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rafesangelita · 3 months ago

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♡ breaking the one rule he was always supposed to follow, rafe found himself sitting in the shadows of the gentlemen’s club where bitchy!pogue!reader worked at. imagine your surprise when you find out the person that paid for a private dance with you is your brother’s best friend.. and business partner.

warnings: stripper!reader, brother’s best friend trope, mentions of you and barry arguing, sexual tension, flirty banter, making out, heavy petting

a/n: this is what bitchy!pogue!reader is wearing in this btw.. i watched anora and worked on this right after lol

wc: 1.1k

rafe knew it was wrong the second he got in his truck and drove down to ‘pink sugar’ to see if you were there. he knew it was wrong when he walked in and scanned the room for you, and he knew it was wrong when he took a corner seat furthest from the stage. after overhearing you and barry arguing about what you did for work, rafe couldn’t help himself from seeing what was making you come home with a duffle bag full of cash. his curiosity got the best of him, and when he saw you emerge from behind the curtains, pink lace lingerie hugging the curves of your body, the cutest pair of bunny ears adorning your head, with a little bunny tail on your g-string to match, all the guilt he once felt melted away into nothing.

you were sin with legs. rafe watched you smile at the men in the front, the group of them emptying their wallets when you hadn’t even did anything to make them shower you with cash. then again, rafe felt the urge himself to give you all of his money just because you were so pretty. rafe swallowed thickly when your song started and the lights went low, everyone’s attention zeroing in on you as you lowered yourself to the glossy floor of the stage. he watched you crawl to the center, arching your back as the rhinestones around your eyes sparkled under the club lighting. one of the men reached out, poking the little ball that was your bunny tail, slipping what looked like a hundred dollar bill in the string of your bottoms.

rafe hated the way the men in here were looking at you right now, his fists clenching at his sides as he imagined what kind of thoughts were currently running through their heads. “that’s it, baby!” a drunken holler was shouted, the rest of the club following suit and bursting into a fit of cheers when you managed to spin around the pole in the middle of the stage. rafe watched in awe, deciding he needed to get you to himself, and away from the hungry stares of the crowded club. making his way over to the bouncers that stood outside of a concealed hallway, he handed both of them a few crispy bills. “get the one on stage with me and i’ll double it.” without another word, both of the security guards moved aside, letting rafe through.

you finished the rest of your set, blowing kisses to the men who made it a mission of theirs to spoil you rotten tonight before you made your way to the locker rooms where you refreshed your hair and makeup. “y/n?” nancy, the owner’s right hand woman walked in, “i have a private dance for a younger gentleman in room five.. he requested you specifically.” you smiled at her through the reflection of the mirror. “okay, i’ll be right over.” you nodded, giving yourself one more glance before making your way down the dimly lit hallway. the first private dance of the night always made you a little anxious, but at least you knew you were guaranteed a hundred dollars that you didn’t have to share.

you took a breath, twisting the door knob open before going in, shutting the door closed right after. “i must be special if you chose me..” you placed a hand on the man’s shoulder, walking around him before standing between his legs. looking down, you felt your heart drop to your stomach when he looked up, the face all too familiar to you. “yeah, you are.” you gasped, retreating your hand from him as if he burned you. “what the fuck do you think you’re doing, rafe?!” you nearly lost your footing when you stepped back, suddenly feeling exposed as his eyes trailed down your body. “what? i’m just a paying customer.” he shrugged, tossing back the drink in his hand.

“oh, yeah? tell that to barry. he’ll kill you if he finds out you were here.” you scoffed, your eyes meeting his. rafe stared at you for a moment, motioning for you to get closer to him. you swallowed thickly, the small disco ball in the room illuminating his features. “i’m not gonna do anything to you, i just wanted you away from everyone out there.” he spoke lowly. you took a step, accepting the hand he held out for you before he guided you onto his lap. you wrapped an arm around his shoulders like it was second nature, his large palm running up and down your thigh. “sooo.. you think you’re doing me a favor by pulling me back here so no one else can watch me dance?” your face was just mere inches away from rafe’s.

“i’m losing out on a lot of money, ‘country club..” you whispered, the slow music playing softly in the background. “how much do you want. throw me whatever number you’d like.” you smiled, your fingers slipping underneath the hem of his polo. “two thousand,” you spoke, “with interest.” rafe laughed, nodding his head as he trailed his hand from your thigh to your hip, adjusting the strap of your g-string against your skin. “with interest, huh?” he smirked, eyes falling down to your lips, “..i’d happily give that to you.” you leaned in first, just wanting to feel his lips on yours. rafe stilled for a second, a groan rumbling from his chest when he pulled you closer by your neck, returning your kiss tenfold.

“is barry home?” he was breathless when he pulled away, his hands roaming your body as if he wanted to take you right then and there. at the mention of your brother, reality seemed to grip its claws into you when you realized what you were doing right now. rafe saw the look of confliction pass over your face, his fingers cupping your chin to avert your attention back onto him. “hey..” he whispered, “i won’t tell if you don’t.” his words echoed in your head, his cologne and his proximity overtaking your senses. as if you two were meeting on the same page, rafe watched as your eyes grew dark, a smile gracing your lips. “i don’t kiss and tell, rafe.” as if a flip switched, you two began ravaging each other once more.

time slowed when you two moaned into each other’s mouths, grappling onto one another as if the two of you would disappear if you let go. “barry’s gone for the night.” you managed to speak between kisses, rafe nodding as he cupped you through your bra. just as he was going to tell you to leave with him, the bouncer outside the door yelled that rafe’s thirty minutes were up. “what the fuck, already?” he glanced down at his watch. you sighed, letting rafe pick you up before he kissed you one more time. “get your shit and let’s go, i’ll be waiting at the front door.” he squeezed the globes of your ass, making you gasp as he walked out. and just like that, rafe never let you step foot in that club again.

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4unnyr0se · 7 months ago

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❥ moth to a flame | toru oikawa

warnings: timeskip! argentina oikawa, fem! reader, ushijimas ex! reader, alcohol consumption, recording, fingering, making out, HEAVY flirtiny/dirty talk, hickeys, rough sex, multiple orgasms, ushijima hate, exhibitionism, degradation, oikawa is a bitch ass motherfucker

MDNI | 18+ content

word count -> 5.1k

a/n: based off of this post right here, i hope i did it justice. also sorry to all the ushijima girlies out there

❥ song: moth to a flame - the weekend

Oikawa really fucking hated Ushjima. He hated how good he was. He hated how he could easily get his ass handed to him on a silver fucking platter. Not that he would ever admit that, of course. The Great King had too much pride ever actually to acknowledge that someone was better than him at volleyball. He knew that the ace was secretly talking behind his back, telling everybody that it was such a shame that Oikawa never went to Shirtatorizawa. Fucking dick, what the hell did he know? He had a dumb face. Ushijima was only useful for hitting balls into the opposing team's court. It’s no wonder he got drafted onto the Alders, no universities would accept him. Now, did Oikawa actually have any proof that Ushijima was dumb? Well, not exactly. But he didn’t need proof, Oikawa knew that already. He fucking hated Wakatoshi Ushijima and anyone that associated with him, including the ace’s pretty little girlfriend.

You were too pretty to be Ushijima’s girlfriend, way too pretty. There was no way someone like you would ever willingly be seen with him, right? He was probably blackmailing you into going out with him and posing for Volleyball Monthly; that’s how Oikawa found out about your little relationship. “Shiratorizawa’s Power Couple” the magazine title proudly boasted, using a photo of you standing a little too close to Ushijima for Oikawa’s liking. The only reason you were even featured was because you were the captain of Shiratorizawa’s cheer squad. Probably the only fucking good thing to come out of that school was you. You were wasted on Ushijima, no matter how well he could treat you. Oikawa was furious; Ushijima had a cute girlfriend, but he didn’t. It didn’t make any sense, right? Oikawa could have any girl he wanted, yet he chose you, someone he couldn’t have. What a mind-fuck that was.

Ushijima kept dating you after high school, much to Oikawa’s annoyance. Rumors were circulating that you would marry and give birth to the next great generation of volleyball, but Oikawa stopped caring at that point. He started playing for Argentina and decided (begrudgingly) that it was for the best that he stopped obsessing over that one Shiratorizawa cheerleader. That perfect, pretty, popular, and so fucking sexy cheerleader. Oikawa was content with his new life in Argentina, especially knowing he would never have to see you or Ushijima again. Boy, was he wrong.

The beach was sunny that day, and it was full of people doing whatever they wanted: making out, poorly playing volleyball, making sandcastles, whatever they wanted. Oikawa considered joining in on an amateur volleyball match, but he shrugged it off. They would probably recognize him, and while he enjoyed his fame, he preferred his female fans to his male ones. He instead opted to do what he did best: lie there and look pretty. His muscles rippled in the bronzing sunlight as he observed how the waves of the ocean danced, how the children laughed, and how the seagulls terrorized innocent picnic-havers. It was the best thing ever…until he got bored and wanted a drink. Something light, something with lime and coconut. He didn’t care what as long as it had those two things.

The bar was unusually empty, which was great. His fame got him a lot of special treatment, but cutting the line at the beach bar was certainly different from them. He gave the bartender his order and gave him the pesos, turning his back to the employee as his drink got mixed. Oikawa zoned out for the better part of it, not thinking of much until he was snapped out of his thoughts by a feminine voice.

“Virgin margarita, please,” you spoke so sweetly like honey was falling from your lips. Oikawa snapped his head in your direction, and his eyes nearly fell out of their sockets. You, Wakatoshi Ushijima’s girlfriend, were standing a few feet away from him, in the cutest little black bikini he had ever seen. He choked on his saliva, pretending to brush it off as a cough. Fuck, did you notice him? There was no way you didn’t. Whatever, there’s no turning back now. Oikawa plastered his signature smirk onto his handsome features, staring at you through his designer sunglasses.

“Well, if it isn’t Ushijima’s illustrious girlfriend. What brings you to Argentina? Let me guess, he sent you to sign me to the Alders?” his voice was smug, annoyingly smug.

You groaned and took off your sunglasses, nestling them atop your head. “Okay, you’re so wrong on so many levels,” you placed your hands on your hips, raising an eyebrow. “First of all, I’m not his girlfriend anymore. I broke up with Wakatoshi after he got drafted to the Alders, which probably answers your second question.” the ghost of a smirk dusted your lips.

“Oh,” Oikawa was momentarily silenced. “But you’re still on a first-name basis?”

“And is that any of your business?”

“Wow, since when was Shiratorizawa’s princess so fucking bitchy? I thought you were Snow White or something,” he scoffed, stepping towards you with his arms crossed.

“And you’re just as pretentious as people say you are,” you snickered. “For your information, Oikawa, I can act however I want. I broke up with his sorry ass, and I’m not telling you why. God, I can’t believe we’re at the same beach.”

Shit, he liked how you were talking to him. No one had put him down like that long ago, not since Iwaizumi. It was nice…did he like it when girls were mean to him instead of worshipping the ground he walked on?

