I’m just getting to know her.”

“Getting to know her,” Max echoed, clearly skeptical.

“Yeah.” Rafe’s eyes never left yours, his eyes gleaming with something that made your pulse flutter. “What’s so weird about that?”

Your friends exchanged looks. You didn’t blame them. This was weird. More than weird. You’d never been the kind of girl to attract attention—especially not from someone like Rafe. Popular, arrogant, and completely out of your league in every possible way. And yet, here he was, acting like sitting with you at lunch was the most natural thing in the world.

“So,” He said suddenly, turning his attention back to the group, “Are you gonna sit here gaping all day, or are we gonna eat?”

Emily blinked, snapping out of her daze. “Uh, yeah, we’re… we’re eating.”

“Good.” Rafe turned to you, eyebrow raised. “You eating, princess?”

You stared at him, “I—yes?”

“Cool. Want me to grab you something?”

You stared at him, incredulous. “You’re offering to get me lunch?”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I am. Now, what do you want?”

“I—” You swallowed, glancing at your friends, who were watching the exchange like it was some sort of bizarre performance. “Um, a sandwich?”

“Got it.” Rafe pushed to his feet, his smile smug. “Be right back.”

And then, to your utter disbelief, he sauntered off toward the food line, leaving you and your friends staring after him.

“What,” Max said slowly, “the hell just happened?”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “I have no idea.”

The awkward lunch with Rafe didn’t end as badly as you expected.

Your friends had spent the entire time shooting you confused, bewildered looks, while he seemed to thrive under their scrutiny, lounging beside you like he belonged. He didn’t flirt—thank God—but he didn’t exactly tone down his usual cocky self either. By the end of it, he’d somehow managed to charm your friends just enough to leave them confused rather than outright hostile. Still, after that lunch, you’d expected him to lose interest, to move on to his usual crowd and forget all about his bizarre little experiment. But of course, he wasn’t known for playing by the rules.

You learned that the hard way two days later.

It was late afternoon, and you were holed up in the campus library, buried under a mountain of textbooks and notes for an upcoming exam. The library was your sanctuary—quiet, calm, and blissfully free of distractions. At least, until Rafe sauntered in. You didn’t notice him at first, too absorbed in your notes. The library was busy, students murmuring as they worked, the rustle of pages and the faint clack of keyboards filling the air. You were hunched over a particularly dense passage in your sociology textbook when you felt it—

You stiffened, glancing up cautiously, and there he was.

He leaned against the bookshelf a few feet away, his eyes fixed on you with a lazy, assessing look. He didn’t move, just watched you, his lips quirking in that infuriating smirk when your eyes met.

“What are you doing here?” you hissed, glancing around nervously. No one seemed to be paying attention, but you still felt like the entire room was suddenly staring.

“Studying,” he said, straight-faced.

“Since when do you study in the library?”

“Since now,” he said easily, pushing off the bookshelf and strolling over to your table. He pulled out the chair across from you, dropping into it like he had every right to be there. “What? Can’t a guy broaden his horizons?”

You stared at him, incredulous. “You’re joking.”

“Not today, princess.” He leaned forward, resting his chin in his hand as he peered at your open book. “So, what’re we learning?”

“We are not learning anything,” you muttered, eyes narrowing. “I’m studying. You are… I don’t know what you’re doing.”

“Keeping you company,” he said simply. “You looked lonely.”

Your mouth fell open. “Lonely?”

“Yeah.” He tilted his head, his gaze sweeping over your face. “All holed up in here with your books. Thought I’d help.”

What was he even talking about? This was insane. He didn’t just hang out in the library, especially not to “keep someone company.” He was the kind of guy who spent his free time at parties, or on the field, or wherever people like him thrived. And yet, here he was, sitting across from you in the library like this was normal.

“Rafe,” you said slowly, “you don’t even know what I’m studying.”

He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”

“It does if you’re trying to help,” you shot back, frustration seeping into your voice. “You’re—what are you even—”

“Okay, okay,” he interrupted, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Calm down. Just trying to see what’s got you all riled up.”

You bit back a groan, rubbing your temples. This was absurd. You didn’t need—didn’t want—his attention.

“Fine,” you muttered, turning your textbook around so he could see the page. “I’m going over Durkheim’s theory of social integration.”

Rafe leaned in, squinting at the page. “Durkheim, huh?”

“Yes,” you said, a little impatiently. “He believed that society functions through a collective conscience—shared beliefs and values that bind people together.”

“Sounds boring as hell,” Rafe said bluntly.

“It’s not boring,” you retorted before you could stop yourself. “It’s actually really interesting—he argued that a lack of social integration could lead to anomie, a state of normlessness that causes people to feel disconnected and isolated.”

Rafe stared at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. At least it felt that way to you.

“What?” you demanded, suddenly self-conscious. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

He shrugged, a strange, thoughtful smile tugging at his lips. “Just… you get really into this stuff, don’t you?”

Your cheeks flushed. “It’s sociology. It’s important.”

“Yeah, but…” He shook his head, “It’s kinda cute.”

You blinked, your brain short-circuiting. “Cute?”

“Yeah.” He leaned back, crossing his arms as he regarded you with a casual, easy confidence that made your heart flutter. “You get all intense when you talk about it. Like, you actually care.”

“I—I do care,” you stammered, “It’s my major.”

“I know,” he murmured. “I like that about you.”

What—what was that supposed to mean? Why was he looking at you like that, like he actually meant it?

Before you could even begin to untangle your thoughts, a shadow fell over the table, and you glanced up to see another student standing there—a tall, lanky guy with dark hair and glasses. He looked vaguely familiar, probably from one of your classes.

“Uh, hey,” the guy said awkwardly, glancing between you and Rafe. “Are—are you using this seat?”

Rafe’s expression changed instantly, “Yeah,” he said flatly. “We are.”

The guy blinked, taken aback. “Oh, uh, sorry, I just—”

“You just can find another table,” Rafe cut in, “We’re a little busy here.”

You gaped at him, mortified. “Rafe, stop.”

But he didn’t even glance at you. He just kept staring down the poor guy, his posture tense and unyielding until, with a muttered apology, the student backed off, scurrying away like he’d just had a close encounter with a predator.

“What the hell was that?” you hissed as soon as the guy was out of earshot. “He just wanted to sit down!”

“Yeah, and we’re studying,” Rafe said dismissively. “No room for distractions.”

“We’re not studying anything!” you shot back, resisting the urge to smack him. “You’re just sitting here, being—being weird.”

“Not weird,” he corrected, leaning in again. “Protective.”

You froze, your mouth going dry. “Protective?”

“Yeah.” His eyes were dark, intense, locking onto yours. “Can’t have just anyone bothering you, can I?”

After the bizarre encounter in the library, you were convinced Rafe would drop this whole… whatever it was. Surely, following you to lunch and then “protecting” you in the library was enough.

So when you found yourself at another party two nights later—dragged along by Emily despite your vehement protests—you knew it was only a matter of time before he found you. Because somehow, no matter where you went, Rafe had made it his mission to seek you out.

“Come on, you need to have some fun,” Emily had insisted, half-pulling, half-dragging you through the front door of one of the fraternity houses on campus. The music was already blaring, the heavy bass vibrating through your body. People were packed in the main room, laughing, talking, drinking, the buzz of chatter filling the air.

“This isn’t my idea of fun,” you muttered, hugging your arms around yourself as you tried to avoid brushing against the partygoers. It wasn’t that you disliked parties, exactly—it was just that the noise, the sheer volume of people could get overwhelming quickly.

“Just stay for an hour,” Emily pleaded. “Please? I swear it’ll be more fun than you think. We can dance, have a few drinks—”

“I don’t dance,” you cut in flatly, giving her a pointed look.

“Okay, fine, I’ll dance, and you… can hang out and people-watch,” she amended, undeterred. “Besides, who knows? Maybe you’ll meet someone.”

You gave her a withering stare. “Yeah, because I’m such a social butterfly.”

You sighed, resigned to your fate, and began making your way through the press of bodies. After a few minutes you managed to find a relatively quiet corner in the back, near the stairs, and gratefully leaned against the wall. Maybe if you stayed out of sight long enough, Emily would give up on trying to get you to socialize and let you leave early. It was a long shot, but you could hope.

You hadn’t been there long when you felt it—the now-familiar prickling sensation of someone’s gaze lingering on you. Sure enough, when you glanced up, there he was.

Rafe, in all his infuriating glory, leaning against the wall a few feet away, his eyes locked on you with that lazy focus that made your heart stutter. He looked unfairly good, dressed in a dark button-up that clung to his frame in all the right ways, his hair tousled just enough to look effortlessly cool. And, as usual, he was watching you like you were the only person in the room.

You narrowed your eyes at him, your stomach twisting in irritation and something else. “Are you stalking me now?” you demanded, crossing your arms as you glared at him.

Rafe’s lips curved into a slow, teasing smile. “Would it be so bad if I was?”

“Yes,” you said flatly. “It would be very bad.”

He chuckled, the sound low, sending an unwelcome shiver down your spine. “Relax, princess. I just saw you standing here all alone and thought I’d come say hi.”

“Hi,” you muttered, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “Now you can leave.”

But he didn’t budge. Instead, he straightened, pushing off the wall and closing the distance between you in a few long strides until he was standing directly in front of you, his presence overwhelming.

You tried to step back, but the wall blocked your escape.

“Actually, I was thinking we could, I don’t know, hang out for a bit?” he suggested, tilting his head as he regarded you with a faux-innocent smile.

“Why?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

Rafe blinked, seemingly taken aback by the question. “Why?”

“Yes,” you insisted, frustration bubbling up inside you. “Why do you keep… doing this? Showing up, sitting with me, following me to lunch, acting like—like we’re friends or something. What is your deal, Cameron?”

Slowly he reached up, bracing one hand on the wall beside your head, leaning in so close you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin.

“My deal,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth, “is that I like you.”

No. No, no, no.

That couldn’t be right. People didn't just like you. They tolerated you, maybe, or found you useful sometimes, but they didn't like you. Not like that. Not in the way he was implying. You felt panic rising in your chest, like a wave that was too big to stop. You couldn’t stop it.

“You’re lying,” you said shakily, shaking your head in disbelief. “You’re just—this is some kind of game, isn’t it? Some—some bet, or—”

Rafe’s expression tightened, his jaw clenching. “It’s not a game,” he ground out, his eyes flashing. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”

You swallowed hard, your chest aching. No, this couldn’t be happening. This didn’t make sense.

“I don’t believe you,” you shook your head stubbornly.

His eyes narrowed, “No?”

“No,” you repeated, crossing your arms defiantly. “You’re just… you. You can’t just decide you like me out of nowhere.”

“I didn’t decide,” he murmured, “It just happened.”

Your breath hitched, your heart racing. Why was he doing this to you? Why couldn’t he just leave you alone?

“I—” You broke off, struggling to find words, but before you could answer, a loud voice interrupted.

“Yo, Rafe! There you are, man!”

You both jerked back, startled, and you glanced over to see one of Rafe’s friends—Topper, if you remembered correctly—stumbling over, a wide grin plastered across his face.

“What are you doing back here?” Topper slurred, his gaze sliding to you. He blinked, “Who’s this?”

Rafe stepped in front of you slightly, his posture tense and protective. “Doesn’t matter,” he said curtly, “Go find someone else to bother.”

