#THEY DESERVE TO BE HAPPY TOGETHER DAMMIT! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tonycries · 2 months ago

Text

Something Stupid - G.S.

Synopsis. Five times the strongest would rather díe than tell you he loves you, and the one time he almost does. Almost.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, friends-to-lóvers, canon fix-it, PINING, dry-húmping, face-sítting (fem receiving), creampíe, overstím, PÚSSYDRUNK GOJO, ríding him until he whínes, no smút until they’re adults obvs, slight ángst, manga spoilers, found family, THE HAPPY ENDING WE DESERVE, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 9.6k

A/N. Tumby lemme post this pwease? What canon? This is the only canon I know.

“Catch me if you-”

Sixteen-year-old Gojo Satoru doesn’t have the privilege of finishing his sentence - hell, he doesn’t even have the privilege of standing, apparently.

Because in the blink of an eye, his back is hitting the soft grass of Jujutsu Tech, followed very shortly by a bewildered you. Foreheads knocking together, your hands grabbing at his broad shoulders, his own wrapping around your waist for some sense of stability.

Years later, Gojo tells everyone that would listen - and anyone that won’t - that life became just a bit brighter ever since you crashed into his life that day - literally.

But right now, he’s opening his mouth to spit an irritated, “Watch it!”

It’s the first words you ever say to him, a shrill - almost hysterical - “Huh? No, you watch it-”

“Nuh uh, you-” Head spinning, shades skewed, it takes Gojo a few seconds to screw his bleary eyes open to the sudden newcomer straddled on top of him. And a few more to register that no, he wasn’t in heaven and hey, that uniform looks familiar. And, unfortunately, not even a split-second longer to breathe out something stupid, “I…I think I love y-”

“You stupid, moronic- wait what?”

The next few words out of his mouth are just as bad as the last ones, if not worse. Because yes he knows - for once in his life - that maybe he should just stop talking. He knows that even a moment longer with you is gonna turn his mind into more of a melty, honeyed mess than Six Eyes ever could.

Which is exactly what he blames when jumbling out a garbled, “Dinner tomorrow?” Wincing, Gojo swallows them back almost as quickly as he wished he was swallowed up by Geto’s rainbow dragon instead.

To your credit, you look a lot less bumbling than the strongest currently pinned underneath you. That look of annoyance on your pretty features melts into something of concern. And before he can dig a deeper hole for himself, you’re raising the back of your hand to splay out across his forehead.

“I didn’t think you hit the ground that hard but-” you raise a brow, head tilting to the side. “-I think you’ve got a concussion.”

Oh, yeah he’s definitely in heaven - that or actually concussed. Maybe both.

A low whistle sounds from his right - and soon enough he’s staring at the shoes of the other first-year he’d met just today. Low bangs hanging over his face, jostling with light cackles, “Haven’t they told you not to confess your undying love until at least the second date, Gojo?”

Nevermind, he was in hell.

“Ieri!” Geto turns towards the other girl, who was busy typing away on her phone. But Gojo could’ve sworn he heard the shutter of a camera coming from her way. “He was flown out of bounds, that’s gotta count as one point for me, right? And another for the pretty girl. You keepin’ score?”

She only sighs, “No.”

What’s a first day at high school without a duel between two of the proudly self-proclaimed strongest? And, of course, you - the fourth addition to their little group, hastily scrambling off of Gojo’s lap at the jeering laughter from above.

Dammit.

Later, he might apologize for running headfirst into you - might. Ignoring the pointed giggles, and the burning rouge at the very tip of his ears, to find out your name. And to make up some stilted excuse about how that was completely the concussion talking and he totally wasn’t serious about having dinner so please, please, please don’t snitch to Yaga about the impromptu matches taking place on school grounds…unless?

But for now, Gojo’s only lazily turning to look up at Geto, bringing a hand up to squint against the harsh sun beating down. Or, at least, that’s what it was meant to look like - “Technique amplification: Blue!”

He only hopes the property damage isn’t as high as what his poor heart had just gone through. Detention with Yaga be damned - and if by some grace of the universe he actually does end up escaping before he’s caught then, well, he’ll actually ask you out to dinner tomorrow.

---

Gojo Satoru is almost eighteen when he thinks that not even the Gojo family’s most expensive insurance will cover whatever curse you’ve casted on his poor heart.

You’re both well into the second year, and by now he’d been to twelve different doctors, five shamans, and Principal Yaga himself before Geto smacked him upside the head.

“Satoru, you complete imbecile-”

“Hey!” He fights out of his best friend’s grasp around the scruff of his uniform, crossing his arms over his chest with a whine, “I’ll have you know that I got the highest exam score last week, and I cheated only a little bit-”

Geto cuts him off with a sigh, wearily pinching the bridge of his nose, “No- you idiot. What do you mean you went to Yaga to girl-talk with him about your crush.” And when Gojo’s mouth falls slack, he’s smirking, “Oh- my bad, I meant your love-”

It’s said that Gojo’s gasp echoed all throughout the wooden corridors of the school - maybe even the entire grounds. Hotly, he’s sputtering out broken little excuses, “I don’t- what do you-” Before turning away to cool the burning of his sweetly rosy cheeks, “You’re the imbecile for spewing out such nonsense, Suguru.”

“Are you sure?” Geto turns to get a better look at the way those pretentiously expensive glasses fail to cover even the half of it. He’s never been able to, when it comes to you. “Because that’s quite literally the first thing you said to her-”

“I had a concussion!”

“After she touched you?”

And for perhaps the first time in the years he’s been wreaking havoc on Earth, Gojo is speechless. A welcome change for Geto, who mulls over in the silence while they loiter - very much missing whatever mission was assigned right now.

“I…” he starts, voice small. Pathetic, even. “...was concussed.” And before Geto can let out the same frustrated, dragged-out groan he often does whenever he’s around the two of you, Gojo’s plowing on, “But if I did lo- like her - hypothetically speaking - how would I even tell her?”

Usually, the other’s first reaction would be to tease his best friend. But at this moment he sounded so…young, painfully sincere in a way that was so disgustingly un-Gojo-like that he can’t help but cringe.

“Well, Satoru.” he muses, throwing a hand around his shoulder. “You just gotta…tell her my man. Preferably before that big mission coming up because I am not dragging your moping self around.”

He rolls his eyes, scoffing, “Gee, thanks. I’ll totally get on that tomorrow.”

“You’re welcome.”

BANG!

Yaga’s voice bellows, “Can you two stop doing this outside my office!”

And as much as Gojo hates to admit it, Geto was right - he usually was.

Well - perhaps not about the love part, but subconsciously, he found himself seeking out every tiny moment with you. Every second by your side - ignoring the other two bothers - was a new opportunity to just tell you. To break that thick solitude inside your little bubble with those little words. Ones that would go and spoil it all.

Not to be dramatic, but Gojo almost made a game out of it. Mouthing out the words whenever your back was turned - it started from “Dinner tomorrow?” to “I like you.” to something stupid that only gave Shoko aneurysms.

And, expectedly, “tomorrow” doesn’t happen to be tomorrow.

Tomorrow isn’t in your next class, or whatever mission Gojo tags along with you for “moral support.” Tomorrow isn’t the cozy little detention the two of you attend after catching Yaga’s interpretive dance routine - “that’s the scariest thing I’ve ever seen- even more than any curse.” you whisper fearfully to him, and he thinks he might just blurt it out right then and there.

Tomorrow isn’t when he’s just about to leave on some confidential mission with Geto, bidding you goodbye with a roll of his eyes and a hug he pretends he doesn’t like as much as he actually does. Tomorrow isn’t even when he’s baking in Okinawan sun, or strewn out bloodied and left for dead on the very grounds he met you on.

But oh how he wishes it was.

In that moment, incapacitated by Toji Fushiguro, and wondering where it went wrong, he thinks of you. Gojo thinks he’ll always remember you in every moment, and especially when they’re his last.

The Star Plasma Vessel mission and its aftermath takes up most of his mind afterward, even when he didn’t want it to. And all he can remember about tomorrow comes only a few months later, when an ashen-faced Gojo Satoru slams open the rickety door to your dorm.

“G-Gojo?” you sputter, sitting up in your bed. But before you can even think of reaching him, he’s crossed your floor in a few long strides. “Are you ok- mmpf!”

In an instant, he’s splaying out on your mattress, legs dangling off the end, strong arms wrapped tightly around your waist.

Your first instinct is to snap something snarky - but every tease at the very tip of your tongue vanishes when he buries his head into your lap. And you feel something wet, something drench though your skirt heatedly.

“Is…” you’re gulping thickly. “Is everything okay, Satoru?”

Ah, his name sounds too perfect on your tongue.

“Suguru…” Is all he shudders out wetly, jittery hands looping even more vice-like around your figure. “He-”

It’s just about the only thing he can get out, and it’s just about everything you need to hear before bringing his shivering body closer. Quiet. Steady. Rocking the strongest gently, while you hum a wordless melody. “S’alright. S’gonna be okay.”

Now, he thinks. Now now now now - tell her. Tell her. But when a tear of your own stains his shirt, he knows. Hauling you in even deeper to his chest, he prays you don’t hear his thundering heart. Perhaps tomorrow.

---

Gojo is twenty-one by the time he’s dragging you hand-in-loveable-hand through the winding hallways of an apartment in the heart of Tokyo. Mumbling excited little mutters, and almost tripping over his own feet with how fast he was navigating the corridors.

“Sato- S-Sato-” you’re squealing out, grimacing at the tugging burn of your hands in his. “Toru! Where are you- taking me?”

Sheepishly, he looks at you over his shoulder, “Whoops, did I forget to tell you- I have kids!”

He doesn’t know what’s louder - your shocked shout of “What? When?...By who?” or the screeching of his own two shoes skidding to a halt in front of that familiar door.

“Well, they’re not mine.” Gojo sighs ultimately, with a hand at the door. And that makes you quieten down just enough to hear his barely-audible little whisper. Determined. Reverent, almost. “But they’re mine.”

And when he finally opens the door, just one look at the tiny, black-haired little boy and his sharp scowl is all you need to understand. You’re whirling your eyes back to his beaming gaze, oh, Satoru.

Only mere moments later the two of you - accompanied by a very begrudging Megumi, and his sister - sit by the booth of one of your favorite cafés. Embarrassingly, he finds himself sighing while watching you crack jokes with the little girl. Turning to the server to order for her - it almost felt like a little family. Oh you’d make such a perfect mother. A completely objective observation, of course. Completely. Unless-

“You’ll never do it.” a tug on his sleeve has him facing Megumi’s leveled stare. How the hell does a kid manage to look like he’s seen the monstrosities of the world already? Gojo blames the father.

Baring his teeth, “The hell’s that supposed to mean?”

Little did he know that all it took was watching him seethe whenever the waiter by your side was just a bit too talkative, a bit too lingering with his gaze. In his little reverie, Gojo had accidentally croaked out a low, “I-” before you’d turned those pretty eyes his way, only to choke back embarrassingly on every syllable. Gesturing at you to ignore his little mishap.

“Tell her, I mean.” Megumi hums. Taking a wizened sip of his milkshake, “She’ll date that waiter before you if you don’t tell her.”

“That’s so…so stupid.” Gojo whispers back hotly. “I will tell her.”

“Will not.”

“Will too.”

“Will not.”

“Will-”

“Boys!” Your scolding tone makes them both jump - mainly Gojo, however, caught off-guard. Who scratches behind his neck when you wag a finger admonishingly, “Stop arguing, we’re in public. Now, as for payment-” Before turning back politely to the waiter.

“See?” Megumi counters, back to appraising the last of his cupcake. “You’re such a loser.”

Gojo’s gaze, however, stray back your way, as he found them often doing these days. Only to find them already on him, scrunched into crescents with a smile and twinkling so bright that he could almost catch his idiotic gawking in them.

Very pointedly he ignores the knowing roll of Megumi’s eyes, the exact type he’s seen too much with Shoko, and Nanami, and Utahime, and Yaga - and every single being to come into contact with his almost-tangibly hopeless feelings for you.

Instead, slamming that shiny new black card of his down in front of him - with enough fervor that the tabletop jostles, and you jolt out of your conversation with the waiter.

“I’ll be the one paying for myself, and my two kids and-” His burning eyes drink in every shred of surprise on your features. “-my wife.”

Somewhere in the distance, Gojo can hear Tsumiki giggle, and Megumi smack a hand onto his forehead. But right now he’s too busy remembering the exact degree to which your lips curl up, the way you hold back a laugh at the waiter’s jaw dropping. Nevermind the fact that the two of you were way too young to have two kids of this age.

“He was getting a bit pushy.” you’d conspire afterwards, now completely full and fatigued after a long day. “Thanks for that, Toru.”

Gojo sighs, flashing you a megawatt grin. If there were ever a time he thanks his Six Eyes for being able to memorize every little detail - every little feature in this picture - then it would be right now. He’s reveling in the bittersweet perfection. Yeah, he thinks, holding up a sleepy Megumi in his arms, maybe tomorrow.

---

There’s actually been about sixty different times over the years that Gojo knows you’d wanted to punch him straight in his face - and he’s sure, at the age of twenty-seven, that this is the very latest one.

“How did you get hit, don’t you have limitless?”

He shoots a wink your way, “Maybe I wanted you to patch me up?”

You scoff, “You stupid, moronic-”

“-no-brained, glasses-wearing dumbass.” he finishes for you, flashing you a cocky smirk that wouldn’t have been endearing for anyone but him. Gojo makes himself more comfortable on the hard infirmary bed, “You know, you’ve really got to update your list of insults, sweetheart. I don’t even wear the shades that much anymore.”

It was new - as soon as you’d cackled at the idea of him being a teacher with perpetual sunglasses, he’d wrapped that blindfold around his head. It was a slight shame, frankly, he was always honest with his eyes - but what was more important was that change.

Sweetheart.

Sometime after you’d intertwined seamlessly into Gojo’s mishmashed little family, he’d taken to calling you syrupy sweet nicknames. It’d started out as a joke, you think - with “sugarplum” and “honeybuckets” and whatever grocery item he could think of, before turning into something very, very real.

Though, they still made poor Megumi grimace in disgust just the same.

“Zoning out on me, babygirl?”

Yeah, sometimes they made you grimace in disgust, too.

“No-” you’re rolling your eyes, putting a little bit more force than necessary when you dab the warm napkin at those tiny specks of blood on his lip. “Just hoping you’d shut up.”

Gojo hisses, eyes crinkling at the edges - and you can’t help but think of how much older he looked than the disgruntled sixteen-year-old that swore at you on your first day.

“What?” his snowy brows raise, catching the hints of your laughter.

You take a moment longer to bask in the memories, before sighing. “Nothing. Just thinking about when we first met, s’been ten years already, hasn’t it?”

Of course, it has - it’s not like something the great Gojo Satoru could ever even think about forgetting. He remembers it in every cheesy selfie from high school you show him, he remembers in each and every one of your laughs at his overused jokes - the same ones he’d cracked way back then.