“Hey, don’t get pissy with me, princess. It’s not my fault you just happen to go to the beach near where I live,” Oikawa scoffed. “What are you even doing in Argentina anyway? What, did university not work out for you back in Miyagi.”

You rolled your eyes. “For your information, asshole, I got into every university I applied to. I just…” you signed, rubbing your temple. “I just needed some time away from that place. Everything reminds me of Wakatoshi. It was just better for me to get away for a while.”

The bartender coughed awkwardly, holding your drinks. You both took them as the employee turned back around, visibly uncomfortable. Oikawa took a sip of the drink, nodding in approval. “So, I take it finding me on this beach wasn’t the most relaxing thing?”

“I thought you were going to be nice to me, but I guess I was wrong since you thought I was still with Wakatoshi,” you sipped your drink, the cool liquid drooling down your chin and onto your breasts. “But…I guess I can forgive you. After all, neither of us went to nationals since Karasuno got number nine and ten, right?”

Oikawa chuckled. “Yeah, you’re right. Fucking Tobio.”

“You know he’s on the Alders as well, right?”

“What? Oh, fucking of course he is,” Oikawa scoffed, placing his drink down at the bar. He looked at your form again, drinking in each curve that your bikini did such a poor job of hiding. Did you wear that thing on purpose to find someone here to fuck? Maybe Ushijima never fucked you right. Maybe he never made you cum. Maybe that’s why you dumped his sorry ass because he was a terrible lover. Oh, wouldn’t that just be a fucking treat?

“So,” Oikawa stared at the ground. “Do you wanna head back to my apartment? It’s within walking distance. Plus, I have drinks that aren’t stupidly overpriced,” he shot the bartender a dirty look. “No offense.”

You thought for a moment, your perfectly manicured finger tapping on your bottom lip. “Sure, that could be fun. Besides,” you leaned forward, exposing your cleavage to the setter. “If Wakatoshi heard about that, he would be so fucking pissed. So why not, hm?”

Holy shit. You were perfect. “Wow,” Oikawa was speechless, which was a rare fucking treat. “And here I thought you were all sweet and innocent,” he casually snaked his arm around your waist, shamelessly feeling your supple skin. “I guess I was wrong.”

“You’re lucky we hate the same person, or else I would have broken your arm off by now,” you snicker, allowing his hand to feel up and down your waist. “Now, where’s your apartment? Let me guess,” you pointed to an expensive-looking building. “Penthouse suite on the top floor right over there?”

“How the hell did you know that?” he raised an eyebrow in suspicion.

You scoffed, walking in tune with Oikawa. “I mean, it’s painfully obvious. That’s the only apartment complex within comfortable walking distance, and knowing your ego, you probably chose the apartment on the top floor because you think you’re entitled to it, somehow,” you smirked, staring into his milky brown eyes. “Well? How right am I?’

Oikawa frowned, pouting like a baby. “...pretty right…” he mumbled.

“What? I didn’t catch that?” you pretended to cup your ear.

“I said you’re right. Jeez, since when were you this cocky?” he grumbled, pulling you closer to his muscular form. He was ripped, more ripped than he was in the sports magazines from high school. His chest was chiseled, and his shoulders were broad as if he had been sculpted by the gods themselves. You would never admit this to him (not sober, at least), but Oikawa was hot as fuck, even though he was a major brat.

“I’ve always been this cocky, just not in public,” you looked up at the door of the penthouse apartment complex, the doorknobs brandishing an expensive golden sheen. “Wow, these sure are different than the Miyagi apartments,” you mumbled, rubbing on your arm. Oddly enough, you felt out of place, like you didn’t fit the right tax bracket to be allowed here.

“Well, cutie, I am a professional athlete. I make more than the entire staff does combined,” he bragged, waving to the desk attendant, who had the most annoyed look on her face. Maybe she knew what a dick Oikawa was as well.

You bit down on your bottom lip, tapping your sandalled shoe against the cool tiling of the lobby. Did he just call you a cutie? You shouldn’t take it personally. He probably did that with every other girl he found attractive. Wait, does that mean he found you attractive? Oh god, did you actually like being flirted with by Toru Oikawa? You slapped your hands over your cheeks, attempting to hide the ever-blooming red blush.

“Are you okay? You look red,” he thought for a second, his lips twisting into a smirk. “Is Shiratorizawa’s Princess blushing?” he leaned forward, smirking as the elevator doors closed. His large and calloused hands pressed against either side of your head, trapping you between the wall and his shirtless frame.

“Shut up!” you slapped him across his cheek, leaving a stinging imprint on his flawless skin. He gasped, massaging his cheek. “You’re a pervert, you know that?”

“I haven’t even said anything perverted yet! No one hits me, no one!” he wined, uncaging you from the elevator wall. “You’re feisty,” he mumbled under his breath, something you couldn’t hear.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, the elevator door dinged. You both left the elevator and walked to his apartment in silence, your hands massaging your arms as the cold air of the upper floor set in. Rich people have excellent air conditioning.

“This is it,” Oikawa jiggled his key into the lock, pulling open the mahogany door. “Ladies first,” he winked, making you scoff as you entered the vast apartment.

“Holy-” your words died on your lips as you took in Oikawa’s living space. How perfect and elegant it was. It was massive, boasting a designer kitchen with beautiful granite countertops and three ovens. Who the hell needs three ovens? “This place is huge! Damn, I forgot how much they pay professional athletes!”

Oikawa chuckled at your childlike marveling, or perhaps it was envy? Either way, he could get used to you gawking over his wealth. “I know, I know. I’m fucking fantastic,” he strode over to the bar cart, mixing some peach juice and vodka. “I know this isn’t the most manly drink, but beer is so gross. Don’t you agree?” he handed you a glass, not even trying to hide the fact that he was staring at your tits.

“Oh, totally. Beer is gross,” you took a sip of the drink, smiling at the peach juice hit your tongue. “Oh damn, this is good. Where did you get this?”

“I’m not telling. You could buy out my entire supply!” Oikawa laughed, taking another sip of his beverage. “So,” he leaned against his kitchen counter, staring into your eyes with his half-lidded ones. “What will it take for me to learn why you dumped Ushijima, hm?” his voice was a purr, like a siren trying to lure you into the sea.

You rolled your eyes and sat down on the couch, admiring the tasteful throw pillows he had. “Well, if it gets you to shut up, I’ll tell you,” you patted the seat right next to your own. “You’re lucky I have vodka in me, or else I’d be really bitchy right about now.”

“Who’s saying you aren’t being bitchy?”

You shot him a glare. “Do you wanna know my breakup story or not?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he rolled his eyes and sat next to you, purposefully spreading his muscular thighs. Fuck, he was sexy as hell. “Well? Let’s hear the story, cutie.”

“Okay,” you took a deep breath, locking your eyes on your pedicured feet. “We started dating because one of his teammates said we would look good together. Tendou, I think his name was. He asked me out, but it wasn’t very romantic. He was stoic, unfeeling. I guess he’s always been like that,” you paused, licking your bottom lip. “He was a good boyfriend for the most part, I guess. He was kind, and he supported me in anything I did. It’s just…volleyball was his top priority, not me. And don’t get me wrong, I loved cheerleading. Wakatoshi prioritized sports over his relationship, so I dumped him once he was signed to the Alders.” you looked up at Oikawa, a soft smile gracing your lips. “I’m happy I dumped his sorry ass.”

“Wow,” Oikawa mumbled, setting his drink on the coffee table. “I’m sorry he treated you like that. I always knew he was a piece of shit, and now I have the proof,” he smacked his lips together, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “C’mere, I gotta ask you something else.”

“Do we have to be this close for you to ask me a question?” you raised an eyebrow, secretly enjoying the intimacy.

“Yes,” Oikawa immediately responded. “Answer me this,” his voice dropped to a deep octave, goosebumps covering your arms. “Did he ever make you cum, or did you have to fake it every time?”

Your breath hitched in your throat, a blush dusting your cheeks. “Well, technically, no, he didn’t make me cum,” you whispered, knowing damn well that Oikawa had a shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

“I fucking knew it,” he pulled you impossibly closer, pulling your lip down with his thumb. “Poor little girl, hm? You’re big, strong boyfriend never gave you an orgasm. Did he even know where the clit is?”

You shook your head. “No, I had to show it to him, and he still has never found it.”

“Oh, that’s pathetic. And adorable. To think,” his lips trailed upwards to the cartilage of your ear, nibbling on it. “That a pretty thing like yourself had a boyfriend that wouldn’t give her what she wanted…that’s just tragic, don’t you think so?”

You looked at him, your eyes ablaze. “I guess so. What, did you wanna do something about that?” your hands slid up and down his thigh, dangerously close to his hardening cock.

“I think I will,” without any warning, he scooped you up and threw you over his shoulder, slapping you on the ass. You squeaked and were thrown onto his bed, the crisp cotton sheets welcoming your burning skin. Oikawa crawled on top of you, pinning your wrists above your head. “I have an idea, something that will piss Ushijima off. That’s what we both want, isn’t it?” he planted a daring kiss on your neck, the aroma of your tropical perfume filling his nostrils. “I know you wanna see him angry, don’t you, cutie?”

Fuck, his words landed right at your core. You squeezed your legs shut, tilting your head to the side so he could plant more of his blazing kisses on your delicate skin. “Mhm, I wanna see him get so mad he does something he’ll regret,” you purr, gasping as Oikawa sank his canines into you. A soft moan fell from your lips, only encouraging him to leave more delicious bruises. He stopped his ministrations, licking his way up to your ear. “I wanna film me fucking your brains out,” his voice was a low rumble, practically dripping with want. “I wanna send him pictures of you covered in my fucking cum with your tits covered in hickeys. That’ll show him, right?” he shamelessly palmed your breast, wanting to tear that slutty bikini off your perfect body.

“Fuck, Oikawa,” you moaned, breaking free from his grasp. “If you’re gonna do that,” you sat on the bed. “We have to be equals in this, or he’ll think you’re fucking me without consent.”

“What? So, no bondage or anything?” he pouted. “Well, I guess that’s fair,” his milky eyes darted to one of his dresser drawers. “I…I have a professional camera in there, as well as a tripod. Don’t fucking ask why I have those, okay? If we’re gonna film a little something for your ex-boyfriend,” he playfully nipped at your ear. “We’re gonna do it right.”

“Sounds like a plan,” you chuckled, swatting his hands away as he fumbled with the string of your bikini top. “Nope, you have to undress me on camera. That’ll really piss him off.”

Oikawa smirked, setting up the tripod quickly. How many times did he use that thing? “You sure know him well, don’t you, cutie?” he hit the record button, crawling above you again. The camera was positioned to have the side-view of whatever you two decided to participate in. “Don’t worry, I’ll get the money shot with my phone,” he snickered, hovering his lips above yours. “Now, cutie, do you wanna make a movie with me?”