Topper blinked, taken aback. “Whoa, man, chill. I was just—”

“Go,” Rafe repeated, his tone brooking no argument.

Topper stared at him for a long moment, then slowly backed off, muttering under his breath as he disappeared into the crowd. As soon as he was gone, Rafe turned back to you, his eyes softening again.

“Sorry about that,” he murmured, “Didn’t mean to—”

“Why did you do that?” you cut in, your heart still pounding.

Rafe frowned. “Do what?”

“Get rid of him,” you said, shaking your head in confusion. “He was your friend. Why would you—”

Maybe you’d misread him. Maybe he didn’t actually mean any of what he said. He was probably just bored, looking for some amusement—another toy to play with for a little while.

“I wanted to talk to you. Not him.”

You blinked, bewildered. “But he’s your friend.”

He gave a half-hearted shrug. “So? Doesn’t mean I want him interrupting us.”

Us. Like there was an “us.” Like there could ever be an “us.”

You shook your head, trying to clear the fog of confusion. “But I don’t understand,” you mumbled. “I don’t get it. You don’t even know me.”

“I know enough,” he said quietly, his eyes holding yours in a way that made it hard to breathe. “More than you think.”

You frowned. It was impossible to shake the nagging feeling that he was just… playing with you. That this was all some sick joke and at any moment, the punchline would hit, and you’d be the idiot.

“You’re just messing with me,” you muttered, taking a small step back to put some space between you. “You’re bored or something.”

“I’m not bored,” he said firmly, stepping forward to close the gap you’d just created. “I told you, I wouldn’t do that.”

“I didn’t ask for any of this. You’ve been following me around, showing up where I am, saying all these things like—like we’re something, but we’re not.”

Rafe stepped closer, his eyes narrowing as he looked at you, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “What are you talking about? You really think I’m just messing around?”

“Yes!” you practically shouted, throwing your hands up. “Yes, I do! Why else would you be doing this? You’re Rafe Cameron, for god’s sake. You don’t even like me. This is just some twisted game to you, isn’t it?”

You stared at him, trying to read his face, trying to find any hint of dishonesty, any sign that this was all an act. But all you saw was that same intensity, that same focus, like you were the only person who mattered.

Your chest tightened, panic grazing at you. This wasn’t right. It couldn’t be. People didn’t just… like you. They didn’t seek you out at parties or show up in libraries to talk about sociology. Guys like Rafe didn’t choose people like you. There had to be some ulterior motive.

“You show up out of nowhere, act like I’m some project, some… someone who needs your protection—why, Rafe? Because I don’t fit into your world? Because I’m some joke to you and your friends?”

“That’s not it,” He growled, his voice defensive. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I don’t know what I’m talking about?” you scoffed, shaking your head. “You haven’t been honest about anything. You haven’t given me a reason to believe any of this.”

“You think I’m lying?

You moved your head again, harder this time. “That doesn’t make sense. You’re—you’re saying things that don’t make sense. I don’t understand.”

He took a slow, poising breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "What doesn't make sense to you?"

"All of this," you replied, your voice quivering with frustration, "You, acting like you—like you actually care. Like you see me. People don’t just do that, not for someone like me. I don’t—" You cut yourself off, not sure how to finish the sentence, your thoughts spiraling.

It wasn’t just that you couldn’t believe him; it was that you didn’t know how to believe him. Your experiences had taught you to be wary, to always look for the catch, because there always was one.

Always.

Rafe's brows drawn together in something that almost looked like concern. "Someone like you?" he repeated, "What does that even mean?"

You swallowed, feeling your insecurities gripping down on your chest. "It means I’m not… like you. I don’t know how to talk to people, I don’t get things right all the time. People don’t notice me, and when they do, it’s usually because I’ve done something wrong, or because they want something from me. That’s just how it is."

He shook his head slowly. "That’s not how I see you."

You opened your mouth to argue, to say something—anything—to dismiss what he was saying, to protect yourself from the disappointment that was sure to come. But Rafe didn’t give you the chance.

"You think I’m messing with you because you’re not like everyone else? Is that it? You think I’m playing some kind of game because you don’t fit into some stupid idea of who’s supposed to matter?"

You wanted to pull away, to recoil into the safety of your doubts, but something in his voice, in the way he was looking at you, made you stop.

"I’m not going to pretend like I know everything about you," Rafe continued, no less serious. "But I know enough to know that I’m not bored. I don’t care if you don’t fit in with my world, or whatever you think that means. I like that you’re passionate about the things you care about. I like that you don’t put up with anyone’s shit—not even mine." A small, almost self-deprecating smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "I’ve spent enough time around fake people to know the difference."

You weren’t used to this—this kind of sincerity. It felt too real. And part of you still wanted to push it away, to reject it before it had a chance to hurt you. But another part of you—a much smaller, quieter part—was whispering that maybe he meant it.

"Why me?"

"Because you're you," he said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

For a long, breathless moment, the two of you just stood there, the noise of the party fading into the background. Your mind was still processing everything, but there was something in the way he was looking at you, something that made you feel—just for a second—like maybe you could trust this.

You shook your head, "I’m not… I’m not good at this," you admitted, your voice uncertain. "At understanding what people mean, or knowing if they’re being serious or not. I don’t know how to read you."

Rafe’s eyes softened even more at your confession, and he took a deep breath, like he was trying to figure out how to make you believe him. "I get that," he said quietly. "And I’m not always great at this either. But I’m serious. I wouldn’t lie to you, especially not about this."

You wanted to believe him. More than anything, you wanted to believe him. But there was still that tiny voice of doubt in the back of your mind, reminding you of all the times you’d been wrong before, of all the times you’d trusted someone only to be let down.

You hesitated, your throat tight. "I don’t know if I can."

He didn’t push, didn’t demand anything from you. Instead, he just nodded slowly.

"That’s okay. You don’t have to believe me right now. But I’ll be here when you’re ready."

And with that, he stepped back, giving you the space you so desperately needed. He didn’t try to force anything, didn’t press for more. Instead, he just gave you a small, almost hopeful smile and turned, disappearing back into the crowd.

And as you stood there, your heart still pummeling into your ribs, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d been wrong about him after all.

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lemonlover1110 · 11 months ago

Text

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬

Satoru Gojo

[Chapter 21] The Right Decision

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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

The rest of your trip runs smoothly. Thankfully, Satoru didn’t try to pull another stunt that made you want to gouge his eyes out. Ren is over the moon by going to the beach daily, going to new places to explore, trying new delicious food, and what matters the most, spending time with his mother and father. Sadly, his vacation can’t last forever.

Ren is gloomy the day before you’re supposed to leave, begging you and his father to stay a little longer. Satoru wants to say yes, and he would in a heartbeat if he didn’t have to work. As much as it pains him, he can’t give up everything to be a father. The next best solution is wait for Ren to leave you alone for a minute just to ask,

“How about I extend your vacation for another week? I’ll leave, and Sayo probably won’t stay either. Just you and Ren.” And it’s tempting. You really want to say yes, but you also want to go back and resolve other issues. Plus, Ren is getting accustomed to getting whatever he wants, and you’re worried that he might become more like his father which is something that you definitely don’t want.

“We can come back some other time. It’s about time I go home.” You answer, and he nods in response. And as selfish as it sounds, Satoru is happy that you declined because he hates the idea of spending a week without seeing his son. It’s crazy to think that he lived a whole life before Ren, and the moment the little boy came into his life, Ren became everything to Satoru.

“Alright… Guess we have to make the most out of today so Ren cheers up.” Satoru says, glancing at his baby boy who’s plopped down on the couch, lamenting himself because he has to leave soon. Unluckily for everyone, it’s a rainy day outside.

“There’s really not much we can do.” You tell him, and Satoru sighs. He wishes there was something he could do to make the sun come out, but no amount of money can control that. Satoru ponders, wondering what he can do to cheer his son up.

“I got it.” His eyes light up, and he runs upstairs. You furrow your brows in confusion before walking over to sit beside Ren. Your hand runs up and down his back, attempting to soothe him.

“I don’t wanna go home. I like it here.” He kicks his feet into the couch, and you make sure to keep your distance. Ren doesn’t want to go home, he likes it here. He’s with both of you the entire day, and you’re giving him all of your attention, how can he not like it? He knows the moment you go back, things will go back to normal. He’s gotten used to this, he doesn’t want to go back to normal.

“We have to, Ren. Your granny and grammy miss you, and I have to get back to my job.” You tell him, hoping that mentioning his grandmothers will make him reconsider. He loves them with all his heart, but truthfully, he prefers spending the entire day with you.

“I want to stay!” He yells, and a sigh escapes your lips as you pinch the bridge of your nose. He needs to let it out, you know he’s upset. But he shouldn’t be using his voice like that.

“We’re not coming back if you keep throwing a tantrum.” You warn him before standing up and going to your bedroom. You don’t want to yell at him, so removing yourself from the situation is the best thing to do. Ren is still going to throw his tantrum, and you can only talk about the situation after.

“I’m here!” You hear Satoru yell from the living room. You’re going to leave him to handle it, not making an effort to get up from bed. Until Satoru calls out your name, and you groan before getting up and walking over to the living room. You smile, seeing how Ren’s demeanor has changed, kneeling down on the floor in front of the coffee table, waiting for his father to open up the box that he brought down. “I remembered I had a board game here.”

“Is this the home you used to come to as a kid?” You ask, wondering why he has the board game with him. Satoru nods in response, sitting down beside the coffee table to open the old box.

He used to play this game with his dad after getting home from the beach. It’s a game that’s more fun when played with more than two people, but Satoru didn’t really have that option. Regardless, he still had fun with his dad. Growing up, the only time that Satoru actually spent with his parents was the little vacations that they had yearly. He has very fond memories of this place, and of the board game that he opens.

“I haven’t played this in years, I have to read the rules again.” Satoru can’t help but laugh as he takes out every piece. He remembers every time being so excited to tell you about the game, begging his father to take the game back home or buy a new one for his house so he could play with you, but both of them always forgot. Luckily, he gets to play with you for the first time, and with your son as well.

“Take all the time you need.” You answer. Your eyes fall on your son, noting his somewhat puffy eyes. You ask him, “Are you better, Ren?”

“I am.” He nods. Pulling out the game completely changed his attitude. You can’t get too mad at him, he just got into this world. He’s just figuring things out, slowly learning that he can’t get everything even if his father wants to give him the world.

Like father, like son. Both are sore losers. After losing to you, both have pouty faces and you swear Ren is on the verge of tears. Ren doesn’t nap anymore, but you decide that after all his crying, you’ll put him to bed. You cuddle with him until Ren falls asleep, and once you’re sure he’s dreaming, you get up from bed and leave your bedroom.

Satoru’s in the living room, going through his phone. You don’t want to be alone with him so you hope that going to the kitchen and getting yourself a glass of water will give him the hint. He can go to his bedroom and scroll through his phone there. However, when he hears you, he says, “Come join me!”

You sigh, but you still walk over to the couch and take a seat on the other end. You pull out your phone, while he turns his off. It’s completely silent for a minute before he clears his throat and asks, “Are you still talking to Suguru?”

“Does it concern you?” You quickly reply. It’s not his business, especially when he doesn’t tell you what’s going on with him and Sayo.

“I want to know if he’s the possible stepfather to my son.” Satoru answers, and you furrow your eyebrows. You put your phone down and look at him before tilting your head to the side.