“It has.” he’s settling on after a few rare beats of silence. The thick white sheets on the bed rustle as he grasps your hand in his, “And I think I remember that today more than any other.”

It was impossible not to, when you’d just met your best friend after ten years. When you’d just killed your best friend with your own two hands.

Your pretty eyes shine with all the tears you’d been hiding, “Yeah? Guess so, huh?” Without warning, you bend down to meet your forehead with his, gulping back heavily. You knew he didn’t just want to be patched up, you knew better. And you knew that even the strongest gets lonely. Especially the strongest. Your voice is strained, quiet. “Do you think he’s happier now, Toru?”

Truthfully, Gojo doesn’t know.

But he whispers anyway, “I think so.”

To soothe you - and himself - if anything.

His eyes burn, and he’s scrunching them shut. A lump forming in his throat, Gojo can feel his entire being just rattle with the sudden wonder whether you’d feel it just the same when - if - he dies. Would you ask if he’s happy, too? Thinking he did and had everything he wanted in this life - not knowing he’s searching for you in every one? This life, and the next, and each one after.

“Sweetheart.” Gojo mumbles, eyes widening when you’re raising your head to look back at him, as if he didn’t even expect the words to fall from his lips. His jaw clenches, eyes flitting between your eyes and your lips like the rest of it was just threatening to wrench from his throat. “He- Suguru. Back in high school - before he…left- he told me-”

“Gojo sensei, where is the- Oh!”

The two of you jump apart as if it burned, and for Gojo, the angry split on his lower lip hurts infinitely less than losing your touch. Holding back a silent whine, he turns towards the dark-haired boy fretting by the doorway, “Yuta? Something wrong?”

“Oh, you’ve done it, newbie.” Panda’s deep voice sounds from behind the doorway, and he peaks his large head in. “Gojo’s got his serious voice on, should’ve just spied silently like me. I told you not to interrupt him and his wife.”

“You’re married?!”

“We’re not married!”

“Tuna.”

The room erupts in far too many voices, and before long you’re clapping your hands in that strict teacherly manner that Gojo teases you always learned from Yaga himself.

“Okay, that’s enough.” you call out, before turning to the newest first year. “Okkotsu, do you need help with anything? I’ll be right with you.”

“I…I really didn’t mean to interrupt.” he’s bowing with apologies, ones that you only wave away with a chuckled-out, “It’s okay, Panda’s joking. We’re not married or anything anyway.”

And Gojo doesn’t know whether the look Yuta gives him is more akin to pity or understanding - he prefers it be neither, which is why he’s covering his head with the blanket. Groaning dramatically until you’re turning your attention back to him.

You ruffle the amount of his hair peaking, and he has to screw his glassy eyes shut. “Toru, what is it that you wanted to say?”

“Don’t worry about it, it’s stupid.” His tone is unreadable, “I’ll tell you, hope- hopefully tomorrow.”

---

“Stay.”

“Sweetheart-”

“Stay.”

“Sweetheart.”

You’re barely holding up the clingy mess that is a twenty-nine-year-old Gojo Satoru. Huffing and puffing in a way that makes his heart and his arms around you just squeeze, “It’s not an option. You know I have to do this.”

How he wished he didn’t.

How he wished he could grab your hand and run away from the fight with Sukuna, hide in the countryside of his hometown and build a new life with you.

It’s already been a hellish few weeks trying to get Gojo unsealed, and you can feel the last few months pounding at your temples. You let out a sigh, one that has him holding back a strangely giddy laugh. But before you can open your mouth to yell at him to not go - or more accurately, beg him until he doesn’t - there’s a tentative voice speaking up from behind you.

“Um…sensei?” Yuji’s wide eyes sweep over his two teachers, being at Jujutsu Tech for a few months, he’s seen everything there is to see about the two of you. He saw the way you smacked the strongest when he got too mouthy, the way he let down limitless just so you could smack him. He saw the laughs, the looks, the way you’d flown into a frenzy when Gojo was sealed.

Everyone saw.

It was like you were crazed, and right now, only a month after his return - you were gripping onto Gojo like he was the only thing keeping you anything but.

So, it shouldn’t be new at this point. But he still can’t hold back the wonder in his voice, “I uh- wanted to ask about your robes for tomorrow- but maybe I can come back another time?”

“Yes yes, come back another time-”

“What robes?”

You narrow your eyes at the man, and that sheepish little curl of his lips does everything but soothe your worries. He knew you saw right through him, you always did.

Gojo’s exclaiming out loud, “Well- remember Toji-?” He waves his hands around, trying for a slightly softer way to say ‘the sorcerer killer and father of our honorary kid, who just-so-happens to be on a rampage right now’, before ultimately settling on, “-the worm guy? Well, I just figured I might as well take a page out of his book and dress like him, y’know since I’m fighting…Megumi after all.”

It takes a few seconds of stunned silence for you to find your voice, “You stupid-”

“-moronic, no-brained, blindfold-wearing-”

“-dumbass! You remember what happened to him!”

He bats his long, long lashes at you, “Why? Would you get this heated if I died just the same way he did?”

“No!” Your voice makes even Yuji flinch, which in turn has you reaching over to pat his head, “This is not on you, darling, of course. But your teacher here-” And it was comical, almost, the way the strongest stands up ramrod straight at just a leveled glare from you, “-will be getting it when he comes back from the fight.”

Comes back.

Oh, as much as Gojo throws his head back with chortles, he can’t help the way his heart twinges at the very thought of leaving you.

And he can’t be sure of just how long.

“Ah, you talk too much, pretty. I’ll tell Megs how much you miss him.” You’re not given a second’s warning before you’re back in his embrace - more steady, this time. His arms securely around your waist, like they’d been twelve years ago and never wanted to leave since. Lips pressed up against the thundering pulse at your neck, Gojo’s voice dips just a bit lower than you’re used to. Breathing you in, “I will, too, y’know? Very much.”

Jittery, he could feel every slight tremor in your nervous fingers when you run them through his hair, dipping into the ends of his black blindfold.

“Wh-what do you mean? S’only for a few hours, Toru.” you hum. “You better be back or so help me.”

“I know…” he heaves out, only pressing you close up against his broad frame. “But just in case- I-” Gojo’s voice cracks pathetically at the end, and he’s instantly too aware of Yuji’s keen eyes still watching. Edging up against the corner of the room like he wished he could have Gojo’s teleportation powers right about now. “-have something stupid to tell you. So I’ll hurry home anyways.”

You’re pulling back to quirk a brow, “Why not just tell me now?”

How he wished he could.

“Because it’s stupid.”

Later, Gojo will find himself strewn across jujutsu hall with Yuji himself - the only one, other than you, he thinks, that can stand to be around a weapon like him right now. Listening to the hum of cursed energy in the air, he gets himself ready for the fight.

“Why didn’t you tell her? Especially now?” His student pipes up, suddenly, and Gojo remembers with a sigh just how uncomfortably in tune he is with everyone around him. Fearfully, so. “That you lov-”

“Because it’s stupid.” the older one grins. Such a sad, warmly smile - and for perhaps the first time, Yuji thinks that Gojo Satoru looks his age. “And I don’t think she’d want to hear it if I don’t make it to tomorrow.”

---

“Stupid.” you mutter, biting angrily at your nails. Hot tears burn behind your closed lids, and you can’t help but tighten your hand even more around his cold, cold ones. Limp. Like death. “You’re so, so stupid.”

There’s no response. No sing-song voice finishing off your insults, no large and ruffling your hair until you have to bat him away.

Gojo Satoru was deathly still.

Laid out on the cold mattress of his room, you’d bugged Shoko enough to let you move him here, knowing how much he hated the infirmary.

“Being so reckless- having Yuta use your body-” in your fit of anger, you’re whirling your head up. Only for the pang of regret and grief to hit you tenfold all over again - because like this, he was too statuesque. A pretty mask of pale, what you’d give to have those eyes wink at you once more. “-if- when you wake up, I’m gonna kill you all over again.”

They told you he was dead - there was no point in waiting. In fact, you were sure there was a grave dug already, it was just a matter of how soon they could get to you.

It was a strange thing, to be loved just enough to get a burial. In the end, it was lonely.

And so stupid.

And at times, you felt that way, too. But all it took was one visit to where Geto’s grave was, a few long hours sat by his side, and you knew you couldn’t let Gojo escape you that easily. Not after everything, not after what he hasn’t told you, yet.

“Just wake up.” you sigh, the defeat bleeding into your every word. You run your thumb over the pronounced knuckles on his hand, calloused and scarred from his fight. “There’s so much to hear about. Higuruma’s alive, Nobara’s alive, pulling off that eyepatch. Like father, like daughter, huh? And Megumi- I saw Megumi laugh today. Yuji, too.”

Silence. Only stone-cold silence. He didn’t even move - not even the barest twitch of a finger.

“I just need you to wake up.” Your words are tumbling out a mile a minute, distantly, you wonder whether this was how Gojo felt when he first met you. How he couldn’t stop talking. Couldn’t stop wanting. “Shoko’s mad at you, y’know? But I know she misses you, no matter how much she pretends not to. I know that Jujutsu Tech can’t go any longer without Yaga, we- I need you. Didn’t even get to tell you-”

It’s all croaked out into a deafening silence, at least if you were in the hospital room then maybe the pinging of the heart monitor might’ve accompanied you. But they’d pulled him off that, too.

Unmistakable.

“And I know that I…” You bury your face into the now-damp blankets, “I love you.”

“And I love you.”

There’s only the split-second you take to snap your head up before lips are crashing onto yours - plump, slightly-chapped but something so sweetly Satoru. Before you can even think about kissing back, however, he’s pulling away.

Only to press hasty, chaste pecks again. And again. And again and again and-

Gojo kisses your wet eyelids, “I love you.” Your forehead, your cheeks, the corners of your lips. “I love you I love you I love you- and you beat me to it.” Those strained little words strike your very core - because it’s unmistakably Gojo. Sounding anything but, they’re broken and wrenching painfully out of his wracking chest. “So I just- I just had to-” Big, strong arms wrap around your middle - when did they even get there? It pangs somewhere in your hazy mind that you’re basically hoisted up on Gojo’s bed now, “-to do exactly what I’ve been wanting to since we were like this, thirteen years ago. Everything I’ve ever hoped for.”

“Everything?” you whisper.

“Everything. Even the strongest has dreams, y’know?” And he flashes you that smile you’ve missed so much, one you don’t think you’ve quite seen in years. “Even something stupid like ‘I love you.’”

That makes you cautiously glide over your palms onto the planes of his muscled chest, lightly pushing away to take in all of him.

It was him. Alive.

Really alive.

“Gojo…” you whimper, tears welling up behind your eyelids all over again.

“Ouch. Really?”

“Satoru.”

“Hmmm…”

“Toru.”

“That’s more like it.” The circled warmth around your waist crashes you even closer onto every ridge and divot of his hard chest, into the sweetest embrace - the kind you really couldn’t be mad about after your best friend had almost left you forever. “Told ya I’d come back, sweetheart.”

You could practically hear the sunshiney smile in his words, and his entire hulking body shook with emotion.

“You’re back.” you breathe, dancing your arms upwards to wrap around his neck. “You’re here.” It takes only a second longer of being in his burning proximity, to catch that pearly white smile - tired, and infinitely harder than before - to have some semblance of rationality dipping into your mind. “-and- and we have to tell everyone!” you’re yelping. Moving to scramble off of his lap, “Oh- fuck, and they thought I was crazy. We have to- have to have Shoko give you a check-up and have Kusakabe finally ditch those funeral plans and-”

You’re being shut up by Gojo’s lips on yours again, slow and sensual. It’s deeper this time, and he’s taking the time to part those candied lips of yours, sucking gently on the very tip of your hot tongue.

“My funeral is the last thing I wanna think about right now.” he chuckles against your lips.

“But-”

“Tomorrow.” Gojo soothes, craning his weary neck to kiss your forehead. “We can do all that tomorrow. But right now, I just want to spend time with the love of my life.” His cerulean eyes just gleam with unshed tears and even more unspoken words, “Doesn’t have to be forever. Just right now.”

As promised, he’s petting up and down your body lazily. Kissing you until even smiling felt bruised and raw. But it’s only when the air grows thick, when the slight jostle of your body on top of his becomes hot, his own skin burning soon after that Gojo lets out a sullen hiss.

“Toru-” you pull away panickedly, delicate strings of saliva snapping in the nonexistent air between you two. “We should really-”

“No- no no no no. Please wait-” Hastily, he’s bringing down a jittery hand to his hip, the buzz of reversed curse technique flowing through his thrumming veins. Meeting your uncertain gaze, “I’ve waited so long. Wontcha just let me worship you right now?”

As if to prove his point, he’s bucking upwards ever-so-slightly. The momentum teetering you precariously on his lap, dragging the heated core between your legs down in such a sloppy drag.

You’re gasping when the very outer edges of your panties rub up against something so hard, and rotund. Feeling the wet squelch of his angry tip gush out in a dripping wet wave at the friction. “A-are you sure?” you’re stammering, trying to hold back the way your greedy thighs were trying to rub together. Only achieving heavy, languid gyrations on top of the rock-hard outline of Gojo’s cock. “How about tomorrow? When you’re feeling better?”

It’s a slow, steady rhythm. There’s a ringing schwf! schwf! schwf! of sopping wet fabric, and it was driving him crazy.

“Right now please- haaa-” Gojo’s tongue lolls out so sluttily to graze against your own, dazed blue irises rolling to the back of his head. His spine curves upwards, abs rippling with a harsh drag of your clothed pussy down his weepy shaft. “Whenever you’d have me.”

Almost tentatively, your hips roll forward. That flimsy excuse of your panties bunching up with each grazing rub, it’s all you can do to not just keen at the utterly delicious curve of his thick girth. Throbbing and twitchy under each of your motions.

He’s hissing when your underwear snags on the very divot at his thick head, sitting up on two elbows, “S-sweetheart.”

“No, Toru.” your palms are back on his pecs, easily pinning the strongest down with a gentle push of your own. “Jus’ let me do all the work, m’kay?”

Gojo wasn’t all too happy - and the sullen pout jutting on his spit-glossed lips told you more than enough. But he wasn’t going down without a fight - that was for sure.

“F-fine.” he grunts at a particularly harsh grind of your hips. Fuck, he felt like some animal, humping up into you like he was out of control. He could practically feel your puffed-up pussy lips through his pants, he could almost taste it. Two rough hands come to rest on your hips, grabbing and kneading a handful of your ass. “But then you’re not just hah- sitting there, pretty.”

And, shit, even like this, you should’ve known better than to underestimate Gojo Satoru himself. Because whatever he wanted, he got. The one thing he didn’t was you - and now, since he had you, too, fuck- he might just be going insane.

Not a moment’s wasted before you’re being so easily hauled up, up, up the entire expanse of Gojo’s body. Jittery body being balanced easily as if you were some type of toy, up from the slender curve of his toned hips, up around where his broad deltoids were spread, all the way until your cunt was hovering over his needy mouth. “Can’t believe I hngh- almost died without havin’ a taste of this pretty pussy.”