“Fuck yes,” and his lips were upon yours, ravaging them like he had drank a love potion. They moved in sync with your own, relishing in the mango-flavored chapstick you wore. He kissed you like he owned you from the second he saw you in that slutty bikini. The way his teeth clashed against yours was animalistic in his fight to be dominant, not even asking for entry before shoving his tongue inside your mouth. Your wet muscles danced, pulling moan after moan out of your lungs before he pulled away abruptly, cheeks flushed and chest heaving.

“Gotta fucking catch my breath,” he chuckled. “You kiss like a fucking whore.”

“I bite like one, too,” you smirked, rolling over to straddle Oikawa’s waist. He gasped in confusion before quickly being silenced, the sensation of you harshly sucking on his muscular neck making him whimper. You chuckled, grinding yourself onto his pelvis, your most intimate parts being covered by thin pieces of fabric.

“Fuck, cutie,” Oikawa’s hands squeezed your hips, rolling the fat between his taped fingers. He bucked his hips upwards, making you yelp. “Take off that fucking top now,” he growled, fisting the sheets beneath him impatiently.

You giggled and reached behind your back, undoing the bikini knot teasingly slow. Oikawa knew what you were doing. He’d seen it a million times by now. Usually, he wouldn’t mind. It was just another beach slut taking her time, trying to draw out their experience with the great Toru Oikawa. But this time was different. He didn’t want to wait. He wanted you creaming on his cock the way Ushijima never made you. Besides, there would be a second time. And a third, and a fourth.

His hand cracked against your ass. “Don’t fucking tease me, cutie,” his voice rasped, his hands hungrily grasping onto your tits. “Fucking take this off, or I’ll rip it off of you. Show me those tits, don’t get all shy on me now.”

You squeak, your clit pulsating at the contact. “Fine, whatever you want, baby,” you threw your bikini top across the room, letting your breasts be exposed to the cool air of his bedroom. Oikawa groaned, rolling over so he was on top once more. His mouth found your breast, sucking at the pillowy flesh while his hands rolled over your pert nipple, alternating between each breast. He sucked on your areloas, making sure not to be gentle. He only got more confident with each slutty moan he ripped from your lips, relishing in the incredibly high ones he received when he bit down on your nipple. Your chest was littered with tiny purple circles and covered in his saliva, the desire in your belly practically bubbling over. His cock was painfully hard, pressing against your inner thigh. You swore you could hear it throbbing, begging to fuck your cunt.

“Oikawa!” you whimpered, grabbing his ashy brown hair and forcefully pulling him away from your chest. “I-I think you marked me enough, right? C’mon,” your hand guided his into your bikini bottom, sighing as his thumb finally found your desperate clit. “I’m so wet down here for you, Oikawa. Don’t you wanna take care of me?”

Your voice was high-pitched like the girls in porn, and Oikawa fucking loved it. You were both putting on a show in shorts. A show to piss off a man that you both despised, but it was a show nonetheless. It's a sexy, depraved show.

“You moan like a fucking slut,” he pushed your bikini to the side, exposing your dripping pussy. Without a second thought, he shoved his middle and ring finger deep inside your heat, curling them slightly. You cried out, arching your back further into the mattress as his other hand still had a firm hold on your breast.

“Oh, you like that, cutie? You like getting finger-fucked by your ex-boyfriend's enemy?” he growled, fucking his fingers in and out of your weeping pussy at a relentless pace. “I wonder what they would say if they saw you like this, a slutty little mess under me. You’re such a whore for my fingers, aren’t you?” his thumb dragged over your clit, his fingers and his arm being so precise in their ministrations. Your pussy squeezed around his digits, feeling your first orgasm in such a long-time approach.

“P-please, Oikawa! Fucking make me cum!” you sobbed, your hands clenching onto the white sheets. You saw stars as your orgasm crashed over you, rolling your head to the side to stare directly into the camera. With your blown-out eyes and bruised lips, you looked fucking ethereal.

“Good fucking girl,” Oikawa popped his fingers in his mouth, tasting your slick. You tasted incredible, unlike anything he had ever tasted before. “Open up,” he ran his finger over your soaked core, gathering up more of your essence to forcefully shove inside your mouth. “Suck,” he commanded, and you did. Your tongue ran over his fingers while you made direct eye contact with him, making the setter impossibly hard. “Little slut.”

“M’not a slut,” you whined, spreading your legs further apart. You were contradicting yourself. You were on display for him as if his apartment was some kind of brothel. The look in his eyes when he saw your gorgeous body, your thighs still trembling in the aftershocks of your release. Fuck, it really looked like he ripped you straight out of a porno.

“Then how come you’re spread out like one for me, hm? That pussy’s dripping all over my bed, dirty girl.” he slid off his swimming trunks, his cock slapping against his rock-hard abs. He boasted a proud, sensitive pink tip that was leaking with precum. He pumped his cock a few times before aligning it with your entrance, slapping the head against your clit. “Now, are you gonna beg for me to fuck you better than that pathetic ex-boyfriend of yours ever could?” he looked directly into the camera, mesmerized by the flashing red light. “Better than Ushijima, I’m better than Ushijima.”

“T-Toru!” you whined, pulling him down by his shoulders into a passionate kiss. You stared into the camera as well, giving it a wink. Using Oikawa’s first name would surely make your ex furious. It just had to. “Fuck me! Fuck me better than Wakatoshi ever could!” you sobbed, wrapping your legs around his waist so he had no hope of escaping. Your eyes were wet with fake tears, begging him to ruin you.

“Shit,” he groaned, pushing the head of his cock past your entrance. “That’s what I like to fucking hear.” he slammed his lips down on yours once again, bullying the rest of his throbbing length deep inside your heat. “So fucking tight.” Oikawa hissed at the sight of your greedy pussy sucking him in, his teeth nipping at your lips.

“S’fucking big, Toru! Fuck!” you cried, your nails leaving angry red crescent marks on his back. Oikawa revealed in the pleasure, continuing to make out with you as he fucked you harder, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix occasionally.

“You’ve ever been fucked this hard before, hm?” he bit down on your shoulder, leaving an imprint of his teeth. “No one’s ever fucked this pussy as good before, huh? Fucking answer me, cutie,” his hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing softly.

You gasped, struggling to take his massive cock and breath at the same time. “No one’s, fuck, no one’s ever fucked me like this before, Toru!” you sobbed, sighing in relief as he let go of your neck.

“So fucking obedient. And you let her dump you, Usjijima? Fucking pathetic,” he rolled his hips against yours, hitting even deeper inside your pussy. His balls slapped against the cleft of your ass, the apartment echoing with lustful moans and squeals. He grabbed your jaw and pulled you in for another kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth as his cock ravaged your core.

“Toru, I’m gonna fucking cum!” you sob into his mouth, your nails now leaving furious red scratches down his back. He whined into your mouth, his hips never faltering as they continued their unrelenting and unforgiving speed. Sweat dripped from his brow and into your hair, moan after beautiful moan being ripped from your lips as he fucked you like he owned you, like you were his. It was more than just a revenge fuck, so much more.

“Fucking cum on my cock, cutie. Be a good fucking slut and make a mess on this cock,” he growled into your mouth, pulling on your hair to force your neck to the side. He planted open-mouth kisses as you were pushed over the edge, crying out his name as your release coated his pulsating shaft.

Fuck, he wasn’t going to last, not at the rate that your pussy was milking him. He eagerly reached for his phone on the mattress, and just as he felt his orgasm approach, he pulled out of your addictive cunt. The camera app was opened, and the record button was pressed, videoing Oikawa desperately fisting his cock before letting out a guttural, almost animalistic roar. His thick, white-hot ropes of cum painted your stomach and fucked out face, some even landing on your lips. Oikawa stopped recording and took several pictures, each with a different angle of your cum-covered curves.

“Gorgeous,” the setter muttered, tossing his phone back onto the now-ruined sheets. He got off the bed and grabbed the camera, winking at the lens as he hit the power button. The light stopped blinking, and Oikawa was satisfied. “Well, you just made your first porno. How do you feel about that, cutie?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “It’s more of a revenge porno than anything, but I liked it,” you averted your gaze. “You’re a good fuck.”

He placed a hand on his hip. “Well, obviously,” Oikawa rolled his eyes, grabbed a box of tissues, and handed them to you. “Clean yourself off. I’ll run you a bath in a minute.”

You needed clarification. “You’re doing aftercare?”

“Why the hell would I not?” he sounded offended.

“Because you seem like an inconsiderate piece of shit,” your words were so casual, yet so mean. Why did Oikawa crave more?

“I made you cum, didn’t I?” he snatched the box of tissues out of your hand. “Twice, I made you cum twice. That’s more than fucking Ushijima ever could.”

“Woah, don’t get your panties in a twist. It was just an assumption, damn.” you rolled your eyes, stepping off of the bed. “Now, I’m gonna need to borrow a shirt before I get the hell out of here. You kind of ruined my bikini top.”

Oikawa shook his head, placing the camera inside his drawer beside him. “You aren’t going anywhere, not until I’ve gotten as many orgasms as I want out of that slutty little pussy of yours.”

You chuckled darkly and pounced on him, straddling his waist once again. “Only if I get to be on top this time, okay?” you licked his neck. “I wanna see how the Great King reacts to Shiratorizawa’s Princess riding his cock.”

Oikawa grinned and pulled you down for another kiss, his cock already hard. You were in for a long fucking night.

Ushijima woke up to an onslaught of ringing sounds coming from his phone. Groaning, he turned to the side to see who had the balls to be emailing him at 2:56 in the morning.

His eyes widened as he saw two video attachments, as well as several image attachments, of Oikawa’s cock plunging in and out of his ex-girlfriend's pussy. Her cries and moans quickly filled up his bedroom as Oikawa’s mischievous brown eyes locked with Ushijima’s green ones from behind the screen. He sat up, scrolling through the rest of the attachments. Each image was enough to send him into a rage, but the last one was what got to him. Your head resting on Oikawa’s chest, various hickeys covering your tits and neck as you slept soundly. On the other hand, Oikawa was smirking as he held up the number five with his fingers. Ushijima’s hands cracked his phone, shattering the protective glass.

Toru Oikawa was a smug-ass motherfucker.