“What about you and Sayo? She’s the stepmother to my son and you have yet to tell me a thing about your relationship with her.” You respond, and he purses his lips together. You’re right, you’re absolutely right, but this isn’t about him. “I have no idea about your arrangement with her either… The one that she mentioned.”

“We don’t have an arrangement.” Satoru scratches the back of his neck, clearly nervous about the question. He’s not with her out of love, he’s made that clear. Yet… Why is he denying it?

“The same way Suguru and I have nothing going on.” You answer, hoping that’ll make him speak. Although you aren’t lying, you feel as if you have nothing going on with Suguru right now. You’re avoiding his calls and texts, you definitely don’t have a future together after this. “Look, Satoru. I just want the truth, an explanation to everything. Maybe some closure.”

The man takes a deep breath, and you know that he’s about to tell you the truth. You can read him like a book. Satoru bites down his lip before confessing, “I didn’t marry her out of love but out of convenience.”

That’s certainly a start, although you aren’t too shocked. Maybe you are a bit surprised since you assumed they fell out of love instead of straight up thinking it was arranged. He takes another deep breath before he says,

“When my father died, my mom knew that I wouldn’t be trusted with his spot… Since I was considered too immature. Also for other business purposes, merging the company that Sayo’s family owns with our own.” He begins, and you feel a pain that you haven’t felt in years. A sudden pain that consumes your body in a matter of seconds, and it only gets worse with his words. “There was another promising candidate that would’ve handled the job while I finished my studies, and my mom was scared that we would lose control. I’ve never been too well liked by them.”

You look down at the couch, feeling your eyes getting glossy as he speaks. You thought you were over this, you really were. He continues speaking, “Getting married to Sayo was my mom’s great solution… Getting married to a woman with status would show how mature I was, ready to take the spot.”

“And… I agreed. We would get married and stay like that until I had my job. I could show that I was great at what I was entrusted to do, and then I would get a divorce.” He explains, and you exhale. Your nails dig into the fabric of your pants, trying your best not to cry… This is why he did it. Money. Money was more important to him than your relationship.

He changed his number and completely blocked you out of his life. He treated you like he always did when you weren’t convenient to him. With contempt and superiority. As he speaks, you realize that you will never manage to be together without some kind of issue.

“I– I’m sorry.” He says, as his hand goes to your hand, but you jerk it out. It’s no surprise that he didn’t want to tell you, he’s right for not telling you. You almost would’ve preferred to hear that he left you because of love for someone else.

You try not to let a single tear slip even though your heart breaks again. You would’ve left anything and everything behind for him, yet he didn’t even think twice before leaving you. And Satoru feels speechless as you’re on the verge of tears. He tells you, “It was a dumb decision, and given the option again, I would leave everything behind for you and for Ren.”

You stand up from the couch. You suddenly feel suffocated in the room. He wouldn’t choose you if he had the option, he’s only do it for Ren, and that realization makes it hard for you to breathe. But you’re glad he did it. It wasn’t his first time, just this time you realized you would never be his first option.

“No, you made the right decision.” You try to smile at him, attempting to hide the fact that tears are streaming down your cheeks. “Thank you for picking right.”

#[changes]#gojo saturo #satoru gojo #gojou satoru x you #jjk satoru #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk gojo #gojo angst #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru #jujutsu gojo #gojo x reader #gojo fanfic

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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 7 months ago

Text

Hold My Hand

Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader, Jack Kline & teen!reader

Requested by @gabrielasilva1510

Synopsis: you and Jack are always there for each other

Warnings: fighting, people want to kill Jack, angst with a happy ending, probably continuity errors because season 12-14 is kind of a blur to me

“We have to find her.”

“We don’t even know where to start.”

“There’s gotta be something we can do, she can’t have gotten far.”

“Why don’t we just let her go?”

All eyes turned to you when you interrupted Team Free Will in the middle of an argument.

“That’s not an option,�� Dean scoffed. “She’s carrying Lucifer 2.0, we’ve got to stop her before he’s born.”

“Just because Lucifer’s his dad, doesn’t mean he’s gonna be evil,” you argued. “He didn’t do anything, and if Kelly wants to have this baby, why should we stop her?”

“It will kill her,” Cas said.

“And yet she said she wants to have him anyway,” you countered.

“Whoa whoa, can we back up to when I said, Lucifer’s son?” Dean said. “It’s evil, we kill it, no argument.”

“It’s not like he’s done anything!” You said. “He’s innocent! He didn’t ask to have Lucifer for a dad, and he can’t be evil before he’s even born.”

“Look, does any of this matter?” Sam cut in before the argument could get more heated. “We can’t find Kelly, so there’s nothing we can do yet anyway.”

“Fine,” Dean huffed. “But when we find her, there’s no argument. We can’t take a chance with that thing.”

“He’s not a thing, Dean.” You glared at your brother, but nobody said anything more to continue the argument.

…

The argument was inconsequential—you didn’t find Kelly in time. Well, you and your brothers didn’t.

But Cas did, and he paid the price.

You didn’t reach Jack fast enough to stop Dean from shooting him, and once he knocked the three of you out and disappeared you weren’t able to stop Dean from going on a hunt to end him. Once Cas was gone, Dean was more convinced than ever that killing Jack was right, and you just didn’t seem able to get Dean to listen to you anymore.

“You’ve been quiet,” Sam observed when the two of you got a moment away from Dean.

“Why won’t he listen?” You sighed. “I-I know he’s hurt because of Cas, but we all are. Just because he’s gone doesn’t mean it’s Jack’s fault, and it’s not fair to hunt him down because of it.”

“Jack?” Sam asked.

“Yeah. Well, I think. I saw it painted on the wall in Kelly’s house, I think that’s what she wanted to name him. He’s not just Lucifer’s son, Sam, no matter what Dean thinks. He has a name, and he doesn’t have to be evil just because Lucifer’s his dad, or-or because Kelly died in childbirth, or because Cas died to protect him. Those are all decisions that other people made, not Jack.”

“I understand what you’re saying. I just don’t think Dean does.”

“I’ve tried to tell him,” you said. “I’ve tried a hundred times. He doesn’t want to listen.”

“I know,” Sam said. “But he’s in pain. We’ve got to cut him some slack.”

“If we cut him too much slack, then we’re just signing Jack’s death warrant.” You sighed. “I can’t do that, Sam. If I do, then Kelly and Cas died for nothing.”

Sam opened his mouth to respond, but closed it quickly when he saw Dean returning to the Impala.

…

Finding Jack wasn’t as hard as Dean was afraid it would be. On the way to a lead, Sam and Dean restarted the argument about Jack.

“I’m sorry, are you defending the son of Satan?” Dean scoffed after Sam tried to calm Dean down.

“I’m not defending anything, it’s just—“

“I am,” you butted in. “The only reason Jack attacked us is because you shot him!”

“Hey!” Dean smacked his hand against the steering wheel. “I shot the monster, that’s what we do!”

“Jack’s not a monster!” You blurted.

“Jack?” Dean scoffed. “It’s Lucifer’s son, not some new best friend. And he killed Kelly, and…” Dean’s voice stuttered. “And Cas…”

“Jack didn’t kill them!” You insisted. “They wanted to protect him, that doesn’t make it his fault!”

Dean opened his mouth to yell at you, his fingers whitening on the steering wheel, when Sam interrupted.

“Guys, we’re here.”

Dean gritted his teeth as he pulled into the parking lot.

“The only plan I have right now is killing that thing before he kills anyone else.”

“Is Cas…” Sam swallowed. “Is Cas really gone?”

“You know he is.”

…

Once the three of you finally tracked Jack to a police station, Sam managed to taser him before the three of you got arrested by the very suspicious cop.

You and Sam were left with Jack in a holding cell while Dean talked to the woman—no doubt, he was trying to convince her to help him kill Jack. At least, that’s what you were afraid of. Even Sam, who you considered much more on your side, was pressing himself against the farthest wall from Jack when he woke up.

Once Jack relaxed and his yellow eyes faded, you approached him even as Sam held back.

“Y/N…” Sam whispered warily, but you ignored him, opting to sit next to Jack on a hard metal bench. Jack watched you silently for a moment before offering a small smile and turning his attention back to Sam, who was trying to ask him some questions.

“Will you tell them I’m sorry?” Jack asked him. You saw the guilt in his eyes, and it twisted your gut—Jack had never meant to hurt anyone, and he must’ve been so scared when Dean shot him.

“Um…yeah,” Sam agreed.

Sam continued to question him, and you continued to remain by Jack’s side. You were sure it was making Sam nervous—his eyes kept glancing towards you, and his hands were twitching, as though he was prepared to act at any moment. But you could also tell that it was calming Jack. The changes were subtle, but you could almost feel rather than see him…not leaning in your direction, but more like relaxing towards you, like a flower growing towards sunlight.

Once Jack announced that he’d had to grow up quickly because the world was dangerous, you felt yourself understanding him more and more. Sam seemed to relax when Jack claimed that Castiel was his chosen father, not Lucifer. The more Jack spoke, the more the two of you realized that this was not some monster, some devil-spawn—he was just a kid.

And it all was going so well until Dean returned.

Jack was still stiff and silent after learning that Cas was dead, so he didn’t acknowledge Dean’s presence. You wanted to go and make sure that Dean didn’t still plan to kill Jack, but Sam beat you to Dean, and you didn’t want to leave Jack alone. Still, you listened carefully as Sam tried to convince Dean that Jack was just a kid.

The brothers were interrupted by a cry for help—Dean went to investigate, leaving the three of you stranded in the cell. He wasn’t gone thirty seconds when to angels broke down the door. Once they were inside, Jack doubled over in pain, stumbling against the wall.

“Jack!” You cried out, reaching over and steadying him. One of the angels ripped the door off its hinges, and Sam and the angel fought while you stayed by Jack’s side, keeping yourself between him and the other angel.

Sam was on the floor in a minute, overwhelmed by the angel. You were conflicted for a moment—did you help Sam, or Jack?—but the angel ignored Sam once he was on the floor, going straight to Jack. It only took one swift blow to get you out of the way, your head slamming painfully against the rough stone wall of the jail cell.

“Jack…” you whimpered, watching as the angels grabbed him and marched him towards the exit.

“Hey!” Sam yelled, and you turned to see him press his bloody palm against the angel-repelling symbol he’d finger-drawn in blood. The angels were gone in a bright flash of light, and Jack remained, kneeling in pain by the door.

“Jack.” You jumped to your feet, staggering a little as the blood rushed to your head, but you still managed to reach Jack and grab hold of his shoulder. “Jack, are you ok?”

Before he could answer, the door slammed open to reveal a third and final angel wielding an angel blade. Sam grabbed one the other angel had dropped and jumped in front of Jack. You stayed right by Jack’s side as he stood to his feet.

“Don’t.” Sam said.

“Or what, other one?” The Angel scoffed.

“Guess.” Dean grunted, entering right behind her.

You felt your hand subconsciously finding Jack’s as you took a half-step forward, trying to block his body with your own. You saw Jack glance at you out of the corner of your eye—he looked confused—but his hand squeezed yours even tighter.

“If I can’t have him, no one can,” the angel promised, twisting her blade and driving into Jack’s chest.

“No!” You cried as Sam killed her with one swift jab. The three of you watched with bated breath as Jack grabbed hold of the angel blade and slowly removed it.

“I…I’m fine,” he breathed.

Sam and Dean stared at each other, but you couldn’t take your eyes off the bloody hole in the middle of Jack’s chest.