“Toru.”

“Sweetheart.” he mocks.

You shiver with each feverish puff of hot breath blown right onto your clothed cunt. And even more so when you’re feeling such a long, slender finger slide in through the translucent fabric.

Fuck, Gojo swallows thickly, bunching up your skirt. You were so sopping wet he could almost see the outline of his index through your panties. He slides the back of it slowly up and down. Heavy balls squeezing painfully at the volume of your saturated slick collecting on his digit, just trailing glossily down to his deft wrist.

Mesmerized, your jaw falls slack at the sight down below of Gojo - cloudy hair mussed, cheeks all pink and burning a blushing rouge, tongue darting out to catch each stray drop of your sweet sweet juices. Drip! Drip! Drip!

“Oh- sh-shiiit-” he rasps, lowly, mulling over your honeyed taste. Sounding so awed, breath hitching when Gojo tugs your panties just enough to the side to catch a mere glimpse of your messy cunt. Glistening and winking down lewdly at him. “S’jus’ you n’ me right now, huh?”

You don’t know who exactly he’s talking to - and you don’t get to find out, because that’s all it takes for Gojo’s kiss-bitten lips to clash messily against your cunt - panties and all.

A soft swipe of his tongue glides the fabric to the side, so depraved, so needy that for that split-second he’s tasting you, he can’t even think of removing it. One taste of your sweetened pussy and he can’t even bear the thought of breaking apart, licking up in long, languid stripes that wet the very front of your swollen folds.

Just the taste of you had him palming desperately at the tent in his pants, rubbing up and down at a pace that matched his rummaging tongue.

The very edge of your tastebuds rub so deliciously in teasing circles around the corners of your dripping silt, your inner thighs.

“S-s’toru-” you’re letting out such throaty, dragged-out groans that send every drop of blood in Gojo’s body thumping to his achy cock. “Don’t be such a- a tease.”

You’re locking your glassy eyes with him and he feels like he could pass out. Groaning and smacking into your cunt, “Tell me- fuck fuck fuck- tell me what you want, sweetheart. Anything.” Your entire body arches into his hot mouth like such a slut, when he bullies between your folds. Barely flicking against the sensitive nub of your clit. “Everything. Anything for you.”

When you’re weaving your fingers deliriously through his silky soft strands, he babbles, “Oh fuck- yeah, pull on my hair.” One of his hands come down to grip onto your panties, pulling the fabric so that you revel in the filthy friction. “Use me while you ride m’face, okay?”

With that, his mouth is sagging open even further letting your thighs straddle the entirety of his face so easily. So close. So messy how he was carding his tongue from the very base of your pussy, up into your quivering entrance.

“Fuck–” you’re whining, grinding into his touch when he wraps his soft lips around your clit. Barely even easing you with syrupy, wet circles of his heated tongue before sucking. Harsh. Depraved. But so, so him. “Don’- don’ stop, feels too good–!”

You didn’t know if he heard you, fuck you didn’t even know if Gojo was even breathing.

Even if he wanted to stop - he didn’t think he could. Because he was so ravenous between your legs, forcing your pliant body into such smooth gyrations on his tongue. Silken, soft, such sultry licks of his tongue on your clit.

Electricity sparks behind your eyes when with a wet slurp! he smacks away from your pretty pussy, “You think- you think I can stop?” And he sounds so genuinely in disbelief, as if the very thought of it was appalling. Through heavy, lingering kisses and sucks onto your clit, Gojo’s managing to get out, “I can’t have enough. Fuck- please.” The very rounded pads of his fingers dig so bruisingly into the flesh of your ass, jiggling and kneading with every drag of your hips. He’s begging at this point, “Fuck yourself on my face. Rougher, faster, c’mon now. You can do it, my sweetheart.”

He was so fucking desperate, big fat tears almost welling in his eyes while he whined underneath you. Groping so obscenely at his sweltering hot erection. How could you not listen?

“If you say so.”

Using the vice-like grip on his locks, you’re managing to leverage your motions even deeper. Rougher, like he’d wanted. Every protesting creak of the bedpost was accompanied by a synchronized whimpering of ah! ah! ah! coming from both your mouths.

“S’it good?” he gasps, and all you could see was the flushed upper half of his features. And the lower half - fuck, though the peaks and cracks you could make out just how glisteningly wet it was with all of your messy cunt. His lips were just drenched, slick-soaked mouth making out harshly with your pussy through your panties. Trailing all the way down in a glossy sheen over the lower half of his face, dripping off his chin, fuck- up to his cheekbones-

As if that wasn’t enough, the massive palm resting at your thigh comes dancing down to tease around your sopping wet entrance.

If you were in the right state of mind, you could’ve sworn that you heard a sharp rip! coming from that poor tattered fabric of your underwear right then and there.

“Tell me- fuck fuck fuck- use that pretty voice of yours please.” Still suckling lewdly on your clit, his cheeks hollow out . Entire body just jolting upwards, forcing you to press down harder with your motions. “Use me. Use me.”

“S-so–” you mewl when his slender fingers bully easily past that first ring of muscle. So many cold inches of his digits, feeling around determinedly inside your heated, gummy walls for those sweet spots that will make you whine. “So loud, Toru-” you’re spitting, meshing his mouth even harder with yours down below. And you can practically feel him smirk against your cunt. “For someone that wants this s-so hngh! bad you sure are-”

There.

Right there.

Gojo Satoru had just crashed into the spongy cavern of your g-spot - easily, at that. And there was such a crazed, sloppy sting to each of his movements. Smashing in over and over-

“Heh…tha’s how I l-like it.” he’s spying up at your trembly thighs, the way his overworked lips were being coated with a fresh wave of our honeyed slick with each passing second. “Good girl- gooood fuckin’ girl–”

Hazily, you’re wondering whether it doesn’t hurt. Whether his weepy cock ached just as badly as it looked, how his tongue isn’t fucking cramping up by now.

But he goes on - like he couldn’t stop, like he was out of control. A greedy little push and pull, dragging his tongue all over until you saw flashes of white. Until you could only scream out his name like a mantra. Until you were cumming.

“Fuck- fuck fuck fuck- Toru!” your slurring out a mile a minute. Both of your hands now steadfast on his head, riding out your high all over Gojo’s pretty, pretty face. And he let you - fuck, he let you. “M’cumming- shit, feel so good. M’cumming-”

So good, so filthy that it made your toes curl, your hips stutter sloppily. Arching like such a slut, you could barely even see properly. Your breath was coming out in such labored heaves at this point, and Gojo wasn’t any better.

It was like he couldn’t stop, happily drinking up every single, sticky drop your cunt had to offer. Pussydrunken eyes drooping shut, unable to let out anything but satisfied grunts. The muscle of his tongue is just frenzied in eager slips and slides along your cunt - absolutely no rhythm or method right now. Sucking, licking, biting anywhere he could possibly reach.

“F-fuck–” you’re crying out tearily once the very peak of your orgasm fades, and all that’s left are a few overstimulated tingles being wrenched out by a greedy Gojo. “Toru, m’done.” You tug desperately on his hair - but even that doesn’t bate him the slightest bit. “S’getting too much- fuck-”

“Awww, too much for my girl?” he’s cooing, the words jumbling together in his drunken state. There’s a glossy mess of spit and slick drooling down the corners of his smirk. “Does this cute cunt of yours need a break?”

At your barely-lucid nod, it only grows wider. Smugger. “Too bad-” And Gojo’s just taunting you with a final, long lick up the very core of your pussy, “Because if I almost hah- died without her once, then you best believe m’gonna c-crawl back from death for ya each and every single time.”

It takes his strong arms - even bruised and battered through battle - only two whole seconds to plop you back down prettily onto his lap. Right over where his angry cock was just weeping for attention. And suddenly, it hurts without you. “So you’re not getting a break anytime soon. Maybe tomorrow.”

“Ha ha.” You’re rolling your eyes, “Very funny.”

“Mhm.” Gojo looks up at you through his white lashes, and you can only watch when he brings up his syrupy-sweet, glossy fingers up to his mouth. One by one. Sucking. Slowly, looking right into your eyes. It makes your mouth just salivate. “Got that right.”

The sheets billow behind you when you’re fumbling deftly with his shirt, all but ripping - tearing that stupid thing off of his form. Your skirt and top are soon to follow - his jaw clenches with the slight strain, leaving it in poor tatters on the floor.

“Shit- shit you’ve been-” his mouth just waters when your tits are released from your bra. Jiggling tantalizingly in his face in a way that makes him bury into it. “-been holding out on me.”

“Oh-” you let out, traitorously, at the first sight of each curve and divot along his milky sculpted body. Gojo Satoru was serious about dressing up like Toji, and no matter how much his t-shirt looked so sinfully painted on - actually seeing it was something else. “You’re so pretty, Toru.” You smooth your palms down his large shoulders, the faint scars between his pecs, his abs - that scar. Stark and large, Shoko had done her best work, but it still looked so painful. It must feel so, too, being sewn back together like some ragdoll. He catches the way your expression dampers - of course, he does. “Toru…”

Gojo winces when your fingers glide over that jagged scar. But if that was pain, then it was absolutely nothing compared to the pure, unadulterated fear when you abruptly pull your hands away.

“S-sorry- I didn’t mean to-”

“No!” he cuts you off, wrapping his long fingers around your wrist. All but dragging it - right along with you - to his still-healing body. “Touch me. Hurts more when you don’t.”

You’re batting your lashes up at him in a way that makes his heart stutter, and his poor, angry cock twitch. “Hurts me when you lie.”

“M’not lying, see?” With a low nod of his head, he’s gesturing you to look down - where it was unmissable.

Because straddled right in-between your pussy lips was Gojo’s erect cock - proud and so prominent, even through his pants. With the sheer girth bulging upwards you could feel your greedy pussy dampen over the cloth in anticipation.

“Well…” He’s throwing his head back when you knead your palm over the very end of his print, “I can’t quite see-”

Gojo takes the hint - and you have to bite your lip from teasing that it was quite possibly the only hint you’d thrown his way that he’d actually understood. But it was so hard to - not when he was this eager.

And, on those long, lonely nights, you’d imagined that your best friend would be suave, infinitely collected with things like this.

But, no, he was fumbling and jittery with his movements. So needy to please you that it takes you to help him pull down his tight, sticky boxers over the curving muscle of his thighs.

“O-oh fuck–” you breathe out, when he finally springs out. Sweeping up and down each and every long, thick inch of him - Gojo was as hard as if he was carved out of fucking diamond. Such a furious, rosy red at his leaky tip, glistening down, down, down into the most mouth-watering shade of creamy pink at his thick hilt. He was so big. Your thighs squeeze together in sultry need - with a slight tinge of fear. So unfairly pretty - even like this. “You’re- you’re so much bigger than I’d imagined, Toru.”

No sooner are the words out of your mouth that you’re being flashed with his dark smirk once more, “You imagined this?” There’s a slight reverence to his voice, scared.

It almost makes you shy - and Gojo can practically sense the waves of embarrassment rolling off of you.

“Awww, come back to me, please, pretty- Please-” he purrs, cupping your cheeks. “I came hah- back, didn’t I?” You’re being jostled to and fro when he rests himself more comfortably on the bed, leaning back to admire you further. “And now-” Your breath hitches in your throat when he situates himself right in-between your thighs, the fat curve of his head so swelteringly kissing your folds. Drenching it in his thick precum, “-now m’never gonna let ya go.”

Fuck, you know you should heave in a few gasps of hair, you know you should relax, maybe even stretch your legs wide open.

Because Gojo was so fucking big, it felt like he was splitting you from the inside out. Just the slight push of his tip bullying between your folds has you moaning - crying.

“You- you’re so big-” Your nails dig into the plush of his pecs for stability, leaving neat crescent patterns that stand out redly. “S’like you’re reaching into my hngh- l-lungs-”

Just those words have him expanding even deeper, ruddying even more furiously. Gojo gets so much bigger that you just can’t help but sink yourself down his shaft, feeling your elastic walls contort so easily around his length.

“H-heh– ohhh-” he breathes out - baritone voice lilting a few pitches higher than usual. The hands around your waist grab you even harsher, feeding you each inch by fucking inch of his fat, pulsing cock. “You got me- so–” His hips thrust upwards in mindless little jabs, “-fucked up, right now, sweetheart.”

And while all you can do is whine and moan around his unforgiving cock, Gojo babbles on, “B-better get ready ngh- because I’m gonna be riiiight-” His thick index draws and invisible line up, up, up to somewhere midway up your stomach. Before pressing down. Brandingly. “-here.”

The pressure is enough to have your hips just slamming down with a wet smack! all the way to his hilt. The slap of skin-on-skin rings through the heady air and into both your drunken brains, making him just throw his head back into the plush pillows.

“Yes-” you’re keening, your fingers wrapping subconsciously around Gojo’s pretty throat to have him facing you once more. He was so gorgeous this way - blue eyes falling shut with pleasure, mouth bitten raw and parted into a soft oh! pale muscles twitching with each breath. So fucked-out already that it almost made you think the sight alone could have you cumming. “Look at me, Toru- hah- gonna make up for lost time, right? Gonna fuck me good?”

His answering nods are more than enough, but Gojo doesn’t just stop there - no, he’s putting in every bit of last strength he has to just hammer into you upwards. Meeting every one of your relentless bounces down on him, he just clashes into your ravaged g-spot.

“Oh yeah, my girl.” he spits, a twinkling trail of drool dripping down the side of his lips. Crushing you so tight to his hardened front, “Ride me- ride me jus’ like that. Fuck- thought I saw heaven on the battlefield but it might jus’ be this pussy-” Over and over.

The back of your hand ends up on his forehead, “I think you’ve got a concussion.” It was in every little touch - that “something stupid.”

At your surprised giggles, he’s rummaging your insides even more ferociously. Smushing the very end of his thick head against your spongy cervix. It was so soft, so swelteringly hot having him inside you. Clashing in long, wet glides against every inch of your pussy.

The stretch was dizzying - and if it hadn’t been for Gojo’s lips attacking yours, then you’d have let your head loll backwards. It’s like he was marking you from the inside out, bruising the plushy insides of your cunt to every ridge and thumping vein down his possessive cock.

“Spit on me.”

His sudden plea puffs out of his plump lips, startling you out of your cockdrunk little reverie. “Spit on me, please, pretty. Mmpf-”

Gojo whimpers - whimpers - when the thick wad of your saliva hits his pink tongue, and the action has him delving into you impossibly deeper. Planting two feet onto the mattress, he angles his hips into your tight channel even harsher. Grimacing at the slight twinge of pain, “Shit-”

“Toru–”

“Wait wait- please- let me-” Expectedly, he’s cutting you off frantically. Begging, pleading with everything he had before activating reversed curse technique more. “Wanna fuck this gorgeous cunt so bad- fuck fuck fuck-”

But you’re only grinding your hips down faster - all the way from the pretty pink tip of his cock, until your ass massages against his tight, cum-filled balls. Thwacking! against your skin deliciously, pushing you up to scratch your clit against his snowy pubes.