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru #oikawa #oikawa smut #haikyuu oikawa #haikyuu time skip #timeskip oikawa #toru oikawa smut #aoba johsai

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kameyyy · 1 month ago

Text

#recs

this didn’t fit anymore lmao😭

try again

part 0.11. HERE TO STAY

“on the other side of the wall, she’s listening to her client with a smile on her face. she’s a professional; she’s been trained to multitask and take notes while still listening and providing feedback to her clients. right now, she’s clicking off a tab back to the one filled with bullet points on things her client has said. she always knows when he arrives. she hears the left door open, which she knows because it squeaks more than the one on the right. he always uses the left door (she thinks it has something to do with the fact that more people touch the handle of the right door on their way in) and his paces are always steady down the creaky hallway. her last sign that he's here is the chair he sits in every time, the one right next to the door into her rooms. the legs are the slightest bit uneven and the back of the chair will lightly tap against the wall as its way of letting her know of her welcome guest. she already has her queue of songs up. she’s always hated her thin walls until he started coming in. a lot has changed in her life since he's come back, hasn't it?"

content warnings: the big finale which isn't that dramatic! i'm sorry for my bad writing! y/n dad reveal! breaking news: her dad is an asshole! tad bit of violence, one mention of blood and also just cursing and abusive fathers </3

he insists on paying and she doesn’t argue with him about it for long; she’ll have countless more opportunities to steal the check from him, she hopes.

she feels better when she's finally eaten after a day of nervous nausea and time spent anxiously bouncing her knee. on top of that, she’d been with him for the majority of the day, distracting her from what had happened in the morning. he even listened to her issues, and she’s finally starting to believe the promise that he’s here to stay.

they’ve just stepped off the train, and her apartment building is only a few minutes away. he walks alongside her the entire time, their arms brushing each other ever so often. whether it’s on purpose or not, neither of them will fess up.

he’s only distracted from his time spent mindlessly reaching his arm out just the slightest bit more to hit hers ever so often when he feels a buzz in his pocket. he slips out his phone quickly to check its screen:

akaashi’s a moment too late, because they’ve just made it up the stairs to her floor.

she’s already seen him, and he’s already seen her.

she wants to puke.

he’s there, arguing with iwaizumi outside their door. his sunken eyes and gaunt face make her stomach twist with guilt, but a brush from omi’s knuckles reminds her where she is again. it’s not her job to take care of him. it never was, and it never will be.

"you," the man is pointing a finger towards her, stumbling forward and she immediately shrinks back like a shriveling flower, losing her confidence. omi's already standing in front of her without even thinking about it, putting a barrier between the two.

the old man keeps talking as if he can see right through him, though “you’re a disrespectful worthless piece of shit, you know that? can’t ever in your life put even a single person about yourself. here you are living with a bunch of boys. what are you, a whore? do you suck them off so they’ll keep the bad guys away? they’re doing a shit job at it. i’m standing here after, all, aren’t i?”

“it’s not like that,” her voice is quiet and weak, and she’s not even sure it makes it to the man’s ears.

“you can’t think about anyone else. you're too selfish. you won’t even answer your own father’s calls much less say anything to him at all–”

“i told you to back off!” her voice comes out loud this time, louder than she means for it to, “i’ve told you to back off so many times but you just don’t listen,” she steps out from behind omi, standing next to him instead while the man in front of them stops at the sound of her voice, “these are my roommates and my closest friends. i'm living with them because they genuinely care about me and aren't using me for any purpose, something you can't even dream about. the only reason you’re still standing here is that they have enough self-control and respect for me that they won't beat up the man i regrettably call my father.”

omi’s gaze slides over to hers, trying to see if she’ll meet his eyes. he’s simultaneously trying to communicate how proud of her he is and let her know that he'll support her no matter what happens.

“take that back,” her father spits, starting to curl his fingers into a fist. she stays silent, and his face begins to flush an angry red. “you’re only proving my point. you’re just an ungreatful little girl who thinks she no longer has to care about anyone else because she's older. i took care of you your whole life and i will not have you ignoring me for the rest of my fucking life!” the smell of beer invades her senses as he steps closer.

“you did jackshit in my life! you never helped me with anything I asked you to. never bought me anything i needed, you've never cared about me. i’ve grown up and moved out. i can do whatever i damn please and i told you to leave me alone. maybe if you respected me i wouldn't ignore you, but that's impossible for you,” she retorts, standing her ground.

“don’t you fucking talk to me like that–” he nears her, only a few steps between them and she starts to feel the panic in her chest, “your stubbornness is the reason your mother left–”

“my stubbornness?” she can’t help but fight back. that’s what separates her from her past self. her younger self ran away, left home as soon as she could to live on her own, but now she’s grown into who she is today, and she won’t let him ruin that. “you treated your wife like shit and refused to change no matter how many times she screamed and argued with you right in front of me about how horrible you were. you've never fixed anything because you’re so stuck up and think you’re so high and mighty that she decided to pack up her bags and leave–”

“then why did she leave you behind too?”

it’s like her heart stops beating for a second. her blood runs cold before her vision is a blur and the face of the man is crushed right in front of her, sending him to the ground groaning. his hand is covering his nose, preventing her from seeing how badly damaged it is, but she can’t find it in her to care.

“don’t blame her for your faults. grow up and take responsibility for your shit. she deserved better than either of you,” omi is talking down on the man now, and she looks up from her father’s body to the fist of the boy beside her, bruised and a little red.

he’s been by her side since day one, and maybe he disappeared for a section of it, but now he’s back. they're back together, and she stands proudly beside him, “she left me too, but i can’t be mad at her for being sick of you. or us. whatever it is, you’re both selfish and her absence nor yours is something i’m mourning over. i’m happy to have left you too and for the last time, i never want to see you again”

iwaizumi has joined them, standing above the man, no trace of sympathy in his eyes despite the blood that's streaking down her father's face. he tries to get up, only for iwaizumi to keep him down on the ground with a foot on his shoulder, “you heard her. don’t ever show your fucking face around here again. i’ll kill you the moment i lay eyes on you.” iwaizumi’s olive eyes move from the ground to meet hers, slightly softening when he sees her, “are you done with him? i’ll make sure he gets out of here and stays away for good.”

omi’s words from the diner rush back to her head, and she doesn’t feel so bad for relying on her friend. she believes he's willing to help her, and she won’t let her father’s words get to her head. she’s cared for others, unlike him, and developed relationships that she’s earned by giving out her own love. “yeah, i’m done,” her voice is quiet again as she keeps looking at her friend, searching his eyes for any sort of annoyance. but she can’t find any, and she smiles, walking towards him, wrapping her arms around him. “thank you, iwaizumi.”

he has an arm around her shoulders, his foot still resting on her father. “always,” he replies simply before she leaves him embrace, gesturing for omi to follow her. “i’m going to take care of his fist, now.”

iwaizumi only nods, turning his attention back to the man on the ground omi following his gaze as he passes by. iwaizumi will do more than a good enough job at keeping his word, he knows that, but he feels like he should have some part in taking care of the man whose plagued the girl in front of him for her entire life.

but she hasn’t asked him to take care of the man in front of her, and he knows its not his place. she knows she does not resent the man to the point that she wishes harm upon him, she simply wishes that he would leave her alone. and iwaizumi will make sure that wish is honored, and omi should be satisfied with the hit he landed on the man’s nose.

before her hand can even reach the knob of the door, it swings open and she’s pulled inside by the arms of a black-haired man who he recognizes to be akaashi. kita is standing beside him, a hand on [y/n]’s shoulder as they both check on her for any injuries or harm.

he hasn’t seen kita since his days in high school when he was the captain of inarizaki; atsumu told him he had moved out to the countryside but he must have come back after some time. he feels like a weight is lifted off his chest at the sight of her in the arms of his roomates, and he knows that she is cared for. that she has found her people, just like he told her earlier that night, and he hopes that she’s starting to accept his words as the truth.

he’s happy just watching her from afar, but she breaks apart from akaashi’s hug to gesture him in, and kita shuts the door behind him. “omi, this way,” she says with a smile on her face, beckoning him with a hand.

it’s the first time she’s called him by that old name since high school, and he thinks he’s falling even harder for her if that’s possible. she makes him sit on a stool in the kitchen while she searches her cabinets and a nearby closet for medical supplies. she’s begun to apply an ointment to his hand when he opens his mouth, “i can’t believe you think your roomates would ever leave you. look at how they all came to make sure you were okay. mine are one fight away from starting to vote people to kick out of the apartment nearly every week.”

she laughs at his comment, unwrapping a roll of bandages, “i’m sure no one would ever vote for you if that happened, but i guess you’re right, they’re pretty good, aren’t they?”

he nods, watching her face while she’s focused on his hand, “are you doing okay?”

she hums back in response, “yeah. the thing about my mom leaving me behind too kind of stung, but i don’t think life would’ve been any better with her, so it shouldn’t really hurt that bad. i’ll be okay. what you said at the diner really helped, you know. i feel like I can trust myself to say what i'm thinking rather than being scared i'm wrong or selfish. i can trust that it's not egotistical to believe my roomates don’t actually hate me. and that you don’t hate me. so i feel like i’ve finally escaped the weight of my dad’s words always crushing me and playing down anything i do.”

he reaches a hand up with his uninjured hand to wipe away tears from her face she didn't even realize were falling. and then he keeps his hand there, caressing the side of her face. “i don’t hate you, i never have. this entire time…how i feel about you is quite the opposite,” the words are slightly too intimate for him and as soon as they escape his mouth, it becomes hard to swallow and his face feels a little hot, but he doesn’t remove the hand from her cheek. he opts to say something more neutral next, “you did well, talking back down to him. i think you could’ve taken him down yourself.”

she chuckles at that, tying a knot to finish his bandage, “that’s what you think, but i’m sure i’d break my thumb or something. and if i have a hot man to defend me? i’m not lifting a finger.”

“you think i’m hot?” he says with a smile.

her cheeks grow warm under his hand, but she can’t look or move away from him, “i’m pretty sure thousands of people think so. it’s like a fact; newspapers can make money off of just having your face on the front page even if they barely mention you or don’t focus on sports at all.”

“well none of that matters,” he’s smiling softly now, and she’s still looking into his dark-colored eyes, hands holding his wrapped hand, “it just matters what you think.”

“what i think?” she repeats. and maybe it’s the adrenaline from the encounter they just had, or his boldness rubbing off on her in this current moment, but her next words come out clear and confident, “i think i love you, and i have for years. even when you left, i never stopped loving you.”

“i’m gonna make up for those years, you know,” he whispers back, pulling her by the sides to stand between his legs, bringing her closer. “i know i love you. i’d be a fool not to. and i loved you back then in high school too, even if i didn’t know it. i swear, losing you made me realize how much i took you for granted and everything became clear. letting you disappear was the worst mistake i ever made. i’ll make up for that lost time. make it up to you to the the point that you’re sick of me and you forget we were ever even separated for a time in our lives.”

“oh? and how are you gonna do that?” there’s a breathless feeling growing inside of her chest, where her heart beating fast with his confession and the way she's allowing him to pull her face close to this.

“starting with this,” his breath is hot against her lips before he closes the gap between them, and she’s kissing him back. she doesn't mourn or wish for the past, or for anything to change. he's come back and that's all that matters. she's happy with the word again. she likes it better than a phrase like "we fell in love at first sight." instead, she can say, "we met again. we fell in love again.

"we tried again."

it sounds like a story that reminds people endings aren't set in stone. she likes it.

“by the way, have you been playing songs for me in your lounge room when i’m waiting for you?”

“oh, you noticed?”