“I’m fine,” Jack repeated, his hand once again finding yours.

…

You sat with Jack while Sam and Dean discussed the options. It didn’t take long to decide—Jack would be going with you. Of course, you were almost certain that it was because Dean was looking for a way to kill him, but you would take what you could get for now.

You finally separated from Jack when the four of you returned to the cabin. Dean went in to prepare Cas’s body, and Jack wanted to see his mother one last time. You couldn’t bring yourself to go in—to see what you’d lost. So you waited outside until both bodies were brought out to burn.

You saw Sam speaking to Jack while Dean poured gasoline on the pyre, but you couldn’t bring yourself to listen. Sam and Dean spoke, but it was like you were in a play, one where two characters went off to talk but no one else on stage was supposed to hear what they were saying. Their words weren’t quiet, and they were mere inches from you, but you couldn’t make it out anyway. Then Dean tossed his lighter into the fire, and you watched as flames engulfed the two covered bodies. You wanted to look away—to close your eyes, as if that would somehow make anything better—but you couldn’t tear your gaze away. You felt like an unwilling witness to the burning blaze that took your friends away—away to somewhere better, you hoped. The smoke rose up, and you watched it as if hoping to see their souls rising with it—off to a better world, a world without so much pain.

Jack’s hand on your arm snapped you out of your daze. He looked for a moment as if he didn’t know what he was doing. But then his hand found yours, and you felt it—a reassuring squeeze. His hand was warm, and his touch was comforting. Your gaze met his for the briefest of moments, before both of you looked back at the fire.

But not before your hand squeezed his back.

…

“I don’t like that,” Dean grumbled to Sam. Sam looked at him, confused, and Dean gestured to the back seat. Jack was asleep against the window, and somewhere along the line you’d gone from sleeping on your own window to sleeping on Jack’s shoulder. “We shouldn’t be letting her get that close to it. As soon as we figure out how to kill a nephilim, he’s gone.”

“Dean, we don’t know that he’s evil,” Sam reasoned.

“Yes we do, Sam. And every time we try to cheat, try to pretend that the bad guys aren’t so bad, people end up dead. So now we’re gonna do what we should always do—end the problem.”

Both boys halted their conversation when they saw you stir—getting you involved would only make the argument worse; they knew where you stood on the issue.

“Dean, the problem might be the only way to save mom,” Sam argued.

“Mom is gone.”

…

You awoke to a blinding motel sign blinking above the Impala.

“We should be on the road,” Dean was arguing to Sam.

“Dean, you were hallucinating sheep. We need a few hours,” Sam countered.

“This is nice!” Jack said enthusiastically when he saw the dingy, near-rotting motel room. You found yourself smiling at his eagerness while Sam and Dean dropped their bags on the ground.

“Wow,” Jack breathed when he turned on the tv and a Scooby-Doo episode started playing. “This is…wonderful.”

You grinned, settling down next to him on one of the beds to watch, when Dean stepped over.

“Hey, no,” he said, moving to turn it off. He hesitated when he saw the show, almost smiling at what it was. You were just starting to hope that Dean was coming around when the smile dropped and he clicked the tv off. “You’re on the couch sport, move,” he said to Jack. “Y/N, I guess you’re sharing my bed tonight.” Dean snatched a bible off the counter and tossed it to Jack. “Here, why don’t you read a book.”

“I’m gonna stay up for a little bit,” you said, going to sit by Jack on the couch. Dean pursed his lips, but said nothing.

Sam left and returned quickly with burgers. The four of you chowed down—you watched as Jack started to mimic all of Dean’s movements, and you had to bite back a smile when Dean started to get annoyed with it.

After dinner, you dozed off. Sometime in the night, Donatello arrived, but you didn’t wake until you started to hear raised voices. You sat up on the couch and noticed Jack next to you. He was watching Sam, Dean, and Donatello argue about him—mostly Sam and Dean.

“He doesn’t have to be evil!” Sam was saying. “We don’t know that he isn’t more like Cas and Kelly than Lucifer!”

“I’m right here you know!” Jack argued, but no one listened.

“Yeah but he’s not Kelly, not Cas, he’s the freakin devil!”

You flinched in surprise when Jack disappeared from next to you. Dean turned to look at him, growling in annoyance when he saw Jack was gone.

“Nice going, Dean,” you huffed, jumping to your feet and running out to find Jack. You slammed the door in Dean’s face before he could respond.

…

“Hey Jack.” You breathed a sigh of relief when you saw Jack, sitting on a crate in an alleyway outside of the motel. You had a feeling he could’ve just as easily transported himself to Hawaii, so you were more than relieved that he hadn’t gone far.

Jack tucked his head into his arms as if trying to escape you.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “Everyone was so angry.”

“It’s not your fault,” you sighed.

“I guess you just wanted to be away from it all.” You hadn’t noticed Sam following you until he spoke.

“And suddenly, I was,” Jack sighed. You felt your gut twist at the guilt in his voice—he didn’t want his power, you could feel it. It must be so overwhelming for him, to just think or feel something and have it happen.

“Yeah,” Sam sighed. “I’ll tell you what, you’ve got some special skills, Jack. We just need to make sure you get a grip on them, so you don’t hurt anybody.”

“Is that why Dean hates me?” Jack asked, and you had to remind yourself to stay calm—you loved Dean, but right now you’d never wanted to hit him more.

Jack and Sam continued to talk about Dean, and about Jack’s own powers, but again you found your mind wandering. You didn’t know what to do, but for some reason you felt that more than anything, you wanted to protect this kid. You’d never met anyone like him—he was so kind, so inquisitive, so bright and happy—and you felt like he was someone you needed in the world.

“I just don’t know if I’m worth all this.” Jack’s tearful confession brought you back to the present.

“You’re mom thought you were,” Sam told him. “So did Cas. So do I.”

“Me too,” you jumped in. “Jack, I believe you can control your powers. And I believe that you deserve a chance here. I believe that you’re worth that.”

You weren’t sure if he moved or if you did, but somehow Jack’s hand was grasped in yours once again. It just felt right—like he was a wind chime, beautiful when moved in the right direction, and you were the string holding him up—you made each other better; you made each other work.

…

Dean’s relationship with Jack didn’t change much after you guys brought him back to the bunker—even after Jack saved you all from Asmodeus. Dean tried his best to keep you away from Jack, but he was never successful. The only thing he could do was never leave you alone in the bunker with him—which he made sure to do.

That plan backfired one day when Dean took you with him for a supply run—he didn’t need you, but you’d been “spending too much time with the devil’s kid” recently, so he took you out anyway.

Which would have been fine, if a certain Knight of Hell hadn’t been on the loose.

You’d wandered away from Dean in the parking lot—he was heading inside the store, but you turned off at the last moment, something catching your eye in the alleyway just outside. You didn’t know what it was, or why you turned; instinct, maybe. Nonetheless, you hadn’t taken two steps into the alley when you heard—

“Ah, yes. You’ll do nicely.”

—and you felt something smack the back of your head with a sickening crunch, bringing darkness to your vision and numbness to your bones, before you suddenly couldn’t feel anything at all.

…

Pain. After a time, it was all you remembered. You woke to it every day, and passed out from it every night. At least, that’s how you imagined it—you couldn’t tell the difference between night and day in the dank, gloomy stone tomb that you’d spent the last few…days? Weeks?—in. You didn’t know anymore. It didn’t matter anymore.

The slow scrape of stone on stone forewarned more pain as you sagged against the rusted chains that bit into your bloody-soaked wrists.

“Y/N?”

The sound of your name was jarring in a place where your identity never seemed to matter. You struggled to lift your head, seeing first the shadow of the stranger, then his shoes, all the way until you could make out the silhouette of a face.

“Y/N! Dean, I found her!”

The voice felt familiar, but in an indistinct way; like seeing someone who recognized you, but you couldn’t place their face.

Large hands on your face had all the breath leaving your lungs as you whimpered in fear.

“Hey, hey it’s ok. N/N it’s me, you’re ok.”

The name came to you as if from a nearly-forgotten dream.

“Sammy?”

“Yeah, it’s me.” Sam’s voice was gentle as he reached over and started to work at the locks holding your chains in place. You didn’t notice Dean approaching, but when your chains gave way and your knees buckled, Dean was there to catch you.

“It’s ok sweetheart. We’re gonna take you home.”

…

You’d been in your room for three days. Sam and Dean had been going in and trying to coax you out, but you hadn’t moved, spoken, or even had anything to eat. Dean had kept Jack out of your room completely, despite both Jack and Sam’s protests.

“Look, I know you don’t trust him, but he and Y/N…they’ve connected, Dean. She likes him, and she trusts him. He could help her.”

“What, you think he can do something we can’t?” Dean scoffed.

“Maybe,” Sam answered honestly. “But it can’t hurt to try.”

“Yes it cou-“

“No, no it couldn’t,” Sam stopped Dean before he could even finish. “Jack won’t hurt her, Dean. He just won’t. I know you hate it, but they care about each other, and you can’t stop that.”

Dean gritted his teeth, mulling over Sam’s words.

“Fine. But if it doesn’t work, then he stays away.”

Sam sighed.

“Deal.”

…

Sam grabbed Dean’s arm, stopping him before he could follow Jack into your room.

“Just give them a little space,” Sam whispered. Dean scowled, but stayed in the doorway.

“Y/N?” Jack’s voice was quiet, but you flinched anyway. “It’s ok, it’s me, it’s Jack.”

Your head lifted, only about an inch, and your eyes flicked up to Jack before you looked back down.

“I really missed you around here,” Jack continued, climbing up to sit next to you on your bed. Dean stiffened, but Sam held his arm to keep him from interrupting.

You stayed silent, but Jack was patient.

“Nothing was the same around here. I’m glad you’re back, I just…I wish you felt safe now, because you are. You’re safe here, I’m not going to let anyone hurt you ever again.” Jack’s hand inched towards yours, but Dean interrupted.

“Ok, you tried. Now come on.”

“Dean—“ Sam began, but Jack didn’t argue. He just stood slowly to his feet and started towards your door.

“Jack.”

Your voice stopped Jack in his tracks. He turned to look at you, and his worried brow relaxed when he saw your hand reaching out for his. He took two steps and was in front of you again, reaching forwards and grasping your hand in his.

“Hey Y/N.” Jack smiled. You returned his smile with a weak one of your own.

“Hi Jack.”

And Jack knew that it would all be ok.

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl

#the winchesters #dean winchester #dean and sam #supernatural dean #sam winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #winchesters x reader #sam winchester x reader #winchesters x sister #jack kline x reader #jack kline

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lovedrruunk · 20 days ago

Text

'A Fresh Start 𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐[part iv]

She's weird, she's creepy, she's a total stalker, and now she's... loitering outside your door...? [part iii]

You paced your living room, arms crossed tightly over your chest, teeth chewing the inside of your cheek. You felt like an idiot.

What were you thinking showing up to her house uninvited, banging on her door and shouting her name like a lunatic? No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't help but feel that showing up like you did had been a mistake.

The look in her eye when she opened the door haunted you. It wasn’t anger, not really. It was something else entirely. Fear? Guilt? Whatever it was, you hated that look on her.

You stopped pacing for a moment, your arms falling to your sides as you let out a heavy sigh. What was the point of trying to fix things now? You’d probably just scared her away for good. Why did you always have to push things? You should’ve just left her alone, I mean clearly she didn’t want to be friends.