A few more unapologetic kisses up against your sweet spots have you blinking back stars, “Toru–” Your swiveling motions have him so hypnotized, following every move where his massive cock was disappearing in and out of your snug hole. “Kiss me-”

Oh, you didn’t even have to ask.

It’s such a sloppy kiss - all teeth and lips and Gojo grunting gutturally into your mouth. Letting you just use him like your favorite toy, fucking him until the bed creaked with effort and Gojo’s balls just smacked! angrily.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he whispers. Drinking in your saccharine sweet gasps when he dips down one of his hands to your puffy clit, rolling the soft edge of his thumb in slow, methodical circles. “You’re gonna be the ah- d-death of me.”

Your hand around his throat tightens, making his eyes just roll back in ecstacy. “Better not die on me just y-yet, Toru. Not now, not tomorrow.”

For this, you’re being gifted with such a tight squeeze of his two fingers around your sensitive nub. Wracking your body forwards - exactly where he wanted you, exactly where he needed you to smash his sobbing tip into your g-spot.

The stimulation is too much, and each of your pressurized slams down onto the sharp bones on Gojo’s v-line have him moaning. Bucking up helplessly whenever your heavenly walls drag sloppily up his shaft, like it hurt to not have each and every one of his heated inches buried inside.

“Well- then-” You’re riding him now just as much as he was fucking up into you, leaving a damp puddle of slick and dredges of precum on the sheets below. Gojo’s punctuating each word with a harsh battering ram, “Better- cum f’me soon, huh? Because m’not gonna- fuck-” His nagging tip jolts into your sweet spots as if being zapped with white-hot electricity, in such a sloppy staccato with his feverish fingers. “-fuck I don’t think m’gonna last long.”

You’re nodding your head, clinging onto him like a second skin. “Mhm- m’so close, Toru.” Biting down wetly on his lower lip, “-gonna cum soon.”

Just the thought of it has him keening, stuttering up so messily. His precum coats your insides even more slippery slick, so heated in a way he thinks he might just explode.

“I know, I know, sweetheart–” he’s simpering down in your tone, though his hips were anything but. Letting out some of the lewdest slurps that made your ears ring. “I got you. I got you, cum all over my cock, yeah?”

It only takes a few more mess strokes from both of your sweat-sheened bodies before you finally reach your high. Electricity thrums down your veins, your body arches so deeply into his. Bending into the perfect bow that has him spying down at your quivering folds, the way your gushing cunt expands and contracts through each and every one of your waves of pleasure.

And he’s fucking you through it so filthy, fingers toying so erratically on your clit. Still reeling, still smashing the very divot of his cock into your bruised g-spot. Again and again.

“Ohh- fuuuck—” Gojo whines, eyes scrunching shut. Strained. Depraved. “Fuck fuck fuck me- please, please m’gonna-”

He doesn’t even get to finish his sentence before he’s stuffing your snug pussy full with ribbon after ribbon of thick, velvety cum. Potent seed coating your gummy walls in such a milky sweet gloss, the squelches from below are so loud. So soppingly wet.

The hand at your waist moves down to where your poor cunt was just bulging with all inches of his spazzing cock. Gojo’s thumbing apart the corners of your slit just enough that his swelteringly hot cum oozes out of you in a slow trail. Sinful.

“Oh my god-” he breathes, eyes unwavering. Hips thrusting upwards to push his cum up into you even deeper. It glistens opaquely down his length, forming a creamy ring at his thick base. “Oh my god love you- fuck!”

“Toru- m’so full-” you whine. A hand of yours coming up to press exactly where he had before, except now you could feel the nudging pace of his ruthless cock, the sloshing of Gojo’s seed all up inside you. “-really can feel you right here.”

“Tha’s the point, girl - my girl, should I say.” he’s pressing such a chaste kiss to your lips. And it would be swee - almost - if it wasn’t for the way Gojo’s greedy fingers soak themselves in the obscene mess from your cunt down below. Bringing them all the way up, up, up to his mouth. Suckling gently, “But…but you wanna hear something stupid?”

Your eyes widen, “Wh-what?”

And he only grins, “I hope you know I love you, sweetheart. Because you sure as hell aren’t walking tomorrow.”

A/N. Can y’all tell I’ve been widowed not too long ago? Anyways, last post before kínktober! I tried posting this on Sunday but it refused to work so pray for me this time y’all *SOBS* <3

Plagiarism not authorized.

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #tonywrites

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magpigment · 1 year ago

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expect fanart. of william and ashe. soon.

#they’re both just so emo and they can both see dead people and they should be best friends always who listen to music together #while acting like the other isn’t even in the same room despite the fact they’re leaning against each other drinking energy drinking #and sharing headphones #they deserve to be happy god dammit. ashe winters and william wisp solidarity forever and ever. i am ignoring canon as we speak #dandy talks #they are BEST FRIENDS your honor

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kennahjune · 11 months ago

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No Upside Down steddie AU where Steve gradually meets the members of Hellfire (-Eddie) in and out of school and they all come to befriending him really fast because “Steve Harrington is actually a good dude”

But Eddie fucking hates it.

And this only spurs Hellfire on because they think him getting mad over Steve Harrington is fucking hilarious.

Jeff who takes a foods class in third period and Steve does to and then the teacher pairs them for a baking project and Jeff gets to go to Casa Harrington. And he realizes rather quickly that Steve really likes baking and cooking and actually knows what he’s doing and that he’s not just taking the class for an easy A.

Brian (I’ve named him Brian, yes), meets Steve in Art class. Like Jeff, he thought Steve was taking it for an easy A but when seats are changed and they sit together he realizes that, no, Steve’s actually kind of good at drawing (particularly scenery). They get to talking about one of Steve’s sketches and the rest is history.

Gareth doesn’t officially meet Steve until later, but he does see him out with the kids at the arcade. Gareth works at the arcade and there’s this particular group of kids that just irks him— turns out they’re Steve’s gaggle. He watches in begrudging amusement while Steve rounds them up like a pro.

Then Gareth officially meets him after Hellfire one day. It’s fucking windy and he’s just leaving to school to go home when the papers and sheets he was holding are fucking torn from his hands. Steve grabs the papers— there after some kind of sports practice— and makes sure Gareth has them secured in his bad before leaving with a dorky finger-waggle wave.

And Eddie just downright refuses.

And then the school year ends and Steve graduates. And he’s convinced he doesn’t have to see Steve again.

Until, of course, Mike Dustin and Lucas join.

Jeff, Gareth, and Brian are all ecstatic to share their own run-ins of Steve Harrington to the three boys who so clearly idolize him. Gareth happily recalls how Steve “tamed” them in the arcade every time he came in.

Eddie sits in brooding silence.

And then Lucas joins the basketball team. And sure— Jeff’s on the volleyball team— but basketball jocks are so much worse than volleyball jocks.

Mike and Dustin, however thrown out of orbit they were at first, seem to settle in eventually and learn to plan around it. They think that anything that makes Lucas happy is a good thing (even if it did take a bit of a talk with Will for them to realize).

But Eddie? Eddie can’t stand it.

Which is why he refuses to move the date for the final campaign.

But Eddie doesn’t even get to introduce Vecna before Steve Harrington himself is all but breaking down the fucking door.

Eddie has this whole argument in his head that quickly dwindles when he sees the pure anger in Steve’s eyes (and also because Steve is really fucking pretty holy shit).

Steve tells Dustin Mike and Erica to pack up and get to the game before he drags them and you know what?

They listen.

Including hard ass Erica Sinclair.

And then idk Steve and Eddie get into a whole fight about.

But Steve makes it very clear that he doesn’t appreciate Eddie making Lucas feel like he can’t be happy doing DnD and basketball because that poor boy deserves nice things dammit.

And Eddie sleeps on it over the weekend before hunting Lucas down first thing Monday morning to apologize.

Lucas forgive Eddie (against Eddie’s protest because let the man grovel) but makes Eddie also apologize to Steve.

Which Eddie does by showing up to the Harrington Estate.

Eddie apologizes and they get high together and the rest is history.

I might actually make this into something, it’s already pretty fleshed out but eh

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cloudwisp · 7 months ago

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Wriothesley falling in love means you being the reason for his smile when he sees you for the first time that day. Even if it’s just the tiniest quirk at the corners of his mouth, it’s most definitely there and he’s usually seen in a better mood for the rest of the day. The Head Nurse notices this and after she made a passing comment, he can’t help but catch himself doing it the moment you come into his view and dammit was Sigewinne right about you—you do make him happy, more so than you could ever imagine.

Wriothesley falling in love means he can believe these things you tell him—about himself. You’re by no means naive but you always strive to see the good in people and understand their circumstances. Even when he questions what kind of man he is, you tell him he’s a nice person who looks after everyone beneath his care. Even if he’s got blood on his hands and has his regrets, you tell him it wasn’t really fair that he was pushed into that position in the first place. He still has some reservations about his past, but he appreciates being seen in a different light.

Wriothesley falling in love means he’s always a bit romantic with you. When you mention you miss feeling the sun’s warmth on your face after having to spend most of your time at the Fortress of Meropide to be with him, he plans a small outing in a scenic location to watch the sunrise/sunset together. (And he makes a mental note to take you on dates in the overworld more). When you pretend you’re getting overheated by snuggling too close to him and move away slightly, he pulls you back with purpose and a teasing smirk on his handsome features. “It’ll be cold outside of my embrace. You want to stay here… forever, right?”

Wriothesley falling in love means he’s allowed to be incredibly sappy and a touch playful and say all these sweet things because if there’s one thing he loves most about you—it’s the way you bring out the softness in him and you make it so easy for him to just be himself with you. Even someone like him who hasn’t been dealt the easiest hand in life is deserving of a tender and healing kind of love whether he believes it or not.

#ᨳ ₊˚ 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐩.𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 #wriothesley #wriothesley x you #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley fluff #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines

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teklarn · 29 days ago

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promise. - j. todd

masterlist!

jason todd x gn!reader

genre: angst bro. angst.

summary: jason knew his bad habits would eventually weigh you down. he just never considered how heartbroken he'd be after you finally had enough of his antics and broke it off with him.

i've done the math, there's no solution. we'll never last, why can't i let go of this?

warnings: killing, heavy-ish angst, no happy ending(?), just a really sad man, a little bit of stalking, insomnia

---

the gunshot ringing through his ears gave him peace, though it lasted only a second. so he fired another shot. another one, then another after that. he fired his gun until it was out of bullets. then he reloaded. then he ran out of bullets again.

and reloaded.

and shot until he was completely out of bullets altogether.

the ringing in his ears was almost deafening by the time he ran out. it was so loud he was cringing, scrunching his face together and rubbing at his temples.

his eyes fell on the mauled corpse in front of him. a criminal who'd been in the wrong place at the wrong time. because jason had been stalking these very streets searching to make a mess of someone.

just to blow off some steam, because hopefully, if he lost himself long enough in the bloody mess and the screams of his victims, it would help him forget you for a little while longer.

but it only made it worse somehow. yet every night since you'd broken his heart, he found himself here again. despite the ache in his chest every single time he planted a bullet in some petty criminal's forehead, every single time he was dragging his sore body back to his trashed apartment, he couldn't stop.

his body, his mind, his very soul wouldn't let him forget who he was, and why you'd broken his heart.

it was easier to think you'd broken his heart rather than him breaking yours. though that was indeed the truth. you'd broken his heart by breaking it off, but for the past year, he had slowly been tearing you apart.

every night, coming home bruised and in pain, every night with new blood on his hands when he couldn't sleep. it had slowly been breaking you apart.

he wanted to throw up when he thought of you.

because he was so utterly disgusted by the man he was. he let you slip through his grasp, and here he was, still not changing. still the same vigilante with twisted values and blurry morals.

jason wanted to be better. he just...couldn't be. this was who he was. who fate wanted him to be. the world was so desperate to make a monster out of him, so why should he try to be something else?

"i promise i'll be better. i'll stop killing, i'll stop going out at night. i'll be better, y/n. i promise."

those words haunted him. the last words he'd said to you before you pushed him out of your apartment.

yet here he was breaking his promise. he should show up at your door with flowers, with chocolate. with nice things he can't afford. he should be throwing pebbles at your window instead of out here.

jason knew that not one part of him deserved you. not the boy before robin, not the version of him who was robin, and not who he was now. he'd never deserved you back then, and he didn't deserve you now.

he should stop wanting you so much.

but dammit, you were so beautiful. and terrifyingly intoxicating. he was drunk off the image of you every single night. you were haunting him, and it was driving him insane.

his eyes focused, and they fell on the dead man in front of him again. boulders plummeted right into his chest. the weight of his heart was impossibly heavy; it weighed him down like a block of gold would.

jason didn't want to go home yet. he wanted to kill more. to stay out until the sun was rising, until the sky was blue and the city was alive again. he couldn't sleep knowing you weren't in his arms. and dammit, he'd even tried breathing exercises to calm his violent heart during sleepless nights.

when that didn't work, he'd tried unhealthy amounts of melatonin. for a time, that worked. but he couldn't spend money on that when he didn't have any. he could barely afford roses for you, so when he downed the whole bottle of melatonin just to get to bed for one night, he realized it wasn't worth his money.

so jason would rather waste all his time doing something―doing the only thing―that could make him forget about you, even for a little while.

this wasn't who he wanted to be.

he wanted to be a better man.

for you.

but the world had other plans. the world had plans to make him a monster.

no, the world had sent him a monster. the world let that monster wrap its gnarly hands around his throat, crushing and squeezing, suffocating. forcing him to chase everyone and everything out of his life.

he just wanted to love you like he was supposed to.

so jason wiped the blood from his hands onto his chest before setting off into the night. he wasn't invincible―eventually he'd need to get to bed.

so he set off to find the only thing that could currently make him feel safe enough to fall asleep.

with ease, jason climbed the fire escape of a nearby building and hauled himself onto the rooftop, a mere shadow in the night. he moved like an acrobat, swinging from building to building, finding his way around the city like it was a map tattooed on the palm of his hand.

the brick building before him was all too familiar as he settled on the fire escape.

jason was hilariously quiet as he stepped onto your fire escape, peering into the window, a warm light bleeding out. he tucked his huge figure into a ball, keeping his legs together so they wouldn't create shadows and startle you.

it was terribly uncomfortable, but not as uncomfortable as three sleepless nights in a cold bed.

there you were. he couldn't hear you, but he knew were you humming softly to yourself, preparing lunch for the next day. he'd caught you just in time―right before you were about to head to bed.

just a glimpse of you, knowing you were safe, knowing you were warm and somewhat content...it was already making him feel drowsy.

he knew you had no reason to go onto the fire escape, so he kept a tattered blanket tucked away in the corner. just in case he was nearby on a sleepless night like this.

well, he used nearby as an excuse.

realistically, jason could be half way across the city and still drag his sorry ass to your fire escape just so he could catch a lick of sleep. just to see you. or, if you light was off, it was just a comfort to know he was near you.

in some alternative universe, jason could have changed. he could have been better to you, and to himself.

he could have kept those empty promises like an oath, something to live by. maybe in that universe, he was working a nine to five, or you two had children. maybe none, and instead you two opted for pets. whatever pet you desired, of course.

as the fantasy lulled him to sleep, he promised himself to wake up before you left for work early in the morning. sometimes, on lucky mornings, he was able to watch you bustle about your morning routine. then you'd go off to work, and he'd be closer to you than ever.

him up here, you down on the sidewalk, making your way to work.

his heart ached.