"the more you love your friends the more their features start to blur until all you remember is a pair of warm, welcoming eyes and laughter that feels like home."

prev. | m.list

extras <3

this is the end! thank you for reading try again <3

that last little quote is something i should've included like two chapters ago but it got lost in my gallery so here it is now <3

y/n's a good therapist i swear!!! she takes like one second to hit a play on a spotify playlist she's not playing games on her computer for entire sessions 😭

this is all i have tbh! i hope you enjoyed a little bit of this story <3 thank you so so much for being along on this ride w me!!

taglist: @eggyrocks @wyrcan @guitarstringed-scars @strawberryuri @violetesensou @kakeru-eem @glmge @heytheredemonsss @mollyrolls @bemebiu @daszy @snail-squasher @0moonii @thiisisntlovely @todorokiskitten @rory-cakes @iiwaijime @iatethemochi @yuminako @savemebrazilhinata @kismyscars @bokutoko @nobodybutnnoorr @wolffmaiden @daisy-room @softpia @lees-chaotic-brain @v3nusplanetofluv @crispchocolates @phoenix-eclipses @hhoneyhan @encrypta @rockleeisbaeeee @cr4yolaas @zombriesworld @localgaytrainwreck @moucheslove @hibernatinghamster @notverymarley @certaindreampost @akaakeis @ciderscape @lucien-luna @strawbrinkofdeath @wave2mia @samuel1004 @01trickster10 @dazqa @cosmiicdust @chemiru

#i hope 30 tags will be enough for this ness because !!! oh my god !!! this chapter !!! this ending !!! is so incredibly beautiful I love it!#like wdym this is MID ????? NO !!!! I felt so many emotions when I read this you wouldn’t even know #starting off strong with #“what are you a whore? do you suck them off [...]?” UHM NESS ??? MY JAW DROPPED ???? LIKE IT D R O P P E D #and then yn's part with “[...] but you just dont listen” I could practically feel and hear her pain #like I think I heard her voice??#“[...] I regrettably call my father” UHM HELLO ??? OMG ??? NESS ??? THAT HIT ME SO HARD I FELT LIKE YN'S DAD WHEN OMI PUNCHED HIM ???????#“your stubborness is the reason your mother left” WHEN I TELL YOU I GASPED !!!!!!! NESS OH MY GOD !!!#I think I never hated a fictional person this much in my entire life holy shit THE AUDACITY ????#omi should've went for a second punch !!!! that man deserves it so bad omg.. and also omi was lowkey hot so like tehee #“I feel like I can trust myself to say what I'm thinking rather than being scared I'm wrong or selfish.” ness dear I think you're #a little to personal now.. like you're hitting a little too close to home and it's crazy how you did this for the second time already #“I can trust that it's not egoistical to believe my roomates don’t actually hate me.” ness honey do you by chance read my diary or sum ???#OH ALSO OMG “you think I'm hot?” OMI YES YES YES JUST THIS QUESTION MADE YOU 1000 TIMES HOTTER !!!!!!!!#“I'm gonna make up for those years you know” ness I wrote those quotes down on a goodnotes page and I literally drew butterflies next to #this quote okay like I'm not joking this gave me lowkey butterflies and made me physically draw them on my ipad #“I *know* I love you” omi can I like kiss you rn and make you my wife ?? and you too ness ?? please ??#“we tried again” NESS I'M SOBBING !!!! CRYING TEARS AND MY HEART IS HEALING BUT ALSO ACHING AT THE SAME TIME !!!#“endings aren't set in stone” BUT THIS ONE IS 😔#jk what I actually wanted to say is that you're lowkey all philosophical rn and it's so gorgeous and touching #like I disassociated (/pos) for a few minutes when I read this because it's just so true and this fic just hit so close to home #it's a little scary tbh #I count “try again” definetly as one of my favorite fics out there simply because it's just so gorgeous and the psychological/philosophical #narrative is just so different from other fics and also so beautiful and kt made me reflect/think about the things in my life more than #before I discovered this fic here in particular. the last few chapters just hit especially so close to home no matter if omi's side or yn's #i just felt a little more seen and heard and a little lighter that there are other people who struggle with the same things as I do and that #i'm not all alone which is something I thought before. I really hold this fic close to my heart and I especially love the ending you chose #and I don’t think its mid or nothing special.. it is very special and incredibly good to me. i'm excited to read more of your works ness #even if it's not as “deep”/“heavy” likr this one since try again has this narrative especially because yn is a therapist. i really really #love this fic <3 i love try again with my whole heart and I'm so glad that I have discovered it alongside you <3

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glamourscat · 1 month ago

Note

I read ur tim headcanons and omg yessss pls do a one shot for tim trying to flirt and being adorably awkward!! 🙏🙏🙏

it came out more romantic than i intended to. i hope you still enjoy this loverboy Tim nonetheless! :)

while i was writing i listened to this playlist, also this is not proofread :(

Every Breath You Take | Tim Drake x reader

Tim was in love, but that would be an understatement. He was utterly and foolishly in love with you. And right now he was sure he was doing a poor job in hiding his feelings. You were in his new apartment. For someone who is a nepobaby times two, the apartment wasn’t anything “special”. If anything, it was modest at best. Not that there's anything wrong with modest.

In fact, it felt right. It was smaller than the estate he grew up in or Bruce’s manor, but it just fit, you know? He had barely unpacked, the boxes all around the place scattered and yet it felt like home. Because of you. You, who decided to stay over for the past two days sleeping over on the shitty couch just to keep him company. Because Tim could have faked it all he wanted, but he was not one for silence nor loneliness. Having you so close felt right. It felt like home.

And right now, he truly was doing a poor job in hiding his feelings. You two were sitting on his bed, he was straddling your lap as you did his makeup. Why? Why not? No reasons in particular. You two just had time to waste and an extra excuse to be together. The room was quiet with the exception of the cars passing on the street every so often and the soft, quiet music he was playing in the background on his laptop. There was not a word from you nor him though, which is making him more agitated.

His mind is going so fast, trying to decode if you have caught on the fact he has stared at your lips for the 10th time alone in those five minutes. Or the fact he was fidgeting more than usual or even how his breathing was picking up each time slightly more when you got closer to him. Your breath was hot, the minty scent of the mint you ate earlier lingering between you two as your eyes were so focused on his face. He almost felt shy under your intense gaze, the way your eyes were so accurately looking and sculpting him like the finest artwork.

The brush you were holding gently caresses shades of sparkling pink on his eyelids while your tongue slightly pokes out of your lips in concentration. So kiss me, pretty little bird. His heartbeat sped up and before he could control it, his mouth opened to let out the most foolish nonsense he has ever let out.

“You do know– once a penguin chooses its mate it’s pretty much for life?” why in the fuck did his mouth even say..

“Yeah? I did not know that actually.” you say, your lips curling in a smile as a little laugh leaves your mouth. So sweet.

“Yeah– I mean, it’s pretty cute. Like, maybe you know, we should do like them. Like the penguins I mean.” he says out before he can register what he had just let out. For the love of– he truly was an idiot at times.

You stayed quiet. Maybe choosing if to ignore what came out of his mouth, laugh or run away. Maybe all three. And he wouldn’t have blamed you if you chose the latter.

“Tim?” your voice is quiet, interrogative almost.

“Yes?” god he hated how quiet and pathetic he sounded.

“Are– you saying what i mean you’re…” you stop your sentence in half, looking at him with your mouth slightly apart. “I… I am sorry” you muttered quickly.

“Sorry for w–” but his words died on his tongue as your lips touched his. An involuntary moan left his lips at the sensation. He pushes more of his weight on you, making your back touch the mattress as his hands find your cheeks to deepen the kiss. Gentle yet such a hungry kiss.

“You– you’re shit at flirting” your words came out in a pant, your smile soft and teasing, as a small chuckle left your lips. Lips that were still touching his, despite being separated to catch some air.

“I– oh just shut up” he says equally panting, grinning as a fool, as his lips touched yours again and again and again.

And hopefully, for the rest of eternity too.

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lovingme232 · 6 months ago

Text

Christmas Drama

Five X Reader

//Five chose his brothers wife over you.//

949 Words

You were with Five from the moment he entered the commission. You were with him when he decided to jump back to his 13 year old body, bringing you back into your with him. You were with him when he and his siblings destroyed the earth for the first time, then the second, and then the third.

Who knew how many years that was. You certainly didn’t, but what you did know, or what you thought you knew was that you and Five had something special.

Maybe you got that idea from the picnic dates, or staying up all night, cuddling and talking. I guess he thought all the kisses were nothing. He even left that God awful mannequin for you.

But not this time.

Instead he came back to Diago’s home, after just spending a few hours with Lila, and he couldn’t stop gazing at her, staring at her. The things he used to do to you.

You knew immediately what was wrong. Diago didn’t get the hint. He was hugging and kissing her. He didn’t notice that she didn’t do it back. Maybe it was because he truly missed her, or maybe she was right about how much of a lousy husband he was.

Five didn’t even dare glance your way, but maybe it was better that way. You were scared you would break if he did.

Five shot dirty looks at Diageo. He didn’t notice them either. But you did. You noticed everything. All the far off looks. The way Lila couldn’t keep still.

That was until Luther noticed.

“Hey what’s with you, you’ve barely said a word?” He said, and I got ready for the outburst.

“It’s called thinking, Luther, you should try it some time.”

Everyone got after him, but you didn’t have the guts to. You didn’t want to lose any more than you already had. So instead you sunk back into you seat, and kept your mouth shut. I watched as Lila did the same, but she didn’t sink back into her seat, instead she sank back into her husband. Adding fire to the fuel.

Five stood up, and you knew something bad was about to happen.

Finally the princess spoke. “Five, it’s gonna be okay.” It was like the one video of the girl going ‘this isn’t you’, over and over again.

“It’s not going to be okay.” Five said back in a snarky tone. Maybe, you thought, maybe just maybe you had gotten it all wrong and whatever happened between the two of them was nothing.

Diageo stood up, telling Five off. You watched as they inched closer and closer to a fight. Perfect for Christmas, right?

Then he saw the bracelet. Even you didn’t notice that. It brought back all your prior fears. He gave her a bracelet. He never did that for you. But he did it for his sister in law? This was messed up. You didn’t know if you wanted to cry or scream, or do both at the same time, but all three options felt better than watching this play out.

You stood up to leave, but before you could you got sucked back in. “You hate bracelets.” You heard Diageo say. Lila denied it, until he brought up the dreaded valentines day.

They had the same look. Both Five and Lila knew they had messed up in some sort of way. You looked over to Diageo desperately. He was already looking at you. I guess your relationship with Five was no secret. Both you and Diageo had the same desperate look on your faces.

“Did you give her this bracelet?” Bingo. Five looked so shameless, maybe even proud as he said, “I made it.” It shattered your heart into little pieces. But Diageo clearly hadn’t heard enough.

“Is there something going on between you two?” The final question. The one that could end all of your worry, or bring it on ten times worse. Somehow you already knew the answer. He looked over at Lila, how was she so okay with all of this? “Diageo..” The moment she said it everyone knew, and you knew it was time for you to leave.

You left, and a sharrade of people calling for you broke out. And finally Five remembered your existence. He called out your name, but you were already storming out of the house.

You sat down on the porch, and rested your head on the wall. Part of you hoped that Five would come after you, but you didn’t want to see or talk to Five.