But then you couldn’t help but wonder: why the hell had she been following you then??

You groaned and flopped onto your couch as your mind raced. It didn’t make any sense. If she didn’t want anything to do with you, why had she gone out of her way to be near you? Why had she constantly stared at you from afar as if she wanted to say something?

None of it added up, and the more you thought about it, the more frustrated you felt. Maybe you were overthinking it. Maybe she wasn’t following you at all, and you’d just misread the whole situation. But… no. The way she’d looked at you when you confronted her, it was written all over her face. She’d been following you. You were sure of it.

“Ugh.” you groaned, dragging your hands over your face. This was hopeless.

Every time you thought you had a grasp on her, she’d do something to throw you off completely. She was impossible to read, like a puzzle missing half its pieces, or a windup monkey without its gears. And as much as you wanted to forget about it, about her, you couldn’t.

Because deep down, you cared. You hated seeing her so… isolated, so withdrawn. And even if she didn’t want to be friends, even if you’d scared her away, you couldn’t help but feel like she didn’t deserve this.

Pushing yourself off the couch, you started pacing again. You wanted to fix this, to figure out some way to show her that you weren’t just trying to bother her. But how? After the way she’d turned you away, what was the point?

Part of you wanted to march back to her house and try again. But the other part screamed at you to stay put, to not make things worse, to wait until she was ready.

But god did you want to see her.

You huffed again. You felt like a stupid teenage girl kicking her feet and hitting her pillows while whining about her latest highschool crush. You wanted to see her, you wanted to see her so bad it was driving you crazy. It was irrational really. She was a total freak. New in town, avoidant, creepy, and frankly, a little bit of a bitch. All negative traits associated with someone you shouldn’t be seeing. So why did you want to so badly? All your alarm bells were going off but it was hard to tell if they were yelling or singing.

Either way, you decided that this time you wouldn’t be impulsive. You’d choose logic over feeling, because obviously that’s what any other responsible adult would do… obviously. Logic over feeling. Rationality over impulse. It sounded easy in theory, but as you sat there, staring at the blank wall across the room, it felt impossible.

What if she thought you hated her? What if she thought you didn’t care? Or worse, what if she thought you pitied her?

She’d probably slam the door in your face again if she thought for a second you were pitying her. You knew nothing about her yet you couldn’t help but feel like she would be the type.

You groaned, flopping back onto the couch. "This is ridiculous," you muttered to yourself. "I'm ridiculous."

You stayed still for what felt like hours, the only sound you could hear being the faint ticking of the clock. You couldn’t sit here forever, pacing between guilt and worry. But you’d already decided: no more impulsive decisions.

…

So why were you halfway to the door before you even realized it?

Your hand froze on the doorknob. You couldn’t go over there again. What happened to all that logic over feeling talk? Before you could scold yourself and retreat back to the couch, a sound from the other side of the door made you pause.

A shuffle. A creak. The distinct sound of someone sighing.

Your heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, you wondered if you were hearing things. After a short pause you decided that it wouldn’t hurt to just check, for your own peace of mind if not anything.

Turning the doorknob to quickly open the door, the sight made your breath hitch.

Powder was crouching on your doorstep, looking up at you like a deer in headlights. Her eyes were wide, her hair messy, and she looked just as nervous as you felt.

“You!” You shrieked.

She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

"What... the hell are you doing here?" you managed to ask after a long pause, your voice softer this time so as to not freak her out.

She shot to her feet so fast she almost lost balance, quickly tucking something into her pocket. Her eyes darted to the ground as she fidgeted with her fingers. “I don’t- I wasn’t-”

“You weren’t what? Just crouching on my porch for fun?”

She looked back up at you with a sour expression, her cheeks flushing a bright pink. “I didn’t think you’d open the door!” she blurted out defensively.

“It’s my house!” you said, exasperated.

“I know that!” she snapped back, louder than she intended. Her eyes widened, and her voice softened almost immediately. “I just... I wasn’t ready.”

“For what?” you asked, but she didn’t answer.

The air was heavy and the atmosphere was thick as you waited for her to respond. Her lips parted again as if to say something, but instead, she shook her head and spun on her heel, dropping onto the top porch step with a huff.

You took a minute to look at her. Just a couple minutes ago you were telling yourself to stay away from her, and although you agreed, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for her visit. It felt right, y’know, her being around.

Staring at the back of her messily cut hair, you wondered why she’d dropped by in the first place. Two days ago she was shooing you away like a fly, but now, for whatever reason, she came to you this time. You wondered what changed.

You sighed as you followed her, sitting down a few feet away. Neither of you said anything at first, the silence filled only by the far away sounds of the townsfolk heading home as the sun set.

Finally, you spoke first, your voice quieter this time. “You know, you don't make much sense.”

She didn’t look at you, her eyes fixed on the sidewalk below.

“I know.” she muttered.

“Then help me out.” you said, trying to keep the frustration out of your voice. “What’s going on here?”

“I... I don’t know.” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

You turned to look at her, noticing the way her fists tightened. For someone so closed off, she looked more lost than anything else.

You felt a pang of guilt, and although you knew she'd never stand for being pitied, you couldn't help but feel bad.

“Well...” you said after a moment, leaning back slightly, “whatever it is, there’s no rush.”

She glanced at you out of the corner of her eye, her lips pressing into a thin line. She didn’t say anything, but the fact that she didn’t immediately run away felt like progress.

‘There's no rush’ the phrase replayed in her head for the millionth time. It was just like you to say something like that wasn’t it? Sweet, patient, so sure of yourself. Meanwhile, she felt like her insides were about to explode.

She hated how much she cared about your words, how they lingered in the back of her mind, how they actually managed to reassure her.

“You’re being too nice to me.” she said finally.

“How so?” You asked, keeping your tone light.

She shook her head. “You just are.”

You groaned dramatically. “You’re so confusing.”

She laughed dryly in response.

After a short pause you leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees.

“I like being nice to you.” you said simply.

She froze. For a moment, neither of you said anything.

“I don’t know how to deal with that.” she admitted finally, her voice small.

“Then don’t” you replied. “Not right now at least.”

Powder looked away, blinking rapidly. She stood abruptly. “I have to go.”

You stood too, subconsciously copying her. “Powder, wait–”

She turned to face you, looking at you fully for the first time since you two sat down, before quickly cutting you off. “Here, this was for you.”

She extended her fist towards you before opening it to reveal a crushed and wilted flower.

You hesitated before accepting it, it was a cute offer but you were more confused than anything. You stared at it for a second before the sound of her boots rushing down the steps caught you off guard.

“H-Hold on!” you called out.

She stopped in her tracks, turning her head slightly to look at you through her peripherals.

“Are you… free tomorrow?”

. . .

[Part v]

it wouldve been real fucking funny if i made her trip and fall down the stairs

ANYWAYS THEYRE SO CUTEEE AWWW (i say as i am the one who wrote it)

TRUSTTTTTTT that PART 5 WILL COME A LOTTT SOONER!!!! updating takes me awhile when im not sure how to go about the story BUT I HAVE RLLY CUTE AND FUN IDEAS FOR THEIR HANGOUT SO WRITING IT WILL BE MUCH EASIER!!!

also posting this on my bday is so funny to me like wow life of a teenage girl

[taglist ( ;´ - `;)!!]

@cattjull @kenqki @powderbomb-jinxed @iamastar @lostdreamingwallflower @errorlovernotfound99 @raven437 @cartalige @poncho-fisch @crushh-existz @slxtcity @jinxslapdog @radioheadfan699 @alduinworldeater11 @dulleyeddreamer @alicenasflowers

[USERS I CANT TAG 4 SUM REASON (◞‸◟；)]

@sacrasm-is-my-form-of-attack @wonylvxv

#DIDJA MISS MEEE?!? >ه<#WHO DAT IN THE BACK WHO DAT IN THE BACKK!??!#jinx x reader #Jinx #jinx arcane #arcane #arcane x reader #jinx arcane x reader #jinx imagine #x reader #series #jinx league of legends #arcane league of legends x reader

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cozage · 1 year ago

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Idk of your taking requests at the moment... but I had this in my head for God knows how long but how would the one piece men (law, zoro, and shanks mostly) react to cute aggression? Like you just randomly bite them or something or would they have cute aggression against you like they just randomly bite you instead

- hope I'm not asking for alot and no need to actually do this one I know you probably have 100 other requests

Characters: gn reader x Law, Zoro, Shanks Total word count: 475

Love Bites

Law

Law used to get annoyed with these random acts of gentle aggression.

Physical touch is something he doesn’t do well with, so he found it more shocking than anything.

Human affection also doesn’t make much sense to him, and most things you do confuse him honestly (that’s part of what intrigued him most at the beginning of your relationship). He tries to understand, but he doesn’t.

At first, those silly things were met with harsh glares and “What are you doing?” or “Please, Y/N. I’m in the middle of something. I don’t have time for games.”

But he got used to it, eventually not commenting on it at all. Just letting you do your thing.

He found himself anticipating these small acts of loving aggression at some point, though he’s not sure when that switch happened.

Now, if you time it right, you’ll get a soft hum or an amused chuckle out of him.

Zoro

Zoro is confused by this. He does not understand the purpose of this activity.

“What are you doing?!” he demands, jerking away from you. “I’m not some hunk of meat, regardless of what you and Luffy think!”

That makes you laugh. “I dunno, it’s just fun to do!”

He scowls at that. “Zoro” and “fun” have a hard time going together sometimes.

Every time you do it, you can feel his stiffen beneath you, but he stops jerking away from it. Instead, he just laughs. “You’re a strange one,” he’ll say softly, often pairing it with a kiss.

One day he randomly bites you, just a quick little nibble that makes you jump.

“See!?!” he yelled. “It’s weird!”

Shanks

The moment you do it to him, he laughs a big hearty laugh. “If you want attention, dear, just say so.”

And that begins the ongoing love aggression war. Sometimes he knocks his head against yours as you lean against him, or he’ll take your hand and act like he’s going to kiss it, only to gently bite down on your fingers and cause you to shriek with laughter.

He’ll go in for a kiss, and then blow a raspberry an inch away from your face. He's always finding new ammunition to use

“You started this!” he’ll always say, laughing along with you.

You don’t give up that easily, of course. You’ll squeeze and pull at his cheeks, or pinch his arm and giggle as he jumps at the surprise touch.

There is never a bad moment for you all to play these pranks on each other. In fact, the more serious the moment, the harder you guys laugh when one of you pulls it off. You’re both good sports about it, and the game is always something fun for you all to do in times of boredom.

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puckinghischier · 9 months ago

Text

Surprise…?

Luke Hughes x fem!reader

summary: luke gets hurt during a game

notes: y’all i think i struggle writing luke for some reason. i just never seem to really like what i write when i write for him. wtf am i doing wrong 😩

request: can you do a post on luke Hughes getting badly injured the game at umich and both older brothers are there and get worried over him and major fluff

i strayed away a bit from the michigan aspect because i don’t feel comfy writing about college hockey players, so i changed it up a bit. i hope you still enjoy!! 🫶🏼

[3.3k]

There weren’t many times you regretted moving to Jersey, but right now was one of them. The constant traffic within the city wasn’t something that usually got under your skin, but today it was the absolute bane of your existence. Of course, you were in a hurry. A big one. You had approximately thirty minutes until puck drop, and you needed to get there before that puck hit that ice. No exceptions. You hadn’t told Luke what you were doing, so he probably already expected you to be there, wondering why you’re not in your usual seat for warm-ups.