"i promise i could have changed," jason whispered, blinking back the sparkly tears in his eyes. "if you just gave me more time, my darling. i could have changed. i promise."

even now, the promise felt empty. as he drifted off to sleep for the first time in three days, he tried to convince himself it wasn't.

UNEDITED

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #redhood #red hood #dc fanfic #dc x reader #dcu #batfamily #angst #angst no happy ending #jason todd angst #red hood x reader #gn reader #gotham

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mrm0rgansw0man · 5 months ago

Note

hi !! can i have a more angsty arthur fic of the reader admiring him from afar and wanting to give him all the love he’s deserving of but feels she doesn’t have the chance to ? :)))) happy ending would be nice maybe arthur reads a note of hers !

god i love writing angst. LETS DO THISSS

hope you enjoy!! Xx @risingtripletaurus

I can let you down, I can make you Hurt.

Bitter, freezing cold. That was all you felt. Just the cold and the ache in your heart. Your whole chest ached, from the cold or from the emotions you were feeling you didn't know.

This whole Blackwater fucked up mess was just what you needed. You had already been struggling, being new to the gang and trying to help out and earn your keep. And, not only that, but Arthur Morgan hated you. You were sure of it, you had no clue what you did to offend him but just until right before this mess he started pulling away from you.

He was always friendlier with all the women of the camp, but you and him had taken a liking to each other. But one day, it just stopped. The hellos. The cups of coffee he'd bring you every morning. The shared cigarettes. The random talks, it was so nice. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't fallen for him. You though he could be falling for you too, but looks like you were wrong. You knew it was too good to be true.

"You're so down." Charles said simply. You looked up at him, not even having noticed he came into the cabin you had been sitting in.

"I can practically feel it in the air around you." He continued. Your eyes flit away from him and back to the floor. You watched a few snowflakes melt into your boots.

"Why do you care?" You asked quietly. "I'm sure you've got much better things to worry about than my problems."

Charles shrugged. "Just wanted you to know I'm here if you want to talk. I'm not doing much lately, cause of this hand. So I've noticed more."

Tears welled in your eyes. You blinked them away before you thought Charles could notice. But he still did.

"I've never seen you like this before. I'm worried about you, (Name)." Charles said. His voice more stern now. "Ask anyone, it feels like and looks like, no offense, that the life has been drained out of you."

"It's jus' the cold..." You mumbled. "I'm fine Charles.."

"You know, I was sitting in this cabin with you for hours. You didn't move once. You didn't even know I was here, did you? And Abigail came in to try and talk to you, but it was like you were in a whole different world."

Uh oh. Fuck. He's got you there. You didn't even know Charles had come in, let alone Abigail.

"Have you ever had to love someone from a distance Charles?" You asked weakly. You finally lifted your head enough to meet his eyes.

"No." Charles said with a sigh. "But I can't imagine it's a great feeling."

"It's not." You said with a sniffle. "Not at all."

"Can I ask who it is?" Charles asked you cautiously.

You let out a choked cry. You took a few deep shaky breaths, trying to keep yourself together. It was getting harder and harder by the second. God dammit Charles why do you have to care?

"Arthur." You whispered, wiping away the few tears that managed to escape your eyes. "It's Arthur."

Charles didn't say anything, he only nodded. So you kept talking.

"He was so kind to me when I first started riding with you. We got on real well too." You said, finally starting to weep. Who cares anyways? "I started falling for him. Quick and hard, and could you blame me?"

"No, I was convinced he was sweet on you." Charles admitted. Though all it did was send more tears floding out of your eyes.

"He'd bring me coffee in the mornings. We'd talk. He always said Hi to me at the very least when we crossed paths." You said softly. "And he made sure I was eatin'- I mean you know how I was when I first got here."

"Always sick and thin as paper." Charles said grimly, having been on of the few people that helped take care of you during that hard time.

"Neither of us sleep very well, he'd come find me or I'd go find him. We had such nice talks on those nights, he opened up to me. Like really, really opened up to me. And I opened up to him too." You continued, your cries becoming harder and your voice rising.

"I don't know what I did!" You cried. "But one day it all just stopped! He wouldn't talk to me, he hasn't even looked me in the eyes Charles! I don't know what's wrong with me! I just want to love him!"

"Oh (Name)..." Charles started, but you cut him off.

"He deserves so much Charles!" You sobbed. "He is such a good man, no matter what he says when he looks in the mirror! I just want to love him, he doesn't even need to love me back! Do you know how pathetic that is? How disgustingly pathetic I am to love him like this!?"

You inhaled and exhaled at a frantic pace, running your hands over your tear soaked face. It was too much. You couldn't breathe. You wrapped your arms around yout face and buried yourself in your knees. Charles rushed to your side, kneeling down next to you. He placed both his hands on your shoulders and just stayed there, giving you something to hang onto. Keeping you grounded.

You finally lifted your head and met Charles's eyes, only to find them already locked on you.

"I just want to love him. T-that is all I w-want." You managed to get out between sobs. "And now I've lost m-my chance! I can't keep going like this Charles! He's- he's been through so much. That poor man has suffered and s-suffered and I just want t-to make him feel like he deserves something!"

"Arthur-"

"Needs me! And I need him to need me because look how badly I need him! If he doesn't love me the-then what am I supposed to do?!"

You broke apart, sobbing harder than you were before. Probably harder than you have ever cried in your life. Charles caught you, and he wrapped his arms around you. He let you sob and scream into his chest until you couldn't breathe.

"I just want a chance I just want a chance! I want to know what I did wrong!" Was all you could say, over and over again. Charles rocked you back and fourth, letting you cry yourself out. It took at least an hour, but eventually your cries had lulled to a stop.

Once your breath had returned to normal, Charles spoke.

"I'm going to go get Miss Roberts and Miss Gaskill. They'll take care of you. I'm going to talk to Arthur, don't you worry about this for another second." Charles said soothingly. It was all you could do to nod a yes at him. He pulled away from you, but right as he was about to reach the door you called out for him.

"Why are you being so kind to me?" You asked horsely. Charles looked back at you and gave you a small smile.

"First of all, I like you. Quite a bit, your a good person (Name)." He said simply. "And secondly, you haven't moved from that spot for over a day and you haven't even noticed. Someone needed to do something."

And with that, he left. You sat in silence until Abigail and Mary-Beth showed up. They tried to talk with you but you didn't have the strength to even reply to them. They accepted this, and helped you to your room and laid you down in your cot.

You laid there for what felt like hours, completely lost in thought.

"Glad to see your feelin' better, Miss." Arthur said, handing you a tin cup filled with scalding hot coffee. You took it gratefully.

"Thank you, Mr. Morgan." You said with a smile. "I've got to say I'm liking your company more and more each morning you visit me."

"Oh don't be too flattered, your jus' the only one up as early as me." Arthur said with a smirk, playfully elbowing you in the side. You chucked and hoped Arthur didn't see the blush spreading across your face.

"Well a girl can dream!" You said, that same flirty smirk crossing your face.

"Arthur! I need to talk to you!" Dutch called.

Arthur groaned in annoyance. He turned to leave, but at the last moment he turned back. He grabbed your hand and squeezed it.

"Meet me at the campfire tonight. We never get t' talk without gettin' bothered." Arthur said. You nodded your head happily as he turned to leave, running of to do whatever the hell Dutch wanted him for.

You felt yourself smiling at the memory, even if it was just a weak one.

That night at the campfire was the first of many, you two met every night you could. And that was when you truly began to fall for Arthur, those nights by the burnt out campfire. The last night it happened, you told him about your life before joining the gang, and why you were so sick when you first arrived.

"No one in my family was right." You said with a deep sigh. "My daddy hung himself in our living room right before my mama had me. And since then she just never had any happy in her head."

"Jesus.." Arthur mumbled. "Was your Mama good t'you, at least?"

"Pfft, no!" You said with a laugh. You took another swig of whiskey from the bottle Arthur stole from Pearson for you. "Beat me halfway to hell every other day. I think she had some disease. Think I might have it too, honest to god."

"D'ya really think that?" Arthur asked, taking a swig of his own whiskey bottle.

"I jus' get so low sometimes.. Not enough happy in my own head." You said sadly. "Not something I can really help, but it happens. Part of the reason I was so sick when I first got here, that and being out in the elements."

"What a woman you are, Miss. (Name)!" Arthur said with a laugh. "Survivin' yer' Mama, survivin' runnin' away into the wild, and survivn' yourself!"

Arthur and you spent a lot of time talking about your past life that night, so much time you had finished that whole bottle of whiskey. Bittersweet tears filled your eyes as you remembered what happened next.

You stood up from the ground, and wobbled your way over Arthur and poked him in the chest.

"Tell me, Mr. Morgan!" You slurred. "What have you survivedddd?"

"Oh sweetheart, we ain't got time for that tonight." He said, shaking his head at your drunken boldness.

"Pleaseeee Arthurr??" You whined, a wrong step sending you tumbling down into his lap. He wrapped his arms around you instinctively, and you smiled happily. It was a giddy childlike smile that Arthur would never forget.

Arthur had no idea what possessed him to do so, but he gulped down the last of his whiskey and started talking.

"My mama died when I was real young..." Arthur said, his voice going quiet. "My daddy was a thief, a petty one at that.. Wasn't even a real father. He wasn't good t'me at all. The lawmen got him when I was jus' eleven."

" 'M so sorry Arthur..." You said, wrapping your arms around him and hugging him tight. He rested his chin on your head and returned the hug, god it was so nice to be held like this. To be able to feel freely.

Arthur had no clue why he was so drawn to you from the very start, but ever since he first laid his eyes on you he couldn't get enough. He knew he was a goner, but he'd be lying if he said the thought didn't terrify him. Hell, sitting here like this with you terrified him! But even with the fear in the back of his mind, he could feel the whiskey clouding his thoughts and what little remained of the walls he so constantly put up crumbling.

Arthur went on about his family for a bit, and then told you all about getting taken on by Dutch and Hosea. He told you about what a deliquent he was, told you about when they brought John in. And Miss. Tilly. Then he told you all about a girl named Mary Linton, and about the love they used to share. You listened intently to every word, even in your drunken state. You prayed to whatever god above that you remembered this all tomorrow.

"I had a boy once." Arthur said, after a long stretch of silence. "His name was Issac. He passed on, though."

"Oh Arthur." You whispered, finding his hand and holding it tight. "I'm so sorry!"

"Some bastards killed him 'nd his Mama. Eliza." Arthur said, his voice breaking. "Shot 'em. All for a measly ten dollars."

"What is wrong with this world.." You murmred. Arthur just shook his head.

"I wasn't there f'him much. I shoulda been a better father to my little boy..." Arthur mumbled, his words starting to slur. "I was good to them when I was 'round, but that doesn't make up for nothin'. I'm a horrible person, (Name)."

You sat up, moving your legs around Arthur so you were straddling him. You grabbed his face in your hands, forcing him to look you in the eyes.

"Did you love his Mama? Did you treat her well?" You asked fiercely.

Arthur nodded his head frantically. The change in you startled him.

"Did you play with your boy? Did you hold him? Did you tell him stories, or sing him to sleep?" You pressed on, even with the tears forming in Arthur's eyes.

"Y-Yes!" Arthur said, stumbling over his words. "He was small, but he still liked to run. He liked being held-"

Arthur stopped, a strangled cry escaping his throat. You took your hands off of Arthur's face and wrapped both of your arms around his neck. He wrapped his arms back around you, burying his face in your hair and neck. Arthur thought that he should want to leave, but he realized he'd rather be buried alive then leave your arms right now.

"His favorite was 'Hush Little Baby'" Arthur said softly, you could feel the tears falling from his eyes now. "I was so happy to sing it to him the last time I...."

You sat up- which scared the wits out of Abigail and Mary-Beth-and covered your eyes. Trying to block out the image of what came soon after that.

The comfort you brought Arthur. The way he held your face in his hands. The kiss, so passionate. You both tasted of lust, whiskey, and pain. It was a fiery mix of emotions that sent you both stumbling into his cot and ripping off each other's clothes.

And then he wanted nothing to do with you.

"Honey? What's wrong?!" Abigail said, she wrapped her arm around you and Mary-Beth took your hands off of your face and held them.

Charles had given them a brief explanation of what had happened, but they were anxious for him to get back. They wanted to know what Arthur had to do with you being in an absolute state. They sent each other worried glances.

"When will Charles be back?" You asked with a sniffle. You leaned into Abigail and held Mary-Beth's hands tighter.

"Shouldn't be much longer, I promise honey." Abigail said.

"Want to tell us what's wrong?" Mary-Beth asked softly, she was testing the waters.

You looked between your two friends, and smiled weakly. God, you loved them so much.

"Okay."

»»———-　　———-««

"Arthur? Are you here?" Charles called out before going right into Arthur's room.

Charles found Arthur sitting on the edge of his cot. He was reading a letter.

"What is it, Charles?" Arthur said, still not looking up from the paper in his hands. Arthur didn't even seem like he was listening to Charles.

"Put that down. I need to talk to you." Charles said, his voice becoming more serious.

Arthur re-read the words written on the paper one last time before looking up at Charles.

'Arthur, please tell me whatever I did. I just want to talk to you again. Please, just talk to me whenever you read this. Your true friend, (Name)'

"You know, (Name) isn't doing good. She's been sitting in the corner of her room, curled up. Not moving, not talking. Nothing." Charles said simply.

Arthur's eyes widened, but he didn't say anything. Charles continued.

"I sat there with her for hours, and she didn't move a muscle. I watched Abigail come in and try and talk to her, but it was like she was talking to a wall." Charles said. "And that was after Molly had tried to talk to her for hours the night before. She's the one who came and got me."

"Is..is she alright?" Arthur asked, his nerves evident in his voice. He knew this was his fault. He could feel it in his bones. Oh god, he was a fucking idiot,

"No! She's not alright!" Charles snapped. "She barely even looks human! When I finally got through to her all she could do was cry! And she was crying about you!"

"No.." Arthur said softly. "Where is she now? I need to go see her-"

"You can go see her when we're done here." Charles said sternly. "Arthur, did you know she was in love with you?"

Arthur ran a hand over his face. Oh great, now he'd really done it.

'I'm such a piece of shit..' Arthur thought to himself. 'God.. Oh my god..'