After a few minutes of silence, the door opened. “Y/N.” It was Five. He didn’t sound angry, he just sounded exhausted. You sighed, and lifted yourself away from your wall of self pity. “Yeah.” You responded, trying to sound as normal as possible.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He started off with. You wanted to respond with a snarky comment, ‘well you still did, didn’t you’, but instead you didn’t respond at all. “I really did like you. A lot.” He said, looking directly at you.

You turned to face him. His hair was messy, and he looked so lost. “You love her?” You asked, he looked a little shocked. “What?” It was like he hadn’t even confronted his own feelings. “Do you love her?” You repeated. He turned away from you, looking at the street, and the sky. He had a little smile on his face. “Yeah. I love her.” He sounded so proud, he was proud. You nodded, and got up, with a small, ‘okay,’ before you started wandering off, ready to get lost between thousands of houses and streets.

#the umbrella academy #five hargreeves #five hargreaves x reader #fanfic #tua season 4 #spoliers #what is happening #five

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evilminji · 1 year ago

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You know what I never see explored?

"Not on MY watch!" Superfan Dash Baxter. The young, limnal, quarterback built like a tank and willing to hit like one.

Because let's be real here. Imagine that scenario: Dash, heading to practice with his Bros. His best friends. The team. When? Oh shit! It's PHANTOM! Best day EVER right?

Except it's NOT.

Somethings wrong. He's not as graceful as he usually is. There is no clever comebacks. He looks beat up, man. What HAPPENED? Everyone looks confused when Dash looks around. But before he can call up to him?

Phantom is Shot Out Of The SKY.

Hits the football field HARD. The entire team is already running. Full sprint. It's those fucking GIW. Already driving onto the field and tearing it up. Jumping out, weapons primed.

Phantom's not... oh god, he's not getting up.

He looks hurt. Really hurt. Those bastards are closing in.

Dash's team? Has his back. They're also fans. Friends of his. Not a single one hesitates. They put their BACKS into it and welcome these sick fucks to Tackle Practice. With a follow up of "Taste Your Own Teeth". Amity special, coach would be proud.

But Dash... fuck, he can't wail on these guys AND protect Phantom at the same time. Kwan tells him to go. Throws him his keys. His car is least shit. Dash owes him SO many pizzas for this. First pick on movies for LIFE, man.

It hurts to leave his team behind. His best friend. But Dash has to GO. He can already hear the Fentons closing in. He grabs Phantom, his HERO, and runs for his life.

Barely manages to peel out of there in time. Floors it. Calls Paulina, obviously. She and Star are doing a spa day thing. She picks up because she KNOWS he wouldn't bother her if it wasn't serious. And-!

Oh...

Oh fuck.

In the rear view mirror. The Fentons and GIW just screeched onto the road behind him. Closing distance FAST. What does he do? Paulina he can't... he WON'T hand Phantom over!

And of course she understands. For God's sake, she in LOVE with the guy. He's never heard her sound so scared and furious. They'll get phantom over her twice dead body. She and Star are making some sort of noises, chanting, and...?

Giant Amazons with swords? GHOST Amazons. Suddenly in the road, jumping over his car to attack the cars behind him. Paulina what the FUCK?? She been talking to her Abuela, APPARENTLY. Who's friends aunt's "roomate" was particularly good at communicating with the dead. So OBVIOUSLY Paulina got her to send notes and studied them in secret.

Gotta be able to speak to you future husband's family in their native language. You win brownie points. Gives her a step up. "Not the point"? It's kind of a point! Giant warrior women! Who-?

Paulina made friends while practicing.

Of course she did. Why is he even REMOTELY surprised she chose the giant terrifying Amazons to be beasties with? He's know her for years. He should know better by now.

.....he feels small asking. Hates that his voice shakes. But... but what do they DO, 'Lina?

What he hates even more is the little shake in his childhood friends voice, even though she's trying to sound certain and strong. What they Do? What they DO is Dash drives his ass the her house, gets in her BETTER car, which she is going to load up, and they leave Amity.

She has LOADS of money. All sorts of jewelry. They're very last season. Frankly, she.. she can't WAIT to pawn them if they have too. They just have to drive. Get Phantom as far away from those freaks as possible. Get help.

And? It could go so many ways from there? Paulina LOVES Phantom. How will she reconcile that with her views on Fenton? How will Dash? Seperated from their roles as "the popular ones" and "the crazy people's son". Knowing that... that Danny likes her TOO.

But she's been AWFUL to him. She said so much. DID so much.

Do the even? LIKE each other? Or just the IDEA of each other? The person they made up in their heads.

They're afraid, tired, on the run. But free from school, the expectations of others, the baked in histories of a small town. Who ARE they as people? Do they like each other? COULD they?

I want to believe that Paulina really means it. That no one is at their best in middle and high school. They say and do stupid, mean, shallow shit. Because the world presses and presses and tells them it's all they are worth. Because they don't know who they ARE yet. Because she is a child. Not yet eighteen.

And Danny isn't perfect either. He saw a pretty, pretty face and got distracted by it. Didn't see how HARD she works. How smart she is. How ambitious and brilliant at reading people.

Are they trying to get to an Embassy? To Paulina's extended Family to the south, who would most certainly take them in, and would gladly fight gods for them? Or is this a crossover? Are they going towards other Heros? Older ones?

Is Paulina planning to pull a Lois Lane and Cause Problems On Purpose? Is Dash HAUNTED by "oh fuck, Wes was right." And now knows he's gonna have just... just WALK UP TO THEM. Broad ass daylight. Like "hello, I clearly know your secret identity! Please don't kill me!"?

Whatever the plan? Danny is in the back row of Paulina's once nice, now beat to hell car, bleeding irresistibly damaging acidic ecto-blood all over the seats. Wrapped up like a mummy. Texting Tucker.

The live tweets from Amity are... An Event. A Spectacle for the ages. His parents KNOW now, have speed run their grief STRAIGHT to RAGE, directed that rage at the GIW, and gone to WAR. Once a Fenton, always a Fenton. Jazz was right. "Anti-ghost" sentience testing once a week DID pay off.

Was it a pain in the ass? Absolutely. But results don't lie. He clearly passed. Is clearly sentient, emotional, and their son. All in hard numbers they ran themselves. Will it stop them attack FULL ghosts? Jazz has no idea. But it sure did convince them to put the GIW in a hole and fill it with concrete.

Danny's getting reports of "you SHOT MY BABY!" Being shouted in public. Sam has decided to channel her frustration at being unable to help him into Full Goth Dramatic Shit Stirring. Non-waterproof mascara, disheveled hair. Clutching a picture of him. Dramatic howling and weeping in the arms of her parents.

Apparently now that he's presumed DEAD, the Mansons ALWAYS loved him. Like a SON to them. A sweet, innocent child. Their daughters friend! The GIW are monsters and child killers, they decry.

And the Red Huntress is... Oh, yikes. Yeah he should call her. Val is one more bad thing happening from her villian origin story. At least she... PROBABLY... has killed anyone yet. Note to self: when Danny can actually move torso again, buy Valerie soothing anti-stress...everything. All the things. She responds to stress by punching. Deliver from safe, non-punchable distance.

All in all? My Dash? Needs more Dash! Give the popular kids a chance to prove they aren't just cardboard cut outs! That they can grow beyond the roles high-school and society has pushed them into! Give them some trauma! Why only Danny? Spread the psychic damage!

@stealingyourbones @hdgnj @the-witchhunter @nerdpoe

#dp x dc #dpxdc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dc x dp prompt #danny phantom #dp prompt #dash baxter

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pickingupmymercedes · 2 months ago

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When hating you was all I wanted 3/3 - Lewis Hamilton

A special trilogy part of 1K Jukebox Event

Longer than I care to admit (pt.1) | Even when I said I didn't (pt.2) | When hating you was all I wanted (pt.3).

song: Ruin my life - Zara Larsson (it's not on the jukebox but I heard it and I knew it was the perfect one to tie up the other two songs together)

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

a/n: shout out to those who read Ways to say "I love you", there's a special nod to one of the prompts

wordcount: +2k

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

______________________________________________________________

The overlapping announcements, rolling luggage, and hurried footsteps are chaotic on their own right.

But I can barely hear it over the frantic pounding of my heart.

I don’t know how I got here. My hands still tremble from grabbing my keys, slipping into my shoes, and bolting out of the apartment like my life depended on it.

Maybe it does.

Each step is a struggle against the tide of people flowing in every direction but mine. My lungs burn as I push forward, my mind looping the same damning mantra over and over:

You’re too late. He’s gone. You’ve lost him.

The flight notification had burned into my mind the moment I saw it, a flashing reminder of the time I don’t have.

Forty-five minutes until takeoff. Thirty-five if they’re boarding now.

The logical part of me knows this is reckless.

Security is probably already eyeing me, suspicious of the girl darting through terminals like she’s in a spy movie. I should stop.

Think. Breathe.

But logic doesn’t matter when you’re running for your heart.

My hand shakes as I clutch my phone, the unanswered calls mocking me on the screen.

“Come on, Lewis,” I whisper, desperation threading my voice. Another call, another ring that leads straight to voicemail. “Pick up. Please.”

The last word cracks like a plea, lost in the cacophony around me.

I hate airports. I hate how cold they feel, how big and impersonal they are. How easy it is to lose someone in the endless sea of faces.

But most of all, I hate how every passing second feels like one more nail in the coffin of my cowardice.

You let him leave. You let him leave because you couldn’t say what he needed to hear to stay.

My chest tightens, the weight of my own mistakes mixed with the lack of oxygen. My heart racing with something I couldn’t tell if was desperation or a panic attack

I glance at the departure board. Flight 238. LAX to JFK, already boarding.

My stomach twists into knots as the words flash on the screen.

He’s leaving. He’s really leaving.

I weave through the throngs of people, scanning every face, every figure.

None of them are his.

My chest aches with every breath, but it’s nothing compared to the ache in my soul. The memory of his face before he left keeps playing in my head like a broken record.

The resignation. The quiet heartbreak. The way his shoulders sagged as if carrying the weight of every unspoken word between us.

I didn’t think it would hurt this much. I didn’t think I’d miss him before he even left.

But I do.

I miss him more than I thought I could.

“Can’t or won’t?”

The way he said it still cuts deeper than I expected, the pain raw and unyielding.

“The difference is everything, Y/n.”

He was right. The difference is everything. And I chose wrong. I chose fear. I chose safety.

But none of that feels safe now. Not when every breath feels like it’s crushing me. Not when the thought of him leaving makes me feel like I’m suffocating.

My mind is a battlefield of fear and hope, every thought slamming into me with relentless force.

You can’t let him leave like this.

The thought of him on that plane, of losing him for good.

I fumble with my phone again, my vision blurring as I type out a message.

Y/n: Lewis, please. Just call me. I need to talk to you.

Y/n: I’m sorry. For everything. Just… please don’t leave like this.

The words stare back at me, mocking in their simplicity. I hate how weak they make me feel, how small.

But I hit send anyway. It’s the only thing I can do.

Minutes pass. Still nothing.