As if he could hear your thoughts, your phone buzzed with a message from Luke, not being able to read what it said while trying to weave in and out of traffic.

“Quinn, can you see what Luke just sent. And then tell him I’m on my way. I don’t want him worrying that I’m not showing tonight,” you ask the Hughes brother currently in your passenger seat.

Quinn grabbed your phone from the cupholder, listening to you rattle off your passcode so he can open Luke’s message.

“He asked where you were, and if you were already there. Wanted to know why you weren’t in your seat for warm ups,” Quinn confirms your thoughts, looking to you for an answer.

“Tell him I’m just running late. Be there before puck drop. And tell him I love him and good luck.”

You hear the sound of Quinn typing your reply as you increase your speed, cursing the people who want to drive below the speed limit in the fast lane. This is what you get for trying to be a good girlfriend and surprise your boyfriend and his brother. You get stuck on the road with New Jersey’s worst drivers.

In your defense, you were supposed to already be safely at the arena in your seats, but Quinn’s airline had different plans. His flight being delayed by three hours gave you barely enough time to run and grab him from the airport and make it back to the Rock before the hockey game started. The only thing saving your ass right now is the fact that if you can just get there, you can go through the player entrance and avoid the crowds trying to get in at the last minute.

“If you don’t calm down and drive like a sane person, we’re never going to get there. We’ll be squashed on the side of the road,” Quinn scolds you, grasping what your dad always called the ‘oh shit’ handles.

“If I can just get around these idiots in front of me we’ll be fine. We’re almost at our exit, then I just have to pull around back and we’re in,” you tell him, once again pressing the gas pedal a little harder.

Quinn stays silent the rest of the drive, closing his eyes once you start speeding around the other cars on the freeway, finally getting to the right exit and rushing to the underground parking that the players always park in. You pull your car into the spot next to Jack’s, barely even turning the car off before you’re jumping out and sprinting to the entrance.

“C’mon, Quinn! I know you can move faster than that! We only have a few minutes! Move it!” You yell over your shoulder, Quinn barely having gotten out of the car.

“Remind me to never let you drive ever again,” is all he says as he catches up to you, looking a little greener than before.

The two of you make it inside the arena with no issues, sprinting to your seats just as the national anthem finishes, both teams sending their starting lines out on the ice.

You had managed to snag Quinn a seat next to you, asking the team’s manager for a favor to help surprise their rookie defenseman. With no hesitation, he handed you a ticket and a locker room pass for Quinn, knowing how homesick Luke had been lately. You had thanked him a million times, asking him to keep it a secret from both Jack and Luke, not wanting either one of them to know until the day of. He gave you his word, and was also the reason you were given access to the player parking for the night, not wanting Quinn to be ambushed by fans going through the regular entrance.

You felt your heart rate start to slow once you were both situated in your seats, glad that you had made it in time. Neither Jack nor Luke had looked over and noticed you yet. You wondered if they were going to clock Quinn before they took their stances on the ice.

Your question was soon answered as Jack looked back and saw you, waving and turning to get Luke’s attention before he did a double take, noticing the brunette sitting to you left. Quinn gave a small wave, flashing his younger brother a smile as you watched Jack’s eyes widen, mouth curving into beaming smile. Luke had turned back, looking in your direction, a relieved smile on his face once he noticed you were finally in your spot, eyes too focused on your figure to notice Quinn’s next to you. It wasn’t until he looked over at Jack and followed his gaze that he finally noticed his oldest brother in the crowd, a Devil’s hat on his head.

Luke’s eyes flicked over to you once again, mouthing ‘what the fuck?’ to you, your only response a shrug of the shoulders and a smirk on your face.

The two brothers quickly focused their attention to the officials on the ice, lowered into their stances, waiting for the puck to drop onto the ice.

“You know they’re going to compete now, right?” Quinn says as he elbows you to get your attention.

“Why would they compete? They’re literally playing for the same team. It doesn’t matter who scores as long as the team wins,” you respond, confused at Quinn’s words.

“It matters now. They do the same thing when mom or dad come to watch them. They want the praise. They want to be able to out perform the other so they can brag about it to me after the game,” Quinn clarifies.

“I don’t know about that. Jack’s been good about trying to set Luke up for success all year, I think they’ll surprise you.”

Quinn gives you a skeptical look, not believing your words, but lets it go otherwise; his attention quickly stolen by the sound of the puck hitting the ice, followed by clashing sticks and skates scraping against the frozen floor.

Much to your surprise, Quinn proved to be right. All throughout the first period, the two brothers fought to get the puck, sometimes even fighting against one another. You noticed the odd looks from their teammates, Nico even skating over to Jack during a tv timeout to ask him what was up, not having seen the pair act like this before. You kept throwing glares at Luke, trying to tell him to knock it off, that they’re playing for the same team, but he wouldn’t look at you for more than a few seconds at a time.

As the second period started, the competition between Jack and Luke had nearly ceased to exist. You assumed they got their asses chewed in the locker room during the intermission, noting how their coach seemed to watch them like a hawk. Once the brothers started actually playing together instead of against one another, the Devil’s were scoring goals left and right, putting up four goals before the end of the second period, one Luke’s and two being Jack’s.

With only three minutes left in the second period, Luke was attempting to get possession of the puck from behind the net, fighting two of the opposing players for the black piece of rubber. He lost control of the puck, and in a moment of frustration, pushed one of the enemy players in the back, wanting out of the sandwich they had put him in. The player he pushed fell forward onto the ice, drawing a penalty on Luke. The official had blown the whistle, stopping gameplay, when Luke looked over at him, frustrated at the call.

What Luke didn’t see was the player who had gotten the puck come skating up behind him at full speed, pushing Luke so hard his skates came out from under him, causing him to land on the ice on his back. He was angled just enough, though, that his body slid at high speed straight into the bottom of the wall a few feet away, head bouncing off the boards along the ice.

You were on your feet immediately, hands flying to the glass in front of you, begging for him to get up. Quinn jumped to his feet next to you, placing a hand on your shoulder, whether to comfort you or himself, you don’t know. Jack leaves his spot on the bench to skate over to his brother, falling to his knees on the ice, hovering above Luke.

Luke hadn’t moved yet. Not a foot twitch, a roll over in pain, or a thumbs up to let anyone know he’s okay. He’s laying lifeless on the ice, trainers calling his name, careful not to touch his head or neck. Your hand flies to cover your mouth, a sob making its way out of you when you noticed the stretcher being put on stand-by near the tunnel. Everything feels like it’s in slow motion, time stopped as Luke continues to lay, unmoving. Quinn tries to move you back from the glass, averting your attention from the scene in front of you, but your eyes are glued to Luke’s body.

You thought you imagined the twitch of his foot, thinking it was where the medics were tapping his leg, trying to coax him awake. When you finally see his body try to roll over, you let out the breath that you didn’t even know you were holding. Your relief was short-lived, however, when you hear the scream that makes its way out of Luke’s throat. You’re not sure which one hurt worse, him lying there not moving or the scream of agony that’s currently echoing through the arena.

Your knees start to give out, eyes blurring from the tears falling down your face. Quinn catches you as you slide down the glass, holding your sobbing figure in a crouched position.

“Quinn, gotta go. Gotta go, locker rooms,” you manage to say between sobs, trying to stand and make your way out of the stands.

“Okay, yeah, let’s go. Let’s get you out of here.”

The fans watch as Quinn guides you out of your seats and up the stairs. Most of them familiar with you, you and Luke not being super private with your relationship. A lot of them are still shouting obscenities at the player who went after Luke, demanding he be suspended. Some of them give you sad smiles as you pass, hoping your rookie is okay.

You finally reach the entrance to the training room, knowing this is where they’ll have taken him before they decide if he needs a hospital or not. You can hear them in there talking to him, unsure if you should enter yet or wait on someone to come out and get you. You stand at the doors, staring into space, when Quinn decides to speak up.

“He’s gonna be fine, Y/N. Probably a gnarly bruise, and likely a concussion, but it could’ve been worse. I know its scary, but I promise, he’s going to be okay. Might not even miss more than a game or two.”

All you can do is nod at the words, unable to do much else at the moment. You try to give a small smile, but you think it comes across as more of a grimace. You turn your head when you hear the door to the training room opens, revealing one of the team trainers.

“Oh, good, you’re already down here. He’s asking for you. Wants you to know he’s awake and okay. Nothing’s broken, just banged up and a mild concussion. Probably going to have him follow up with a doctor tomorrow, but for now he just needs rest. You can go ahead and go in. He won’t be playing the rest of the night,” the man in front of you finishes, stepping aside so you can walk through the open door.

You turn back to look at Quinn, seeing if he’s going to come with you.

“I’ll just give you two a minute first. Go ahead, I’ll be right behind you,” he tells you, wanting a minute to process his own emotions before seeing his baby brother.

You nod and turn to walk into the training room, following the trainer down a short hallway before turning the corner into a room with three different treatment tables, Luke’s long body taking up the farthest one. His head is laying back on a pillow, a large ice pack taped to his right shoulder. His gear is laying in a pile on the floor next to him, completely bare from the waist up. As you get closer, you can see the already purple skin forming in the exposed parts of his shoulder and upper arm. You gasp quietly at the bruised skin, causing Luke’s head to snap up at the sound.

“Hey, pretty girl,” he rasps out, voice raw from his screams earlier.

You stop on the side of the bed opposite to his injury, unable to say anything yet. Tears still streaming down your face, looking him over for any other signs of injury.

“Hey, no need to cry, angel. I’m okay, see. Just a little bruise. Nothing to be worried about. You should see the other guy,” he tries to joke, being told he left a dent in the wall where he hit.

You glare at him through your tears, unhappy with his weak attempt at joke.

“Okay, yeah, maybe not the time to joke just yet,” he brings the hand on his good arm up to rub the back of his neck, looking away from your tear-stained face.

“You were unconscious, Luke…you weren’t moving,” is all you managed, staring at his injured shoulder.

“I know, baby, I know. But I’m awake now, see?” he gestures towards his body with his good arm. “I’m just fine. Yapping ability unaffected,” he once again tries to bring a smile to your face, this time it almost works.

“God, Luke, if you could’ve heard the scream you let out,” you shudder at the memory. “It was the worst sound I’ve ever heard in my life. I thought my heart was going to rip in two right there on the spot. I don’t ever want to hear the sound again,” you finally look at his face, noting the small cut on his forehead, you assume from his helmet.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry you had to witness all of it. I can’t imagine how it must’ve looked,” his tone apologetic. “If the roles were reversed, I don’t think I would have been able to keep myself from trying to climb over the glass to get to you. But I promise, sweetheart, I’m fine. Told me as long as my head’s fine I should only have to miss two or three games to let the bruise run its course,” he grabs your hand, rubbing small circles with his thumb.

“It was just so scary, Luke,” you sniffle, closing your eyes for a brief moment. You finally start to calm down now that his hand is in yours.

“I know. But now you get to play doctor and take care of me for a few days. Kiss all my boo boo’s better,” Luke wiggles his eyebrows at you, finally earning that laugh he’s been trying to get out of you since you walked in.

“That was probably one of the ickiest things you’ve ever said to me,” you laugh with Luke, fake gagging for dramatic effect.