"No." Arthur said. "I jus' thought... I don't know what I thought! I jus' didn't think she loved me."

"I just want to love him. He doesn't even need to love me back." Charles said with a sigh. "That's what she said to me, while she was sobbing so hard she couldn't breathe. And then 'I just want a chance! I want to know what I did wrong!'"

"I get yer' point!" Arthur shouted. "Jesus christ..."

"She's broken. Between having to be here, the whole mess in Blackwater and you completely disregarding her, she is broken." Charles said.

"I KNOW GOD DAMMIT I GET IT!" Arthur shouted, standing up from his cot. Charles stood firm, crossing his arms over his chest. He had said his part, now it was Arthur's turn to speak.

"Does.. Does she really love me?" Arthur asked weakly, taking off his hat and running his hands through his hair. Charles nodded. " I thought she was just' sweet on me a little bit, I thought I was jus' sweet on her.."

"Do you feel different now?" Charles asked. When he joined this gang, he never expected this would be the role he took on. Oh well.

Arthur stilled for a moment. He knew how he felt about you. But how could he even say it out loud, knowing how love had turned out for him in the past?

Mary had to leave him. Her father hated him because of his life as an outlaw.

His love for Eliza and his child only got them shot.

How could he condemn you, someone who has suffered and suffered, to a life with him? He wanted nothing more than to make you feel loved, protected, and cared for. He wanted to hold you like he did that night, to keep you close. To kiss away all your pain and never let you feel like you don't deserve it. Because you deserved the world, Arthur just didn't think he could give it to you.

And he was scared. He was so scared, so instead of being a decent fucking human he ran. And now look at what he did to you. Sent you right back to that dark part of your mind where you never wanted to be stuck in again.

"Yes." Arthur said finally. "But, how could I even try anythin' with her? I don't want nothin' happening to her cause of me! She deserves so much more than I can give her!"

"Arthur, I don't think you understand." Charles said with a deep sigh. "She doesn't want more! She isn't expecting anything of you! All she wants is. you."

"Why does this matter to you anyways! Who are you, t'come in here and talk t'me about this!" Arthur spat. "You have no right-"

"Yes I do!" Charles said, his voice rising. "I took care of (Name) when she first joined us, so I'll continue to take care of her now! She can't function! She needs you, Arthur! And I have a feeling you need her too."

Arthur stood there, glaring at Charles. He didn't know what to say. He wanted to scream foul things at him, for getting into his head like that. But he also wanted to thank him. For being there for you while he failed miserably.

"Figure it out. And then you go see her." Charles said coolly. "Don't go see her like this, she's not strong enough."

Charles left, Arthur's cold stare practically ushering them out the door. Arthur stood there for a few more moments, not really knowing what to do with himself. Charles had sent his mind reeling.

He knows what he wants to do. He wants to go to you, hold you, kiss you, tell you how sorry he is. Tell you that he loved you so much but he got scared, and instead of facing it like a man he ran like a boy. He never wanted to hurt you, but look how bad you were hurting now!

You loved him. And he loved you, but Arthur ran away and now would you ever be able to forgive him? He hadn't even told you he loved you! Arthur was sure he had already ruined everything. Not to mention the two of you slept together, which Arthur didn't even know if you knew it happned or not you were both so god damn drunk!

Arthur sat down and sighed. He took out the letter you left for him to find. He read it again, only this time he stopped over a certain line.

"Just talk to me."

It echoed in his mind. Arthur could practically hear your voice, begging him to talk to you. And he knew what he had to do. Arthur folded the letter up and placed it neatly in his pocket, before placing his hat back on his head. He made a beeline for the hut you were staying in with Molly.

»»———-　　———-««

You had just finished telling your sob story to Abigail and Mary-Beth when Charles returned, not even giving them a moment to react.

You didn't even look up at him when he came back, feeling so weak having to relive what happened with Arthur yet again.

"He's coming. I don't know when, he needed to collect himself. But he'll be here to see you, (Name)." Charles said softly. You nodded, reminding yourself to go and thank him properly when you were better.

"Miss Roberts, Miss Gaskill, please stay with her until Arthur gets here." Charles asked them. Of course they agreed. And then Charles left, god he needed a drink.

Abigail and Mary-Beth stay there with you, wrapped up in blankets in your cot. It was a comforting couple of minutes of silence before Arthur practically broke the door down and rushed into your room. Abigial and Mary-Beth said some hurried goodbyes to you before rushing out of the room.

You knew Arthur was there, but you couldn't look at him. You continued to lay down on your cot, wrapped up in blankets and facing the wall.

Arthur looked at you for a few moments, before taking a deep breath and starting to speak.

"(Name)" Arthur said softly. "Can I uh.. May I sit with you?"

You rolled over slowly, and forced yourself to meet Arthur's eyes. They looked just as broken as yours did when you looked in the mirror. You nodded yes weakly, and Arthur sat down on your cot next to you. He placed a hand on your shoulder, and you closed your eyes. Arthur saw the tears flowing from them.

"I'm so sorry honey." Arthur said with a shaky sigh. "I should never have pushed you away like that."

"You fucked me." You spat, opening your eyes to look at him. "You fucked me! And then you wouldn't even look me in the eyes!"

"You know!?" Arthur gasped, completely shocked. He didn't think you were sober enough to remember what happened that night.

"I OPENED UP TO YOU ARTHUR!" You yelled, finding the strength in your anger to sit up in your bed. "I GOT CLOSE TO YOU- I LET YOU IN! YOU KNOW THINGS ABOUT ME KNOW ONE ELSE DOES!"

Before you even knew what you were doing, you got up and started pounding your fists against Arthur's back. He was caught off guard, so you got a couple solid punches in before he turned around and grabbed you by the wrists.

"You FUCKED ME! AND THEN YOU THREW ME TO THE SIDE LIKE SOME WHORE! YOU MADE ME LOVE YOU! AND ALL FOR WHAT!? ALL FOR WHAT ARTHUR MORGAN!? IS THAT ALL YOU WANTED FROM ME FROM THE START!?" You cried, not knowing when the shouting stopped and your tears began.

You fought to get your wrists out of Arthur's grasp. But he wouldn't let you go. In fact he held on to you tighter, pulling you firm against his chest. He wrapped his arms around you tight and without even knowing what he was doing started peppering your head with kisses.

You punched, you sobbed, you screamed, you fought like a bat outta hell trying to get out of his grasp. But Arthur wouldn't let you go. He took every hit, every foul name and every insult.

Eventually, your thrashing stopped. Your sobs turned into small shaky breathes, and instead of punching him your arms were wrapped around his neck and you crawled into his lap. Arthur started rocking you back and fourth, and was whispering comforting things in your ear.

"I didn't know you remembered.." Arthur said softly. "Honey.. I thought I took advantage of you. I didn't think you'd wanna sleep with me if you were sober."

Arthur felt you softly shaking your head, but you didn't speak. So Arthur kept talking.

"I never woulda' acted how I did if I had known you remembered that night." Arthur whispered. "And, I can't lie to ya' honey. I was afraid. I didn't feel worthy of somthin' like what we had going on. I wasn't thinkin' right- actually I don't think I was thinkin' at all."

"Do you love me?" You asked, your voice a broken whisper. "Arthur I have loved you from the first moment I saw you. You know just as well as I do that there is some type of connection between us that we didn't even spark ourselves. Everyone saw it happen before their very eyes."

Arthur looked down at you, and you were looking up at him already. You looked like a scared little girl, and it broke Arthur's heart. How could he have done this to you?

Arthur swallowed thickly. It was now or never. He was afraid, but his fear meant nothing. Nothing mattered when it came to you. Arthur couldn't bare to lose you, especially not like this.

"Yes." Arthur breathed out, a small chuckle leaving him. "God, I love you so much. Please forgive me f'being such a goddamn moron-"

Before Arthur could continue, you grabbed Arthur by his coat collar and pulled him down into a passionate kiss. Arthur moved his hands to cup your face, using his thumbs to wipe the tears that fell from your closed eyes.

You kissed until the both of you needed to pull away for air, and then Arthur kissed you again. He never thought he'd be able to feel your soft and loving lips against his own ever again, so he made sure to savor every moment.

Once you had both caught your breath, Arthur sat there. He held your face in his hands. The love in his eyes sent a blush to your cold and tear stained face.

"I love you (Name) (Last-name)." Arthur said, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "S'much. More than you'll ever know. More than I'll ever be able to show ya' sweetheart."

You let out an airy laugh, and for the first time in a long time you felt like you could breathe. Your chest wasn't heavy anymore and it felt like your heart was actually beating.

"But I sure as hell will try. Like you said, there is somethin' between us that's not even we could control." Arthur said softly. The smile on his face sent butterflies to your stomach. " 'M so sorry I made you feel so horrible. I'll do everythin' I can to make this right. To make us right, honey."

"It's okay.." You whispered. "It's not entirely your fault, y'know I'm sick anyway-"

"Which is another reason why I shoulda' been smarter!" Arthur said, his voice soft still but also firm. He pulled you into another hug. "I need to keep the happy inside your head."

"You remember that?" You gasped. You were deeply touched that he had remembered something so small.

"I'd have to be dead to forget any of the talks I've had with you sweetheart." Arthur said, his tone nothing but truthful. You smiled into his chest, his words made you feel like you were floating on a cloud.

You both sat there in a comfortable silence, Arthur gently rubbing your back and rocking you back and fourth. You had your eyes closed, listening to the steady beat of his heart. Arthur noticed a shift in your breathing, and he knew you had fallen asleep.

As quietly and comfortably as he could, Arthur shifted so that you were both laying down again. Arthur wrapped you up in a blanket and let out a content sigh. This felt so right. So perfect. He was still scared, but he couldn't let it keep him from you. It was better to be afraid with you, so you could learn and grow together, instead of pushing himself away and hurting the both of you.

"I'm gonna give you the world, my sweet girl. Jus' you wait and see.." Arthur whispered. He planted a kiss on the top of your head, before drifting off himself.

»»———-　　———-««

a/n: i hope you guys enjoy this! ive literally spent all my free time on it the past few days lol i got wayyy to invested into this, but are we suprised at this point??? Xx

#arthur morgan #rdr2 #rdr2 arthur #x reader #arthur morgan x reader #red dead fanfiction #red dead redemption 2 #angst with a happy ending #angst #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan rdr2 #lots of angst #but also lots of love #arthur morgan angst #fic request #sad with a happy ending #sadnees #arthur morgan fanfiction

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vanishingcherry · 2 years ago

Note

Hello !! I hope you're having a good day!

Can I please request a Daniel Ricciardo X Reader Instagram thing, but can it be platonic??

Like just imagine being childhood besties with him, and now you work with him as his Assisstant or something, getting to travel all over the world together!! And the chaos that the friendship would have too :D

Also the face claim can be the one requested from the Lando thing? I don't remember her @, but the face claim was so so pretty 💕💕

Tysm :)))

here you go! its set in 2022, and there is slight romantic lando x reader. hope thats okay with you!

liked by yourusername, danielricciardo, landonorris and 94,857 others.

daniel3.jpg Smileys

view all 1,295 comments

f1fan isnt that the girl that lando is dating?

↳ dannyfan yess! shes childhood best friends with daniel, and is his assistant, thats how her and lando met

↳ f1fan ohh okk thanks!

landonorris whose the girl in the fourth picture?

↳ yourusername idk shes kinda hot

↳ danielricciardo @.landonorris stay away from my bestie

mclaren 🧡

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo, yourbff and 39,857 others

yourusername te amo sao paulo

view all 987 comments

prettyyn SAO PAULO IS LUCKY TO HAVE Y/N

danielricciardo you're supposed to be assisting me. not posting on instagram

↳ yourusername you're supposed to be driving. not commenting on my instagram

yourfan oh to be y/n

danielismylove its the way she was best friends with daniel and now this is her life. why wasn't i best friends with a f1 driver

landonorris pretty girl

↳ liked by yourusername

liked by yourusername, mclaren and 143,587 others

danielricciardo when @.yourusername gets lost in london and you have to spend 3 hours searching for her

comments on this post are limited

yourusername i didnt get lost. i was just exploring

↳ danielricciardo why did i get multiple calls from you explaining that your gps wasnt working and that i had to come find you

↳ yourusername i wanted you to join me and be the boots to my dora

yourbff you promised you wouldnt lose her. next time this happens im taking her back

↳ danielricciardo HOW IS THIS MY FAULT

↳ yourusername @.yourbff is right. this is all your fault how could you let me go exploring on my own

↳ landonorris YOU LET HER GET LOST?

↳ danielricciardo i give up

liked by f1, mclaren, lando norris and 823,475 others

yourusername a series of events that occurred the day daniel found out that lando and i were dating. he claims it was an accident.

view all 4,756 comments

danielricciardo i don't like what youre insinuating

↳ yourusername its not my fault im right

↳ danielricciardo YOU CANT BE MY ASSISTANT AND HIS GIRLFRIEND AT THE SAME TIME

↳ yourusername watch me

ynfan I DIDNT REALISE THAT THATS WHEN DANIEL FOUND OUT THAT MAKES SO MUCH SENSE

ilovedaniel im obsessed

landonorris my nose hurt so much that day mate

↳ danielricciardo you deserved it

landofan1 OH MY GOD LANDO'S FACE LMAO

liked by danielricciardo, f1, mclaren and 208,159 others

yourusername ive known you for as long as i can remember, and you've always been the best friend anyone could ask for. from the moment you let me try out your go kart till the moment you won your first grand prix, its been an honour to support you. the opportunity to travel the world with your best friend doesn't come along everyday, and ive never been more grateful.

i'm not very good at being sentimental, but for what its worth, you have all the love in my heart. happy birthday danny.

on a more serious note, he wet the bed till he was 10, pass it on.

comments on this post are limited

danielricciardo thank you ❤️

danielricciardo you were gonna make me cry until i saw that that last line. for everyone reading this, y/n had (has) the biggest crush on seb.

↳ yourusername dammit. and thats a lie, do not believe him.

↳ landonorris babe... seb? really?

#daniel riccardo x reader #daniel ricciardo #lando norris x reader #lando norris #platonic daniel ricciardo x reader #f1 x reader #formula 1 #f1 #formula one #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo social media au #daniel ricciardo social media #f1 social media au #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #vanishingcherry #leah writes ──⋆˚₊⋆ ๑

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saiyanprincessswanie · 3 months ago

Text

Need You Now

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky thinks about the hurt he caused you as he is left with memories of happier times. Does he get a second chance at life with you?

Warning: Angst, sadness, drinking, hope?

Word Count: 1125

A/N: Thank you to my beta readers @pigwidgeonxo & @lfnr-blog-blog-blog & @music-culture-mythology (any mistakes on spelling & grammar are my own. Did this on my phone)

A/N 2: This used to be a Dean Winchester fic but since I write for Marvel only I'm switching this to a Bucky Barnes fic.