I make it back to the main terminal, scanning frantically for the gate. The flight number blinks mockingly at me.

Final boarding.

My stomach lurches. My sneakers slap against the polished floor as I break into a run. People turning to stare, but I don’t care.

I reach the VIP gate just as they announce the last call. My chest heaves as I lean against the counter, gasping for breath.

“Did the NYC flight just close?” I manage to ask. The attendant looks up, startled by my urgency.

“Yes, ma’am,” she says.

My heart leaps into my throat. “Lewis Hamilton,” I blurt. “Is he still here?”

She hesitates, her professional mask faltering for just a moment. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I can’t disclose that information.”

But her hesitation is enough.

I spin on my heel, my pulse roaring in my ears. My eyes scanning the hallway from the private lounge, and then I see him.

Lewis.

He’s standing off to the side, his back to me, his carry-on slung over one shoulder, his phone nowhere in sight.

He looks calm, collected, every inch the man the world knows as Lewis Hamilton.

He’s waiting. For what, I don’t know. And for whom, I can only pray.

My breath catches, my chest tightening painfully.

Say something, Y/n.

But the words stick in my throat, my legs frozen in place. He looks so composed, so untouchable, and for a moment, the fear overwhelms me.

What if he doesn’t want to hear it? What if you’ve already ruined everything?

Then he starts to move, his long strides taking him closer to the gate.

No.

The realization slams into me like a freight train, and I stumble, my momentum faltering.

“I love you!”

The words burst out of me before I can stop them, my voice cracking under the strain of desperation. Raw and desperate, cutting through the noise of the terminal.

People turning to stare, the sound echoing in the space.

My heart skips a beat as his head turns, his eyes wide and filled with confusion. For a moment, he’s frozen, his carry-on slipping from his shoulder as if the weight of my confession is too much to bear.

I don’t wait for him to process it.

I run.

Security be damned, people be damned—nothing matters except getting to him.

“I love you, Lewis!” I scream again, my voice breaking on his name.

And then his eyes meet mine.

The distance between us shrinks, my steps faltering as I finally reach him. His eyes are wide, stunned, like he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing.

And then time seems to stop.

“I have loved you for longer than I care to admit. I have not stopped loving you, even when I said I didn’t. Even when hating you was all I wanted.”

The words are spilling out now, unstoppable.

Within arm’s reach, I take a deep breath before continue, my chest heaving as I search his face. “Even when I was too scared to say it,” I whisper, my voice barely audible now. “Especially then.”

His eyes search mine, their intensity almost unbearable.

“Y/n…” he breathes, his voice barely audible over the pounding of my heart.

His gaze locks on mine, searching, waiting, giving me time to catch up to the enormity of what I’ve just done.

His hands hover near mine, hesitant, cautious, like he’s afraid I’ll disappear if he moves too quickly.

I don’t take his hand though.

I can’t.

I need so much more.

So, I reach for the back of his neck, my fingers caressing the soft hair at the nape of his neck.

His skin warm under my touch, grounding me in a way nothing else can.

His gaze flickers between my eyes and my mouth, his expression a mix of hope and disbelief.

“I love you” I whisper, the words finally spilling out like a confession. “I’ve always loved you.”

The air between us crackles with tension, the kind that pulls you in and refuses to let go.

And then, as if on instinct, his arms wrap around my waist, pulling me flush against him.

The kiss is everything and nothing like I expected.

It’s soft at first, tentative, like he’s testing the waters, but when I respond, it shifts.

It’s heat and longing and every unspoken word we never said, all wrapped up in his lips moving against mine.

His hands anchor me to him, one at the small of my back, the other on my jaw.

I can feel the stubble on his beard, the faint scent of his cologne mingling with the salt of my tears.

It’s overwhelming, consuming, and I never want it to end.

When we finally pull apart, his forehead rests against mine, his breaths coming in uneven gasps that match my own.

“I can’t keep leaving you behind” he says, his voice rough with emotion.

“You won’t have to” I reply, my hands still cradling his face. “Not anymore.”

His eyes search mine, and for the first time, I see something I never thought I deserved—relief.

And love.

“I’m going to ruin your life, you know?!” I murmur against his lips, a shaky laugh escaping me.

He pulls back just enough to meet my gaze, his eyes soft. “As long as you’re in it, I don’t care.” he whispers, his voice full of intent.

The sound of distant murmurs pulls us back to reality. People are staring now, phones raised, whispers spreading like wildfire.

Lewis glances around, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Well,” he says, his tone dry, “now we really can’t go back on this.”

I laugh softly, resting my forehead against his. “No,” I whisper. “We can’t.”

Before I can say more, security approaches, their expressions a mix of exasperation and recognition. “Mr. Hamilton, Miss…” one of them starts, clearly trying to maintain professionalism despite the chaos.

Lewis tightens his hold on me, his smile turning playful. “Looks like we’re causing a scene.”

I can’t help but laugh, my heart feeling lighter than it has in weeks as he responds. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Come on,” he murmurs, his voice low and full of promise as we're scorted back to the vip lounge. “Let’s go figure this out”

And none of it matters.

But him.

And for the first time in what feels like forever, I’m not running away.

I’m running towards him.

Towards us.

"Okay, so I gotta ask," I say, glancing around the sleek but surprisingly compact space. “This is the glamorous life of an F1 WAG? I thought there’d be… I don’t know, more gold-plated chandeliers or something.”

Lewis snorts, looking up from the kitchenette where he’s fiddling with a cup of tea. “You were expecting a palace on wheels?” He saunters over, his grin equal parts amused and smug. “Sorry to disappoint, princess.”

I stretch out on the plush sofa—a truly luxurious thing to have in a motorhome, to be quite honest.

“Honestly? I thought I’d at least get a jacuzzi”

“Jacuzzi?” He raises an eyebrow, setting the tea down on the small table before climbing onto the sofa beside me. “You’ve got me. Isn’t that enough?”

I roll my eyes, but my smile betrays me. “Barely.”

“Barely, huh?” He leans over me, bracing himself on his elbows so that his body hovers just above mine.

His scent—clean, warm, and uniquely Lewis—envelops me, making the space feel small.

“You want out already?” he asks, his voice low, teasing, but with just enough vulnerability underneath to make my chest ache.

“Never,” I whisper, my fingers sliding up to tangle softly in his necklace. “You’re stuck with me now.”

His lips twitch, his eyes softening in that way that always undoes me. “Good.”

I pull him down, meeting him halfway for a kiss that’s slow and tender, the kind that feels like home.

His weight settles over me, grounding me, and for a moment, everything else fades—the race, the world outside, the chaos of the past few days.

It’s just us.

“You’re terrible at pretending you don’t want me, you know” he murmurs against my lips, his tone playful.

“I wasn’t pretending” I counter, though we both know it’s a lie. “I was… confused.”

“Confused,” he echoes, kissing the corner of my mouth. “You sure about that?”

I laugh softly, threading my fingers through his hair. “Positive. Now shut up and kiss me again, Hamilton.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

His lips crash into mine, and this time, there’s nothing slow about it.

It’s all heat and need, his hands finding my waist as he presses me further into the cushions.

And in a motorhome, surrounded by the hum of a f1 paddock outside, I finally realize something.

It doesn’t matter where we are—whether it’s a cramped motorhome, a five-star hotel, or the middle of an airport.

As long as it’s with him, it’s exactly where I’m meant to be.

My decision of a lifetime, one that after that day I'd make every day, over and over.

_____________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @itsmrshamilton @vicurious28

@0710khj @thecubanator2 @neilakk @bigratbitchsworld @adriswrld

@fearfam69691 @cmleitora @goldenroutledge @timmychalametsstuff @jpgnsf

@priopp123 @strqirlhrts @hmmmmm-01 @bisexual-babygirl-mj @bebesobrielo

@hiireadstuff @f1-football-fiend @unlikelystay @thesizzler

If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

#f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 scenario #f1 x reader #lewis hamilton #lh #lh44 #lewis #lewis x reader #lewis imagine #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton one shot #lewis hamilton imagine #lh44 x reader #lh44 imagine #lewis hamilton x you

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honeycreammilkshake · 5 months ago

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as both a sukuita and sukuna fan, chapter 268 killed me. at first i thought it was because we finally got another really intimate and highly emotional scene between sukuna and yuuji, and that sukuna chose to die over accepting yuuji's kindness, but now i can't stop thinking about how this entire chapter was such a good character study and a metaphor for one of the most important themes in the story.

in chapter 21, there's a really interesting conversation between junpei and mahito, where junpei disagrees with the quote "the opposite of love isn't hate, it's indifference." he knows how evil people can be so he chooses to feel indifferent about human suffering instead. mahito's view on this is also really intriguing, especially considering how he is a curse born from the hate people share for each other.

i could be wrong but it sounds like the basic message here is that deadening yourself to such intense feelings — love or hate — is a type of retaliation for being hurt or consumed by them. which makes me wonder if sukuna had a similar story to junpei, and if that explains how he became what he is.

we know that sukuna wasn't wanted as a child. he was more than likely rejected by both normal society and the jujutsu world. like junpei he was probably treated cruelly or strongly made aware of the many people who hated him. sukuna claimed to know what love is, but i think what he actually understood was the absence of love. he understood maybe what it means to others, but he had never felt or experienced it himself.

which brings me back to junpei's idea that indifference should be the solution. this is kind of the same philosophy sukuna has: he believes in this unshakable hierarchy of strength where the weak should have no right to lament their suffering. his idea was that the strongest were indifferent to suffering, that it's greedy to be lonely because of this. he calls it his "nature" to live in this self-indulgent way that is completely uncaring and selfish.

but then there's yuuji.

yuuji has been alone for a lot of his life. at the beginning, he doesn't have any really close friends, since even the other occult club members don't know him all that well. his only family was wasuke, who was difficult and pushed people away, including yuuji.

after his grandfather's death, he wanted to do right and fulfill wasuke's request of helping people, to be able to die surrounded by those he cares about. he pretty much gave his life to help other people by accepting responsibility as sukuna's vessel, and shows concern and kindness even to strangers.

he seems the exact opposite of sukuna and he stands for all the things that the king of curses hates... so why is it that someone sukuna considers so weak has so much power over him?

the only one who's really managed to make sukuna rethink his ideas of the world has been yuuji. even sukuna acknowledged that he was affected more by yuuji than anyone else.

to him, those who challenged him 1000 years ago were "other people." his relationship with yuuji was and always has been so special that even he admits it.

sukuna mostly strived for indifference his entire life. consuming so many humans was merely a way for him to pass the time until death, as he said, and those tastes were passing and unmemorable for the most part. everything was so unfeeling about the way he made his philosophy sound during his conversation with kashimo, and he couldn't answer as to why he would decide to cross the ages into modern life if his life before had been truly satisfactory. it's like he wasn't even moved to support his own ideals.

but here yuuji is... an annoying brat he called weak and boring, yet every time they fought sukuna looked thrilled and even impressed, though he resented it. and every time yuuji challenged him, sukuna was bothered enough to challenge him right back.