Luke opens his mouth to say something else, but the the doors to the training room open, cutting him off. The familiar sound of skates against the floor making their way towards the two of you. Jack turns the corner, a frantic look in his eyes until he lands on Luke, awake and sitting up.

“I’m going to kill you for scaring me like that,” Jack points a finger, glaring at his younger brother. “I mean, why the fuck did you hit him, Luke! What were you thinking? You know how these guys are, they’re begging for any excuse to fight! They don’t care if you’re a 20 something rookie, they’re gonna hit back, dumbass!” Jack yells at Luke, throwing his arms around in frustration.

Luke winces at the volume of Jack’s voice, his ears sensitive to loud noises right now. Before you can get the words out to tell Jack to be quieter, Quinn enters the room and does it for you.

“Jack, be quiet for fuck’s sake. He has a concussion; you yelling at him is only going to make it worse. Yell at him later.”

“Well, it was stupid, Q. What he did was stupid,” Jack says in a normal tone of voice, still angry.

“Don’t act like you’ve never done anything stupid on the ice before. Just because you never get caught when you hit people doesn’t mean you don’t do it,” Quinn walks over to stand beside Jack at the end of the table.

“You good, Moose? Looked pretty nasty out there from where I was sitting. Scared us, man,” Quinn asks Luke, tapping him on the foot. You note the redness of Quinn’s eyes, knowing how much he cares for both of his brothers. The whole situation shook him up, too, you were just too worried about Luke to notice at the time.

“Yeah, m’alright. Head hurts. Shoulder feels like it’s been run over by the ‘boni, but other than that I got off pretty clean. Nothing’s broken. Have to miss two games at least, more if my head ain’t right,” Luke answers Quinn, moving his hand so he can thread his fingers through yours.

“Your head’s never been right, Moose,” Jack says, causing Luke to roll his eyes.

Quinn leans over to bump his shoulder into Jack’s, shaking his head, unimpressed with his joke.

“Wait,” Luke starts, causing everyone to look up at him. “Are we just not going to address the fact that Quinn randomly showed up to the game tonight?”

“Yeah, how did you get here. Shouldn’t you be in Vancouver right now?” Jack adds, looking over at his older brother suspiciously.

Quinn looks over to you, causing the other two Hughes to shift their gaze your way.

“Surprise?” you say as a question, not knowing what to do with all the eyes in the room on you.

“You did this?” You look over at Luke, nearly eye level with him, even though he’s laying on the table beside you.

“Well, I know you’ve been struggling with adjusting to life here lately, and you were feeling pretty homesick, so I figured it would be nice for you to have both of your brothers in Jersey for a night or two,” you shrug your shoulders, not seeing the big deal with your actions.

“Tried to get your parents here, too, but they couldn’t leave work right now. They sent their love and apologies, though. Promised me they’d be at a game as soon as they could,” you added, wishing you could’ve had all the Hughes here tonight.

“I….I don’t know what to say,” Luke looks at you, so much affection in his eyes it makes you squirm.

“Well, a thank you would be a nice start,” you joke.

“Thank you. I love you. So much. If I could lean over to kiss you right now I would,” Luke brings your hand up to his mouth, placing a kiss on the back of your hand clasped in his.

“Please, for the love of god, don’t make me witness anything else painful tonight,” Jack interrupts the moment, earning a slap to the back of the head from Quinn.

“Don’t you have a game to go finish, jackass?”

“Oh, shit, yeah,” Jack jumps, forgetting about the last period that’s about to start. “See you at home, Moose, Q. You, too, Y/N. Assume you’re staying over to help take care of the patient, yeah?” He nods his head towards the injured one in the room.

“Yeah, I’ll be there. Be safe, Jack. Good luck,” you wave as he turns to leave.

“I’ll go pull the car around, be back in a few to help you get this ole’ goon out of here,” Quinn announces before leaving you and Luke alone once more.

“So, you’re really going to stay over? Play nurse for me?” Luke asks, looking at you with puppy dog eyes, batting his eyelashes.

“Of course I’m staying over. I can’t trust Jack to make sure you’re not up and around doing something stupid when you’re supposed to be resting.”

“So, if you’re going to play nurse, does this mean we can stop on the way home and get you one of those sexy nurse outfits?” Luke asks, eyes hopeful.

“Maybe they should’ve just left you out there unconscious on the ice, you were less annoying that way,” you fire back, smiling at the laugh Luke let out, thanking your lucky stars your boy is okay.

#luke hughes x you #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes oneshot #luke hughes blurb #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes fanfic #luke hughes #hughes brothers #lh43 #new jersey devils #hockey #nhl blurb #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction #nhl oneshot

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samkerrworshipper · 9 months ago

Text

the monsters gone

part 3 of beautiful girl series -> part 1 -> part 2

leah williamson x reader, jordan nobbs x reader (wobbs as moms)

warnings: drug addiction, drug abuse, talks of illicit substances, depression, intrusive thoughts, would not advise for people in a bad mental headspace

You wanted her to leave, or you were desperate for a fix and well aware that it wasn’t going to happen until she was gone and you could retreat up to your room like normal.

You scratched at the incision on your forearm, it was hidden underneath your hoodie but you could feel it all the same, it made you feel guilty.

You’d never felt guilty for taking drugs, why would you? It was your choice, your body, your brain that you were fucking with. Yet for some reason, the little mark that you knew was sitting right on top of your vein was making you feel guilty. You didn’t want to admit it, but it felt oddly like the start of something, you weren’t sure what though, whatever it was though, it didn’t feel good.

When the door clicked open around 2 o’clock you felt far more at peace, watching your mom hobble through the door with Lia following her. Jordan stood up almost immediately and if the room hadn’t already been awkward then the awkwardness found a whole new definition as the two women looked at each other.

“Hey Jord, thanks for hanging around, you’re looking good.”

Your mom looked relieved to see Jordan, your ma on the other side looked slightly terrified as she eyed up the two women.

“It wasn’t an issue, you know I love spending time with my chick.”

Leah smiled, looking down at you on the couch, you buried your head in your phone, ignoring her gaze.

“Whether she admits it or not she likes seeing you as well.”

Your ma laughed awkwardly, it took everything in you to not burst out laughing at all of the tension between the two of them.

“Look I’ll be heading off, gotta me back in Birmingham for game review tonight but can we talk for a minute though Le?”

Your mom’s head cocked to the side, a look of curiosity evident on her face.

“Yeah sure, come with me.”

Lia watches them with the same look of curiosity as you, your eyes meeting as the trail back from the doorway to Leah’s office that they both step into.

“They’re talking about me.”

Lia doesn’t bother trying to ignore you or deny what you’re saying, she nodes her head.

“Probably, that’s what most parents do.”

It’s a absentminded answer, and for a second your aware that maybe Lia is in on whatever is happening, that she knows exactly what is going on behind the door. If anything important came from the phone call earlier you know Lia would be the first to know, she was like the third parent you never asked for nor wanted, but somehow ended up with.

“Ma thinks that Mom’s parenting is shit.”

Lia cocks her head, she’s harder to read then your moms, more calculated, more clean, less obviously emotional.

“She just disagrees with some of the things that your mother does, so do I. Nobody else is in her shoes though, she makes the decisions that are necessary and best for you.”

Lia sounds convinced of her words, even though you doubt them.

“Ma doesn’t think so.”

Lia bit down on her bottom lip, finishing with tucking her kit bag away so she could focus her attention on you.

“She worries about you.”

You did your best to suppress the eye roll, it didn’t work.

“She worries that mom is too nice and isn’t strict enough.”

Sometimes you thought that your mom compensated for the void between the two of you by letting you do whatever you wanted, other times you were reminded by your grandma that she’d told Leah she needed to go easy on you and that not everyone could be as perfect as Leah Williamson.

“Your mom knows what you need better than anybody else.”

The conversation paused, the two of you flinching at the sound of yelling from the other side of the door, you couldn’t make out what was being said, both of them were yelling though.

“Set the table for lunch for me, kiddo?”

You couldn’t pull your eyes from the door, you hadn’t hear your moms yell in a long time, it took you back to when they were breaking up, when they tried to act like they weren’t, when they saved the fighting and yelling for when you’d been tucked into bed and they’d thought you were asleep.

“Kiddo, table.”

You stood up from the couch, your eyes staying stuck to the door, even as you pulled cutlery from the drawer and laid it out with the placemats on the table. Eventually, the yelling ceased, and the room was over come with a silence like no other, only being broken by the door opening and your two moms walking out, both of them looking far more content considering that it had sounded like they were screaming at each other, not thirty seconds ago.

“Bubba, Jord is going to head off, if you want to say bye.”

Jordan’s arms opened up to you and as mad and confused as you were, you weren’t going to deny her. You walked around the table, leaning into her hug, wrapping your arms around her the same way she did for you, letting her hold on for a little bit longer.

“I’ll be back when I can chicky, I love you so much.”

You wanted to tell her she was lying, that they were all lying, they didn’t fucking love you, it was so fucking obvious. But for the sake of keeping the peace you didn’t.

“I love you too Ma.”

Jordan let go of you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. The same way she had when they’d adopted you when you were eight, the same way she had after your first game when you were 12, the same way she had when you were 14 and you’d been top of your form and given an award, the same way she had when she’d left for good when you were 16. It was the same kiss, yet everything about it was different, the meaning, the purpose, the intention, it was all different.

You watched as she walked out the door, the same as every time, you listened to the sound of her car starting and the sound of gravel underneath her tires as she pulled out and onto the road.

Once you were sure she was gone you turned around, sliding into a seat at the table, across from your mother, staring at her.

“What were you guys talking about?”

Leah looked at you, poker face as good as ever.

“Football, some other stuff.”

It was a obvious lie, both you and Lia knew it.

“You were talking about me, what about me?” Leah rolled her eyes at you.

“It was a conversation between your Ma and I, not for your ears.”

You didn’t bat an eye as Lia set lunch down in front of you, to fixated on your mother.

“You don’t yell over nothing, what were you talking about.”

Leah pushed her tongue out against her lips.

“Your ma had some concerns about you, that’s it, I told her she had nothing to worry about and that we were doing just fine.”

You knew that even if you didn’t want to admit it, Jordan probably had some valid points, your mom seemed unphased though.

“That’s it?”

Leah looked at you, and you could tell that she was holding something back.

“She told me that you’d told her you smoked weed last night and that you were vomiting this morning.”

You tried to keep your face from changing, keeping the confident exterior even if you were slightly scared on the inside.

“I got drunk, I had some fun, it was no biggy.”

Leah’s eyebrow rose in the trademark question.

“It’s a biggy to me because you told all you were doing was vaping and a little bit of drinking, you said you’d be honest with me and it’s clear you haven’t been.”

You hesitated for a second, the air thickening around you as suddenly the tension was between you and your mother.

“I was just having some fun mom, I didn’t do anything stupid, I was safe, just like you asked.”

Leah’s face shrivelled up as you used her words against her.

“You were out with friends I’ve never met, at a house on the opposite side of town that I’ve never been too, Jord said you looked like you’d been on a three day bender and I told her that I didn’t believe her but now you’re here admitting it.”

You reached into your pocket for your vape, desperate for something to take the edge of the conversation off, to make you feel calmer.

You pulled it out and Leah’s face immediately pointed inwards.

“How many times do I have to say no vape at the table?”

You frowned, shoving it back in your pocket.

“It was just a bit of weed mom, it’s what kids my age do.”