A/N 3: Song fic, Need You Now by Lady Antebellum. Lyrics in Bold.

Reblogs & Comments on Tumblr are welcomed and encouraged. 😊💜

I do NOT give my consent to have my work translated or reposted on any social media platform, apps, or third-party sites. If you see my work anywhere else besides my personal Tumblr & AO3 accounts then it has been stolen. I will NEVER give written or verbal permission to repost or translate any of my fanfics as they’re MY intellectual property. 🚫🚫

Bucky is such a fool. He let the one person he loves the most leave after an argument. He said a lot of hateful things to push you away and it seems that this time it might be for good. Why couldn’t he see that he deserved a life away from constantly going on missions? You’re willing to settle down with him and give him the normal life that he always dreamed of. Now he is haunted by pictures of you both together in happier times scattered everywhere. His phone is in his hand ready to dial your number but would you pick it up? Has he crossed your mind as you have with him? Screw it, he dials your number and lets it ring. But you don’t pick up. God, he was such a fool to let you go.

Picture perfect memories scattered all around the floor

Reaching for the phone 'cause I can't fight it anymore

And I wonder if I ever cross your mind?

For me, it happens all the time

Bucky looks at the clock and sees that it’s a quarter after one in the morning. The feeling of loneliness swarms over him as he drinks his whiskey slowly. He thinks back to the sadness in your eyes when you ask him, “Are you sure you want this?” God, no he didn’t want this to end but he was too proud of a man to admit it. Looking at the locked screen on his phone he sees your smiling face. He wants to call again, though a part of him tells himself to let you go so you can be happy. Bucky doesn’t know what he’ll do without you but if this is what a broken heart feels like he never wants to feel it again. The other part of him is screaming that he needs you. He needs to see your smiling face, hear your laughter, and taste your lips. What he would give to have you come through that door again and tell him you can’t live without him. Though if he was honest he doesn’t know how he is going to live without you. Dialing your number again he silently prays that you will pick the phone up but it goes to voicemail.

It's a quarter after one, I'm all alone and I need you now

Said I wouldn't call but I've lost all control and I need you now

And I don't know how I can do without

I just need you now

Another shot of whiskey, can't stop looking at the door

Wishing you'd come sweeping in the way you did before

And I wonder if I ever cross your mind?

For me, it happens all the time

Bucky pours another glass of whiskey as he thinks about the life you could have had together. You both had talked about having a family one day and getting that little house with a yard big enough for a dog. Yes, that was the life that could have been. But it’s all a distant memory now. He should have never allowed going on missions so much to be the deal breaker between you both. He deserves a chance at a normal life. Grabbing the glass of whiskey he downs it in one gulp. Bucky promised he wouldn’t call but fuck it. While he has the courage he quickly dials your number and listens while it rings. After the fifth time ringing, it goes to voicemail. Dammit, he screwed up. He just hopes that you’re sleeping and not ignoring his call. Maybe he should try to sleep as he is feeling a little buzzed. Though how could he sleep knowing you won’t be there in the morning? As Bucky leans back on the couch he tells himself he would rather have these hurt feelings than feel empty inside. Unbeknownst to him, his finger dials your number again.

It's a quarter after one, I'm a little drunk and I need you now

Said I wouldn't call but I've lost all control and I need you now

And I don't know how I can do without

I just need you now

Guess I'd rather hurt than feel nothing at all

It's a quarter after one, I'm all alone and I need you now

And I said I wouldn't call but I'm a little drunk and I need you now

And I don't know how I can do without

I just need you now

Bucky shut his eyes for a few minutes and woke up to someone shaking him. He groans his disapproval and slowly opens his eyes. There you are staring at him with a sad smile on your face.

“Bucky, I saw you called me several times. Is everything okay?” You sound concerned as you ask him. He looks awful and smells heavily of whiskey. You notice the pictures of you both are scattered everywhere.

He looked over to the clock on the wall and it was just after three in the morning. You came over this late? “I’m fine, sweetheart. I was just drinking some whiskey. No need to worry about me.”

“Does this have anything to do with the argument we had?” You question him as you look at how much whiskey is missing from the bottle.

He sighs. “No, yes, maybe. I just wanted you to know I didn’t mean anything that I said earlier. I don’t know what I would do without you in my life. I want the future we talked about. I want out of the Avengers if you still want to as well. Just say the word and it’s done.”

Tears spill down your cheeks as you nod your head. “I do want that but Bucky you hurt me. Saying you don’t want kids…”

“I was an idiot. I do want them with you. I want the house, the yard, everything. Just give me a chance to prove myself to you.”

A small smile flashes across your face. “Well, I hope you’re serious because Bucky I’m pregnant.”

Bucky sits up quickly and pulls you into his lap. He kisses you passionately, tongues slowly dancing together as you grip him harder against you. When he pulled away so you could both breathe he let out a chuckle. “I’m so freaking happy.” Finally, everything is going to be alright. You need each other and so both of you vow to never make drastic decisions again. Today is the beginning of your forever, just the three of you.

***

@americasass81

@astheskycries

@awesomerextyphoon

@caffiend-queen

@caplanbuckybarnes

@denisemarieangelina

@fictional-affairs

@georgiapeach30513

@get0verit

@hollybee8917

@joannie95

@jobean12-blog

@jtargaryen18

@jvanilly

@labella420

@lfnr-blog-blog-blog

@madscape

@mdemontespan1667

@missvelvetsstuff

@mrsmischief209

@mycrazyasslikestoread

@nekoannie-chan

@noellez-best-life23

@notyourtypicalrose

@patzammit

@princessofdarkwinter

@rayofdawnworld

@spectre-posts

@sweater-daddiesdumbdork

@talia-rumlow

@thefallenbibliophilequote

@what-is-your-plan-today

@wolfsmom1

#saiyanprincessswanie #missy writes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x fanfiction #need you now

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luvvrz · 2 months ago

Text

The Odyssey Fucks Hard [Poolverine, 18+]

AKA: how the movie woulda went if I was at the table

Additional tags: ermmmm very gay 🤭 pain kink most def, lacks foreplay just right into the nasty, also a slight bit of degradation but not much

OTHER WORKS

He's fucking grinning. Logan doesn't know why, there's blood in his teeth and a blade in his fucking abdomen, but he's grinning. Maybe he likes it when prey fights back? Or, better yet, maybe he likes it when someone can keep up.

Wade's still talking - when is he fucking not? You'd think in some bad ass fight scene like this one, the motherfucker would attempt to indulge. You know, less yapping and more punching. Then again, the man wouldn't be able to shut his goddamn mouth if it literally sewn shut. Sources? I won't elaborate.

Nonetheless, Logan's on top of him, and he's got a set of claws tucked neatly into his side. Wade arches up with a hiss, and they're pressed together, and *Christ*, the man's all muscle. Surely it's to be expected, but Logan doesn't enjoy using his brain often. It's not that he's stupid, he just... doesn't care enough to think. Neither does Wade, clearly, his next strained words a testament to that.

"No cup? I mean, you're prehistoric, so I know there's probably not a lot of swimmers left, but it's the principle, you know?"

Logan growls, fangs bared as his other hand swipes up to promptly wrap around the other's throat. He squeezes with a vegence, eyes narrowed and face twisted up in a bitter fury.

"Shut the fuck up. You haven't shut your mouth for one goddamn second since you showed up."

This prompts Wade to smirk, a sight hidden beneath the mask, but the way the eyes of it crinkle up is more than enough proof. Logan hates him. Logan doesn't think he could possibly hate anyone- or anything, more.

"Ooh, fiesty. Watch it, Wolvie, I'm into degradation. At least take me to dinner, first."

Logan snarls, grabbing a fistful of Wade's mask to yank his head to the side, slamming it into the nearest window. The man groans, a sound that Logan all-too happily chooses to relish in. They're still pressed together, chest to chest and hip to hip, and- holy fuck, is he genuinely twitching beneath me?

The anger on his face gives way to shock, if only for a moment, before that ever-present scowl is returning with a vengeance. Alas, he is a man, a man who is in constant denial of enjoying things simply because he doesn't believe he deserves it. Still, that doesn't stop his own dick from twitching weakly in interest, making Wade's head shoot up.

God dammit, he could practically hear the amusement in his voice.

"Is that a claw, or are you just happy to see me?"

He doesn't even have time to finish his sentence before Logan's claws are embedding themselves deeper into his side, as much of a promise as it is a warning. Wade's head falls back with a throaty groan. He is getting off to this, the kinky son of a bitch.

Still, no one addressed the elephant in the room, both figuratively and literally. Sure, it's been brought up, but the real question is, what is going to be done about it?

Wade's still talking a mile a minute, and Logan's sanity is slipping through his fingers.

"Calm down, baby girl, no need to blow a fuse. Sex is a perfectly normal thing that happens when a mommy and a daddy love each other very much, there's nothing to be ashamed about-"

You'd think a man that was almost 200 wouldn't have the kind of speed Logan does, but then again, Logan is not your average man. He's ripping Wade's mask up with a quickness even light itself would envy, meeting his lips in something of a kiss. Sure, it's all teeth and tongue, and he's growling like a pissed off bitch in heat, but... it's a kiss, as far as Wade's concerned!

As far as Logan's thought process goes, though, he just wanted quiet in the peanut gallery.

For the first time in this history of Marvel Universe, Wade Wilson is quiet. The air itself is silent, waiting on a baited breath to see what happens next - only broken by Logan's growling.

Logan doesn't break the kiss, not even as he begins to undress the man beneath him. The Wolverine is a man of many things, but patience is not a virtue he possesses, nor particularly cares for. A single claw extends to cut Wade's suit off him, resulting in a whine of pure despair.

"Hey, I was fondled like a French girl for that goddamn suit! Careful with the merchandise."

Logan cuts off his yapping with a particularly rough nip to the lip, sending the welcome taste of copper spreading over his parched tongue. The claws are on his own suit now, and for a moment, he's tempted to look for the zipper just to spite the other - but then again, his dick's throbbing and he'd honestly rather skip the formalities.

Unceremoniously, the suit is cut away, and soon enough, the pair are pressed closer together than pussy lips in a g-string. Wade's scars extend far below the collar, Logan's come to realize, and he retracts his claws only to temporarily ghost his fingertips along the divets in his skin. The gentleness doesn't last for long, though - as soon as he finds the hem of Wade's boxers, those, too, are being torn away.

Wade fucking giggles, twirling a strand of non existent hair as his other hand comes to cover his dick - not that it mattered much. If Wade Wilson had anything to be proud of, it was his fucking cock. His hand didn't leave much to the imagination.

"Careful, shnookums, I'm shy."

Now, a better man would've maybe indulged in some foreplay, maybe even prep. But Wade's a big boy, he can take it. Plus, maybe the stretch will give that mouth something else to focus on besides being the most insufferable being on the planet.

And so, Logan rather unceremoniously spits into his palm, before stroking himself. One pump, two pump, three, before he's deemed himself ready. He knocks Wade's hand away, before thinking better of it, and uses his own free hand to grab both his wrists and pin them above his head. The resulting smirk is instantaneous, and Logan can fucking see the gears in his head turning, preparing for another snippy remark.

Logan decides that he simply won't give him the chance.

His hips are pushing forward, brutal and impatient, and the initial stretch has them both gasping like a fish out of water. His grip on Wade's wrists tighten, bushy eyebrows furrowing as his mouth parts in a silent groan. His eyes flutter closed as he tries to focus on anything other than how freakishly tight Wade's ass is.

And Wade, he isn't much better off. If Deadpool is anything, it's a goddamn pain slut, and the sudden burn has stars exploding behind scarred eyelids. It's a strained grunt, more akin to a whimper, and his cock jumps angrily against his belly.

For once, the Merc with a Mouth has nothing to say - and not because he didn't want to, but because he can't.

There's something triumphant in Logan's eyes at that, a selfish sort of victory. A cruel, condescending smirk as he leans closer, tilting his head minutely. The pace he's settled into, it's rough, punishing, and Wade's brain simply isn't working as quickly as his mouth. The man's attempting to babble, but all he can muster is a few broken whines, and a guttural 'Jesus fucking Christ.'

"If I knew that cock was all it took to get that fuckin' mouth o' yers' quiet, I would've stuffed this fuckin' hole hours ago."

The Odssey fucks hard, Wade reckons, but Wolverine fucks harder.

#What the fuck am i doing #deadpool and wolverine #deadpool 3 #deadpool #wade wilson #logan howlett #poolverine #smut #wade x logan

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inmyheaddd · 3 months ago

Text

beneath the surface - averyjameson

a/n: literally couldn’t write them fighting for another second because they are the cutest couple 💔 masterlist wc: 735 taglist: @x-liv25-jamieswife @littlemissmentallyunstable @wish-i-were-heather @thecircularlibrary

@heartwithsimplenotes @whatsamongus @anintellectualintellectual

“everyone says that we’re “such opposites”, wondering how do we even stand eachother, how we’re even together, dammit, jameson, maybe they’re right!”

her hands moved around as she spoke. they’d been fighting for the last 10 minutes, but their voices only started to really pick up just now. they both hated yelling, but there they were.

“you really think that?” a chuckle escaped his mouth as his voice grew louder.

“yes jameson, i do! i- i don’t get it sometimes.” her voice quivered as she yelled, taking a breath and speaking again before she could stop herself. “i don’t get you.” she let it out quietly, she didn’t even want to say it out loud — didn’t even want to think of it as a possibility.

the crease in his brows dissipated immediately, his face was telling more signs of concern and anxiety now. “heiress, you get me more than anyone ever has.” his voice was quieter now and he stepped closer, eyes never leaving hers as he cradled her face with his hands.

“then let me know,” she pleaded, her eyes glossy, “tell me, jameson. you keep silent about all these feelings and you don’t open up, you just pretend you’re all happy and drink your hurt away.”

his hands dropped from her face, and that somehow hurt more than any words could. “you want to talk about not opening up? avery, i love you, goddammit, but you can’t tell me about how you’re feeling for the life of you.”

avery was silent as she swallowed thickly, knowing that he was right.

she expected him to say more, to continue to tell her how awful she was, how much of a burden she is. but nothing came, only heaving, heavy pants from jameson and a headache on her end already starting to seep in.

“i know. i’m sorry, i know.” she couldn’t meet his eyes, her chin slightly dropping.

“heiress, i can’t tell you about how im feeling when i take one look at your face, and know you’re hurting much more than you could possibly bear. it’s impossible.” he raised his hand back up to gently raise her chin.

“i love you.” he said it like he meant it with his whole being, and he did.

“i love you.” she mirrored back. “i’m sorry. i’m trying, i really am, but ive gotten so used to—“

she cut herself off, seeing the look on jameson’s face, he knew her inside and out, knew all the reasons of why and how she did things. he didn’t need to hear her say it, and it would only hurt her. he knew that.

“i’m just… i’m sorry.”

“heiress, you have nothing to be sorry for. and i’m sorry for ever giving you the idea that you had to be.”

she shook her head, opening her mouth to speak but jameson took over.

“please don’t try and defend me, let me say this. you deserve the world and i want to be the one to give it to you.” both of his hands were on her face again, “i have this nagging feeling that telling you how i’m hurting makes me less than. i just want to be perfect for you, in a sense.”

“jameson,” she shook her head, “it doesn’t make you less than, it makes you human. you’re absolutely perfect for me. you’re perfect in every sense.”

jameson’s eyes flickered to her lips, then back up to her eyes, silently asking for permission to kiss her. he felt like his words would betray him, like they could never convey just how much he truly appreciated her.

avery leaned in and their lips immediately found a rythym against each other. he could taste the salt from her tears earlier, and silently hoped that it would be the last time.

as avery pulled back and rested her forehead on his, she whispered into the space between them, “i hate fighting with you.”

“i know. you have no idea how much i hate it.”

“i want us to be better.” she sniffled with her eyes closed, “i don’t want to lose you.”

jameson’s hand slid down to intertwine with hers, “you’re never going to lose me.” he promised,

“we’ll figure this out. we always do. no more silence, no more hiding, no more running away from what scares us.”

avery lightly squeezed his hand, “we’ll figure this out.” she echoed.

jameson pulled her into a hug, and the silence suddenly felt a lot less heavy. they weren’t perfect, but they were trying — for eachother.

#averyjameson #avery kylie grambs #jameson hawthorne #the grandest game #the inheritance games #grayson hawthorne #xander hawthorne #nash hawthorne #lyra catalina kane #tig #tgg #avery x jameson #❦ jude writes

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winchesterwild78 · 4 months ago

Text

Hunters and Secrets pt 2

Master List

Characters: Dean Winchester x Reader (dating), Sam Winchester x Reader (friends), Eileen

Warnings: angst, fluff, SMUT

A/N: Had to get out of my head today, so I wrote the 2nd part. The 3rd part is coming soon too. Things are just so crazy right now in my head, I needed to write. I truly appreciate all of your love and support with my writing.

This is a short series I’m working on. Does not follow the Supernatural storyline. Inner dialogue in italics. This is a work of fiction, not a reflection of real life. No disrespect to anyone.

This is my own work, please do not take it or copy it without my permission. I wrote it fast and edited it fast. Please overlook any errors.

Minors DNI 18+

Weeks had passed since the vampire hunt with the boys. The three of you were taking a much needed break in the bunker. You and Dean had noticed Sam was leaving the bunker more and would come back at odd hours of the night.

“I think he’s seeing someone, Dean. I bet it’s Eileen.” You snickered while laying in his arms. “Well, good for him. She’s nice and can keep Sam in line. He deserves what we have.” He pulled you close. “I agree, but please don’t play big brother and interrogate him.” “What?! Me, never.” Dean chuckled.

It was about 2 am when you crawled out of bed and went to get some water. You heard the bunker door open as softly as it could and soft footsteps come down the staircase. You stepped into the war room and waited.

“Samuel Winchester, you’re home after curfew.” You laughed as you turned on the light. Sam jumped, “Ha ha, very funny. You scared the shit out of me, Y/N.” You laughed, “Sorry Sammy, but what’s got you sneaking in here at 2 in the morning?” You inquired. “I’m not sneaking.” He responded defensively.

You smiled at him “Sam, whoever she is, I’m happy for you, we’re happy for you. You of all people deserve to be happy.” You hugged him. “Yeah, thanks Y/N. I appreciate it. We’ve been seeing each other for over a year now. Honestly, I’m in love with her.”

“Wow, Sam, that’s great. How does she feel about you?” You felt a pang of sadness and jealousy in your heart. Sam could say “I love you”, why couldn’t Dean? “Well, she loves me too. We both said it tonight. It took us completely by surprise. We had just…um..well, you know.” You nodded in understanding. “She was laying in my arms and I said it, then she said it. It was perfect.”

“Oh, Sam. I’m happy for you. Now, who is it?!” You asked enthusiastically. “Um, well it’s Eileen.” “Ha! I knew it. I told Dean it was.” “What!? How did you know?” “Sam, we’ve practically grown up together, I know when you’ve got feelings for someone. It’s okay, your secret is safe with me.” You smiled, hugged him and walked back to your shared room with Dean after saying good night.

When you walked back into the room and saw your boyfriend sleeping peacefully on the bed. A pang of sadness filled you when you thought about Sam and Eileen confessing their love for each other. You knew Dean loved you, you just wished once you could hear him say it.

Crawling back in the bed, you laid on your side with your back to him. Silent tears fell from your eyes and started to soak your pillow. Dammit, get yourself together, Y/N! He loves you, deeply and truly. You don’t need him to say it. He shows you he does every day. Of course, hearing it would just mean so much to you. Even if he said it once. To hear him utter those three words.

You continued crying softly while arguing with yourself about the need to hear him say “I love you”. Eventually you stopped and fell back asleep.

Dean woke up earlier than you. He looked over at you sleeping beside him. Your face was etched with pain. A sliver of light danced across your face and he saw dried tears on your cheeks. His heart filled with sorrow. Why didn’t I hear her crying, and why was she crying? God I hate seeing her like this.

Dean slowly pulled himself out of bed, trying not to disturb you. You shifted in your sleep, gave a soft, sad, moan and rolled over. Dean stood there staring at you for a few minutes, then left the room.

His bare feet padded down the hallway, towards the kitchen. Sam was sitting at the table drinking coffee. “Hey ya, Sammy. What time did you get in last night?” Sam looked up from his coffee and said “About 2, did Y/N not tell you?” “She’s still sleeping, did she get up when you got home?” “Yeah, she scared the shit out of me when I came in. I wasn’t expecting her to be standing there.” Dean chuckled, “Yeah, no, she must have been planning to tell me she saw you when she got up. Hey, Sam, did she say anything to you? Like anything that’s bothering her? I noticed this morning she’d been crying.” Dean asked with concern in his voice.

Sam stood there thinking about your conversation, reality hitting him like a ton of bricks. “No, we chatted for a second and then she went to bed. She didn’t say anything or give me any indication something was wrong.” Sam knew. Of course he knew what was wrong. He told you that he and Eileen said “I love you” and he knew his brother had never said it to you. You acted like it didn’t bother you, but he knew deep down it hurt you. Everyone knew Dean was in love with you, but everyone knew it was hard for him to say it. Even to Sam, he couldn’t say it.

Dean ran his hands through his hair and sighed. “Okay, thanks man. So, what brought you home so late?” Dean wiggled his eyebrows. Sam looked at his brother and laughed. “Dean, you’re such a child. I was out with a friend.” “Does this friend have a name?”

Sam rolled his eyes, “Yes, she does. It’s Eileen. Are you happy, Dean?” Dean slapped Sammy on the back in a congratulatory way. “I am Sammy. You deserve to be happy, we both do.” “Yes, Dean, we all deserve to be happy.” Dean looked at Sam a little confused when he emphasized “all”.

“What do you mean by that, Sam?” “Dean, we both know you love Y/N. What I don’t understand is why can’t you tell her?” “What are you talking about, I tell her that all the time.” “No you don’t Dean, you’ve never said those words to her, hell to anyone.” “Why do I have to say it? Aren’t you the one who always says “actions speak louder than words”?” “Yes, but sometimes it means something to actually say the words too.”

Dean got more irritated standing there. “I don’t have to defend my relationship with her to you or anyone. She knows I love her!” Sam threw his hands up in defeat, “okay, Dean. I won’t say another word.” Dean growled and walked out of the kitchen towards your room.

You were just waking up as he walked in. “Good morning, beautiful. How’d you sleep?” He kissed your forehead. “Okay I guess. I woke up and saw Sam come in about 2. I didn’t want to wake you.” You stretched. Dean sat down beside you on the bed with concern in his eyes. “Hey, you okay, sweetheart? It looks like you’ve been crying.” He took your hand. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just stupid hormones or some crap. I got in my own head last night. I’m sorry I worried you. I’m okay, I promise.” You leaned forward and kissed his lips.

“Hey”, he tilted your face up to look at him. “You know how I feel about you, right?” “Yes, Dean. I know you love me. Why? Where is this coming from?” “Nothing, don’t worry about it. Just Sammy and I got into a little disagreement. It’s fine.” “Dean, you can talk to me. You know you can tell me anything, right?” He nodded and stood up.

You stood up and hugged him tightly. You weren’t sure what they argued about, but part of you figured it had something to do with how he felt about you. “I’m going to jump in the shower, I’ll be in the kitchen soon.” You kissed his lips and grabbed some clothes.

Dean got ready and walked back into the kitchen. He started cooking breakfast and Sam came back in. “Look Dean, I’m sorry. I was out of line. Your relationship with Y/N is none of my business. I know you two care deeply about each other. I’m happy you have each other.” Dean looked at Sam, “I appreciate it Sam. I get it, I have a hard time expressing myself, but I really do care deeply about her. Hell, I want to marry her one day and have some kids.” Sam turned and looked at his brother in surprise. “Damn Dean. That’s huge man. I’m happy for you, truly.”

Dean nodded and thanked his brother. You came bounding into the kitchen and smiled at Dean and Sam. “Good morning, Sammy.” You winked. Dean chuckled, “I know about Eileen, Y/N. He spilled all his secrets this morning.” You laughed and looked at Sam “You told him everything?” Sam shot you a look and you kept quiet.

“So what smells so good in here?” You walked over to the stove where Dean was cooking. “Bacon, of course.” You laughed. You grabbed some coffee and sat down at the table waiting for Dean to finish cooking. The three of you talked about looking to see if there were any jobs popping up, and you mentioned to Sam he should ask Eileen to come along. Dean laughed as Sam’s face turned red.

When breakfast was done you started cleaning up the kitchen while the boys went to look for a job. You were just about finished washing dishes when Dean’s strong arms wrapped around your waist. He pulled you into him and started kissing your neck. “Dean, I need to finish cleaning.” You giggled. “It can wait. I want you.” He growled slowly in your ear. A chill went down your spine.

Dean spun you around to face him and his lips captured yours in a heated kiss. You were pushed between him and the sink, with nowhere to go. Not that you’d want to leave his embrace.

You moaned as he kissed down your neck and sucked on your pulse point. He took you by the hand and led you to your bedroom. As he pulled you in the room, he pushed you against the door closing it. Your hands went above your head and he held them there. Dean’s green eyes turned dark with lust. You bit your lip. It turned you on seeing him want you so much.

“Dean, I need you.” Dean let your hands down and pulled you to the bed. He laid you down carefully and hovered over you. His strong, calloused hands ran under your shirt, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Your breath hitched as his hands cupped your breasts and he tugged at your bra.

“Lean up baby, I want to take this off of you.” You leaned up and Dean took off your shirt and unhooked your bra. “Damn you’re so beautiful, and all mine.” He pulled his shirt off, exposing his perfectly toned chest. Your hands traced his body and his lips landed on your nipple while his hand cupped your other breast.

You sucked in air and moaned loudly. You could feel your arousal pool between your thighs and his erection pushing on you. Dean kissed his way down your body and stopped at the waistband of your pants. “Please, Dean, I need you baby.” You lifted your hips helping him remove your pants and panties.

You laid on the bed fully exposed. Dean stood and bit his lip. “Damn I can’t believe you’re mine.” You blushed, “all yours baby, now come on.” “Yes ma’am.” Dean smiled and removed his pants, his hardened length springing free. You laid back on the pillows and leaned up on your elbows watching as Dean stalked up the bed towards you.

He climbed between your legs, using his to move them apart. He looked down and saw your core, soaking wet and ready for him. “You’re soaked, sweetheart.” “Mmhmm” you replied as his fingers brushed over your entrance.

He slowly stuck his thick finger in and you moaned. Moving your hips into his hand as his thumb reached up and rubbed circles on your engorged clit. “Oh, Dean. Right there baby. Don’t stop.” You bucked into him as he added another finger. “Oh fuck, you’re so tight, sweetheart, and soaking wet.” Dean smirked as he felt your body responding to his touch.

He moved his fingers and thumb as you moved your body into his hand. He could feel you tightening around him, “mmmm, you’re close.” Your head fell back “Dean…I’m…gonna…cum.” Your breath hitched. He moved faster, helping you chase your release. “Yeah, cum for me princess.” With that you came undone.

Dean moved his fingers and thumb as you writhed under him. Your body became sensitive to his touch and he kept going. “Oh, FUCK, DEAN!” You came again. Dean smirked. “Good girl, I knew you could cum again.”

As Dean slowed and pulled his fingers out you moaned at the loss of fullness. Dean pumped his hard cock a few times before he lined himself up. He lined up at your entrance and slowly pushed in. You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him towards you.

He thrusted in and bottomed out. You both let out a loud moan. “Oh damn, you’re so tight, Y/N.” Your hands went to his broad shoulders and he set a steady pace. He would pull out almost all the way and slam back into you. Each thrust had you gasping for air and grabbing his shoulders.

“Oh, Dean. You feel incredible.” You moaned. Dean leaned down, kissing your lips, so do you baby. You were made for me.” Dean picked up the pace and you could tell he was chasing his release. He worked you faster and he felt his release coming. “I’m close, sweetheart.” “I want you to cum, Dean, please baby cum.” Dean thrusted a few more times and with a grunt he came, coating your walls with his seed.

When Dean was done, he slowly pulled out and went to clean himself off. Once in the bathroom he realized he didn’t use protection. Oh, Fuck! Why didn’t I grab a condom? Shit! Dammit. He returned to the bedroom with a washcloth and started to clean you up. You were still overly sensitive and moaned at his touch. “Sorry sweetheart, just trying to clean you up. Um, I came inside you.”

Your head shot up and your eyes were wide. “What?! Dean, we’ve always been so careful. Shit!” Dean hung his head, “I know. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.” You took a deep breath and gently touched his face, “Hey, it’s okay. It’s not just your responsibility. We will figure it out together.” You smiled and kissed his lips.

Dean laid beside you and pulled you close to him. You grabbed the sheet and covered the two of you and laid your head on his chest. You were listening to his heartbeat and watching his chest rise and fall with each breath. His heartbeat started to get faster as the two of you laid holding each other.

“Dean, are you okay?” “Yeah, I’m good.” He ran his fingers lightly over your arm and pulled you even closer. Your eyes were getting heavy. “Hey, sweetheart?” “Hmm, yeah, Dean?” “Will you marry me?” You sat up with a gasp. “What?!” Dean leaned up and smiled “Will you marry me?” “Really?” “Yes, really.” He leaned over and pulled a small velvet box from the side table. Opening it, you saw a small diamond ring. You looked at it and then at Dean. Tears filled your eyes. “Yes, yes, Dean. I’ll marry you!” You squealed with delight. Dean chuckled and placed the ring on your finger. “Oh my god, I love you so much, Dean!” “Me too, sweetheart.”

At that moment you didn’t care he couldn’t say the three little words. He showed you he loved you in so many other ways. Tonight, you were on cloud nine. You were going to be Mrs. Dean Winchester.

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