Leah shook her head.

“It wasn’t just a bit of weed, I’ve been smelling it on your clothes for weeks and trying to tell myself I was being delusional because you’d told me you were just on the vape, that you had no interest in drugs and yet you were lying to me, you have been for a while bubba and I don’t know how to feel about it to be honest. I thought we were closer than most parents and kids, I thought we had boundaries and that I was giving you enough space, and now I don’t know what to think.”

You pursed your lips, struggling to find words.

“And if you’re lying to me about weed then what else is there? What else is there you aren’t telling me because there has to be more. I let you drop football, I relaxed on the school because I know you were struggling but this doesn’t work if you aren’t honest with me.”

You really didn’t know what to say, your mind was in a million different places, the container underneath your bed, the joints on your windowsill hidden behind the curtains, the three vapes in your bedside table, the drug dealer numbers in your phone, what had happened last night, the meth track mark on your arm.

“Nothing, it was just some weed, I just wanted something to take the edge off, it was no big deal.”

Leah’s eyes closed for a second and you knew this was all about to get a lot harder.

“Except it was a big deal because you’ve been doing it behind my backs for weeks, I’ve tried to be understanding bubba, I have, I know it’s been tough for you with me and Jords breakup, you’ve had a really hard year, I let the vaping slide, I let your attendance drop at school, but drugs bub, it’s no joke.”

You took a deep breath.

“It’s just some weed, I don’t know what you want me to tell you.”

Leah wants to say that if you’re this relaxed about being caught doing weed then she doesn’t want to know what else you’re hiding from her that would make you less relaxed, but she keeps it to herself, or for this moment at least.

“I want you to bring me whatever you have of it, I won’t have you smoking illicit and illegal substances underneath my roof.”

You figured there were worse things that could happen, she could find your stash, she could take your vape, she could ground you or make you go to school.

“Okay.”

Your mom nodded, happy she had at least won a small battle.

“After lunch.”

You nod again in agreeance, looking down at the caesar salad in front of you and stabbing your fork down onto it, picking up the different pieces of lettuce and chicken scattered throughout.

You make it through half the meal before you grab your bowl and pick it up, walking into the kitchen to do you washing up, your mom follows behind you, her bowl empty.

You take the dish from her, cleaning it out and stacking both of them in the dishwasher, knowing whats to come now.

You slow yourself down on the stairs giving her the time to follow behind you as she dragged her bad leg up every individual stair.

Leah had been putting in hours everyday for her rehab, it was her main focus, over everything else.

Eventually the two of you made it to the top of the stairs, and eventually to your bedroom door.

You hesitated before opening it, you couldn’t remember the last time Leah had been inside it, way before her acl, ever since she’d gotten injured she’d been avoiding the staircase.

You opened the door, hand pausing on the cold metal doorknob for a split second before pushing it open.

Your room was still freezing, you didn’t miss how your mother shivered from the breeze that hit her face immediately, coming straight from the open window.

“Jesus kiddo, you trying to replicate antarctica in here? You know I pay good money for heating, right?”

It’s a lighthearted joke, yet somehow it hurts for you, you don’t know how or why, you just know that it does.

“I like it cold.”

Leah looks at you, both brows furrowed inwards.

“Alright then polar bear.”

You try not to flinch away when her hand reaches up to ruffle your hair, it’s something she’s done to you since you were a kid, it feels wrong now though.

“Let’s just get this over and done with.”

You walk over to your windowsill, reaching behind the curtain and reaching for the bag of joints that you have stashed behind the material. Leah frowns as you walk back over to her, shoving the bag into her hands before she can even ask.

“This is all of them?”

She looks completely unconvinced, you probably would be too, most kids don’t give up their drugs willingly.

“Yes.”

Leah looks at you, eye to eye, like she’s trying to reach into your soul, or read your mind.

“Bubba, this is your chance, I’m giving you an opportunity to be straight with me, and whatever you tell me or give me I won’t be mad about. I might want to sit down and question your decisions, but I won’t be mad. Teenagers are stupid, they make mistakes, they try new things, I get it. Be honest with me bubba, please.”

You didn’t really know what Leah was insinuating, but it was clear that she knew there was a bigger picture here.

“That’s it mom.”

You had to tear your eyes away from her, you couldn’t handle the way that she was looking at you, the mix of disappointment, resentment and worry mixed into her blue irises.

“Bubba, don’t make me search your room, don’t make me have to ground you, don’t make me have to call Jord and get her to turn the car around to help me out.”

You brought your eyes back to Leah’s.

“That’s it mom, I don’t know what you want me to tell you, I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

You were lying through your teeth and the fact you couldn’t look eye to eye with Leah would have been enough of a warning sign of that.

“Drugs bubba, that’s what I’m talking about, you’re lying straight to my fucking face right now, I don’t know what about or why but you are.”

You didn’t know what to say, you weren’t going to admit it, you couldn’t, but you needed to say something. Fuck, you were so fucked.

You tried to spin it in your head, tried to think about how you could make this work out. You were caught, you were done, this was bad.

Your eyes darted to below your bed, rookie fucking mistake.

Leah caught your line of sight, and you knew as soon as she did that it was all about to go to fucking shit, that you were done for.

“Lia.”

Your mom’s voice was urgent, a yell that had the swiss woman bounding up the stairs in a matter of seconds.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You were so fucking fucked.

You were frozen in your spot, your mom’s eyes looking at you like she’d just been stabbed in the heart.

“Bubba, you can get whatever you are hiding from me or I will get Lia to tear this whole room a part, I’m not fucking around.”

You felt torn down the middle, your brain couldn’t think, you felt the same sickness sink in from this morning, instead of it being withdrawals from drugs though it was the realisation that your whole life was about to be turned upside down.

You tried to think, tried to think about how you could spin this, make it a little bit better than it really was.

Lia looked more uncomfortable then possible, you wished a blackhole would randomly pop up and swallow all three of you.

Something hit you, it wasn’t a full resolution but it was better than what you currently had going for you.

You walked over to your bed, with unsteadier legs then last night when you were so drunk the world was spinning, crouching down when you got to the edge, feeling for the familiar container that held all of your deepest darkest secrets, or at least that’s how it felt.

It took you back to a time when you’d made Leah check under your bed everynight for the monsters under your bed, now though she was looking for the monsters in your head, the monsters that had turned her little perfect girl into whatever you were now.

Your hand eventually met the hard plastic, you pulled it out, biting down on the inside of your cheek as you stood up and sat down on the edge of your bed.

Leah took a couple steps closer to you, standing directly in front of you.

“Look, it’s not mine, I only did it twice, my friends bought it over, I swear.”

Half of it was true.

“Open the box, bubba.”

You felt your throat tighten, you felt like you were going to vomit, or pass out, or have a heart attack.

“Mom, I didn’t want to, I don’t even like it, I just did it because my friends were, I swear.”

It was also another half truth.

“Bubba, open the box.”

You bit down even harder on the inside of your cheek, reaching for the edge of the plastic box and opening it, revealing the two baggies of white powder inside of it.

Leah’s face fell, in a way that you’d never seen, you’d seen her disappointed before, this wasn’t it, it was something else entirely and you weren’t sure what.

“Bubba.”

Your mom was a overly emotional person, you couldn’t handle her crying right now though, you couldn’t do it, you couldn’t deal with her pretending she gave a shit when this was the first time in months that it felt like she cared, and it was all because of Jordan, not on her own volition.

“I swear mom, I swear, it’s not mine, I promise.”

It wasn’t a lie, it hadn’t started out as yours, you’re friends had left it behind after a weekend hangout and had never asked for it back, so it technically wasn’t yours, technically.

“Bubba, what is it?”

Leah reached for the box, picking up the two bags, the bags that you felt like held your whole life together.

“Cocaine, it’s just a little bit of coke, my friends were using it before parties, I didn’t like it, it made me feel dizzy and it hurt my head.”

The cocaine bit was a lie, but the fact you didn’t like cocaine wasn’t, it was the kind of stimulant which put you into over drive, the high lasted no where near as long and it made you feel like you weren’t making sense.

You were hoping she would believe the cocaine, inevitably, cocaine was a pissy drug. Leah would have been at thousands of parties were cocaine was handed around, hell, you were fairly certain your mother had taken plenty of it. Cocaine was less addictive, good cocaine was also stupidly expensive, the value of it was fucked. Meth was cheap but a thousand times more addictive, cocaine was a better like.

“Lia, get rid of it.”

Your mom handed the bag of joints over to Lia, as well as the bags of drugs, shoving them into her hands like they were burning her hands. “I don’t even know what to say to you bubba.”

Your mom looked genuinely at a loss for words, her eyes kept darting between your eyes and your hands, which were shaking in front of you.

“Mom, I promise, it was only a one time thing, really, I was just keeping it for my friends.”

As soon as the tears started spilling down Leah’s face you knew it was about to get bad.

She walked over to your desk, pulling the chair out from it and dragged it across the room until it was directly in front of you, your mother taking a seat.

Her hands came out to rest on your knees, they were shaking like yours, not as badly but still shaking, though for different reasons you assumed.

“You told me the weed was a one time thing, that was a lie. I don’t know what to believe anymore, you’ve put me in a impossible situation, bubba. On one hand, I want to believe you. I want to believe the kid I raised, on the other hand you haven’t given me reason to. You broke my trust, you lied to me, you broke the house rules. I don’t ask a lot of you, I let you get away with more than your ma would let you, and I was fine with it because you were showing me you were a good kid, but now I honestly don’t know what to think. You told me it was just the vapes, I thought you were using a little bit to much nicotine and now it turns out that you’re smoking pot and doing drugs. You’ve been hiding and lying and I just don’t get why. Why bubba? Tell me why.”

Big tears were dripping from your mothers eyes, big, wet, fat tears pooling in her icey blue eyes.

“I don’t know, okay? I’m sorry mom, I’m really sorry. I’m sorry. I love you, I didn’t mean it, it was just some fun, it was a one time thing, I promise.”

Leah pursed her lips, the same way you were, the sleeve of her shirt was pressed to her face, picking up the tears that were dripping down her jaw.

“I’m going to go and call your ma, this is a discussion we need to be having together, I need her here for this.”

Little did they know how bad it really was.

Leah stood up, you thought she would just leave, heading back down to make a call to your ma that would inevitably change your life, instead, she sat down next to you, her arms opening up.

You leaned into her side, letting her wrap both of her arms around you.

“I’m sorry mom, I’m sorry.”

It was the only thing you could think of saying, the only thing that sounded right coming off the tip of your tongue.

“I love you so much my beautiful girl, we’ll figure this out, your ma and I, we’re all going to figure this out.”

Leah held onto you for a little bit longer, her arms tightening onto you like you were holding her down to earth, like she would float away if she didn’t.

Eventually she let go, her face was puffy and red, her sleeves were red and she sounded all sniffly.

“I’m going to go and phone Jord, we’re going to sort it all out, we’ll figure this out, okay? We’re both here for you, we both love you so much, you’re our little girl.”

You found it weird how easy it slipped off of her tongue, you wondered if she actually believed that she meant it, you wondered if when your mother said it that she meant it without really meaning it. There were words but there were no actions to support those words, just empty syllables and letters all formed together in a intricate lie.

You watched as Leah limped her way out of your room, her bad leg trailing behind her good one, rule number one of parenting a child you now know is drug addicted, never leave them alone in a room they can escape from when you’ve just confronted them.

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