"the opposite of love is indifference." if this is true, sukuna was most likely forced into his indifference due to the fact he was never wanted or loved. but yuuji awakened so many feelings inside of him, too many. living as sukuna's vessel, they shared such a close connection while still opposing each other in every single way. yuuji represented the intense feelings of both love and hate in the way he fought so hard for others while sukuna's own indifference started to break the longer he spent inside of yuuji. he was far more reactive to yuuji than with others, and had even given him special treatment. there were many times he could have killed yuuji or his friends, but he didn't.

yuuji has made it clear that he hates sukuna's indifference to the value of people's lives.

sukuna's indifference towards life is against everything yuuji believes in but strangely enough, yuuji was still willing to accept sukuna. to not only pity him, but to have genuine empathy and compassion for such a monster as well.

he even says to sukuna that they are the same, despite seeming to be complete opposites of each other.

to me, yuuji saying that the monster sukuna became was a matter of chance, shows that he understands how indifference cut sukuna off from having a different fate.

there is a vast area of shades between love and hate, unlike the overwhelmingly static state of indifference. yuuji was showing those shades of love and hate to sukuna, telling him that they could live in the mixed shades of both.

and i really wished sukuna chose to coexist with both that love and hate and remain with yuuji. but he was too used to being indifferent and rejected that offer.

i'm really hoping we get to see yuuji's thoughts on this in the next few chapters, because he looked truly disappointed by sukuna's rejection.

#im still so mad about what happened to junpei ;-;#this is really incoherent and has many errors probably #but i wanted to get my basic thoughts across #honey posts #sukuita #sukuna ryomen #itadori yuuji #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #meta

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generalllimaginesss · 1 year ago

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author’s note: I blacked out while writing this, so it will be as much of a surprise to me when I wake up and reread it as it will to you when you read it for the first time. It wasn’t requested, just something that my brain came up with and wouldn’t let me sleep until I finished it. It’s loosely based off of Olivia Rodrigo’s The Grudge and the movie Sweet Home Alabama (my favorite movie). Also, this is completely made up in my head and in no way reflects something that Luke Hughes has done, or will do. It’s also 2:06 AM and I can’t promise that it’s proofread very well because I can barely keep my eyes open (I worked a double today).

Warnings: cursing, ANGST, cheating, kinda sad but has a good ending. Slow beginning, but I promise it gets better!

Without further ado….

The Grudge

“Hello?”

The single word that was the catapult for the demise of your relationship. The single word that changed the course of what you pictured your future as.

Luke’s side of the call was silent, the only noise able to be heard was his breathing, heavy as if the weight of the world was crushing his lungs, deflating him of life.

He wasn’t supposed to be calling. He had told you he was having a guys week, a time for him to regroup with his brothers and friends at the lake house. It was his own little sanctuary away from the life that he had worked so hard for. A quiet place. He had asked for that time, to which you agreed, he needed a break.

“Luke? Everything ok?”

He wanted nothing more than to hang up the phone in that instance. The reality that he was about to destroy the last bit of trust that you held for him constricting him as he fought with his vocal cords, trying like hell to form some form of vocalization.

“I need to tell you something,” He managed to squeeze the words out, every bit of courage mustered into it. The feeling of facing the mistake that he had made seemed impossible compared to simply just refusing to acknowledge it. He could ignore it all, ghost you, and pretend like he had never ruined everything. He had ruined your relationship, your love. You. He had ruined you, including everything that came from the relationship the two of you developed a couple of summers before he had left to play for Michigan.

Ironic that it would begin and end during the summer.

“Ok. Are you-”

“Are you alone?”

His brothers will kill him when they find out, but your family? The thought of them being there to wipe your tears and listen to your rants that have to do with him break his heart. He had developed a special relationship with your dad, your mom always put a stocking out for him during the holiday season, your brother? He had taught your little brother how to skate, how to play hockey. Even though he couldn’t coach your little brother’s team, he had supported him since the beginning. He had bought him his first jersey. 43.

“Yeah, Luke. You’re scaring me.”

“God, I fucking hate myself. I’m so sorry,” Sobbing, the sound of his arm wiping his nose could be heard. He knew he shouldn’t cry. He chose this.

He knew he didn’t always treat you like you should have, no deserved, to be treated. He didn’t spend time with you like he should have, he didn’t tell you he loved you enough. When you yelled at him about things, he would scream back. He would never hit you, but his words cut through your core, sometimes feeling worse than what you imagined the sting of one of his slaps might feel like.

The anxiety that stemmed from Luke’s call gripped your lungs, confusion coursing through your body outweighing the blood that sucked at carrying the oxygen at the moment. There was nothing random about your relationship, he didn’t surprise you with anything, much less a phone call.

Something is wrong.

The silence was deafening, overwhelmingly so.

“I tried to tell myself that you would never find this out, but there was somebody taking pictures and I need you to hear it from me first, ok?” He closed his eyes forcing himself to find some shred of courage left inside of him.

“Ok,” The word was breathy as it left your lips, a courtesy to encourage him to continue.

“I cheated,” It flowed out of his mouth in such a casual way that it felt like somebody had stabbed you in the back, twisting the knife and watching as you writhed in pain. The taste of iron flooded your senses as you bit your cheek to hold yourself together.

“We went to one of the local bars. She was the bartender, she knew us. Trevor invited her to the house after her shift and me and her ended up alone together while the others were out back and one thing led to another…one of the guys took a picture and posted it on their story. They forgot about you.” He tried to explain it in a way that redeemed himself. He was only 20 years old…this bartender could’ve taken advantage of him, but you knew him.

He didn’t get close to just anybody, he was the gate to his space. Nobody would get through the gate if he didn’t want them to, including this girl. Which made the bile that was building in your throat much more bitter. The fact that he not only cheated, but is trying to play victim makes you bubble with rage. Luke Hughes was very good at many things, but the one thing he had never quite mastered the role of was “victim.”

The shock coursed through your body like metal to a magnet, searching endlessly for something to smash into and deciding your heart was the place to do that. It felt like you forgot to breathe, your lungs aching for a breath.

“Y/N?” He willed you to talk, silence causing more anxiety than your anger ever would have.

“I never would have done this to you,” Your whisper spoke more volumes than a scream would have, cutting through the phone and going straight through Luke’s body. He wished you would scream at him, tell him he fucked up, but the way you said those words made him feel like this was it. He couldn’t come back from this one.

“I’m sorry,” His words were meaningless, but he spoke them nonetheless.

Those two words sent you into a silent rage, one that wrecked the inside of your mind but couldn’t be seen by anyone else. You hung up the phone, throwing it across your room and immediately packing everything that had to do with Luke into a box that you found.

Packing 4 years worth of things that you acquired from him was emotionally draining, each article triggering memories through the years.

His first Michigan Hockey sweatshirt that he had bought himself packed into the bottom of the box reminded you of the date he had planned. He had snuck the two of you into the arena when no one was there and taught you to skate, skills that still stick with you to this day. His first hoodie became yours that night, the smell of his cologne long gone from the comfort it brought you many nights when you felt lonely.

A Devils snow globe and jersey that was decorated with the number 43, his number, packed next. He had bought it for you the day he was drafted, convinced that it would be worth something one day. And it was. Just not to you anymore. The snow globe was attached to a memory that was better left forgotten. It was for your birthday, which happened to be the day after his. When you had gone all out for his 20th birthday, buying him a new custom suit and designer shoes that required months of savings, he gave you a snow globe that “you could add to your collection.” You had said some backhanded things to him, a huge fight came from that. A fight on your birthday, something else that you would’ve never done to him.

The last items consisted of hoodies, a few pairs of sweatpants and boxers, and a couple of jackets. The last thing, however, was something that you didn’t know if you could part with.

It was a letter that Luke had wrote you for Valentine’s Day the second year of your relationship, a sweet surprise that you weren’t expecting with your usual bouquet of daisies and roses, your two favorite flowers.

When you doubted your relationship with Luke in the past, when arguments and fights felt like it was all it consisted of, you always found your way back to his letter. He had told you that you were his end game, that there would never be somebody else that was better suited for him. He poured his heart out in that letter, telling you that he was going to marry you one day. One day when he had made it to the NHL and could roll in money, he was going to buy a rock for your finger and a huge house for all of the babies that you talked about.

Rereading the letter normally made you remember the good times, when things were good, but under the circumstances now it made you want to burn it, to watch his words turn to ash, just like the promises he had made to you.

Meaningless. His words were meaningless now.

It wasn’t always his fault, no. There were instances where you said things that you knew hurt him, things that echoed in the back of his head every now and then. Something along the lines of him never being as good as his brothers, that he would always be in their shadow. That Luke Hughes would be known as “just another Hughes brother.”

Some days he felt like that statement couldn’t be more true, that he would never live up to the records that Quinn and Jack seemed to break every time they stepped on the ice. Some days he just couldn’t see it coming together for him.

But other days he knew he was determined to make a name for himself, for Luke. The Hughes name was a force to be reckoned with. Luke wanted to be even better than his last name. Whatever it took, sometimes at the expense of those around him.

You snatched the letter that was stuck in the corner of the mirror that perched on top of your dresser, the sound of the paper crisp beneath your fingertips. As much as you wanted to destroy the letter, you figured it would be better to send it back to Luke. He needed to see all of the promises he broke and hurt he’s caused.

The paper was the last thing in the box, folded neatly on top of everything else.

Closing the box, you carried it to your car, placing it in the backseat behind the driver’s side. If there’s one thing that could be payback to Luke, it was telling his parents. He thrived on his parent’s approval, likely a symptom of being the youngest brother of an extremely successful family.

Ellen and Jim’s faces burned the back of your mind, so many memories that consisted of the two of them. Countless games at Michigan were spent with the two of them, as well as a couple of trips to New Jersey. You had helped Ellen cook supper many times, and watched as Jim coached his sons. Ellen’s pep talks were rarely intended for you, but you always felt like something could be learned from her wisdom.

The drive was silent, muscle memory the only way you could manage to get there in the state you were in. You didn’t know if the lights were green or if you used your blinker, all you could think about was Luke admitting to cheating. All of the shit you had been through with each other, all of the petty fights, had finally come to a head. You may have gone low, below the belt at some point in time, but this? You never could have ruined him like this, no matter how bad you wanted to.

As hurt as you were, you were numb. Tears wouldn’t fall, your body still in shock over the news.

As you drove up the paved driveway to the house that had become your second home, the emotions hit you when you saw Ellen in the flower beds, digging up weeds and planting new flowers.

She had heard a car approaching, causing her to look up and recognize you. Although she loved for you to visit, you normally didn’t come over unless Luke was with you, especially now that him and Jack owned the lake house.

She wiped at the sweat that was beading her forehead, dirt from her work gloves sticking in some of her blonde locks that were glued to her face. She smiled at you, before confusion flashed and she saw that you were carrying a box.

“Hi, Doll! Luke’s not here, but I’m glad you stopped by!” Her warm tone and kind smile didn’t fade, even if she did notice something off about your demeanor.

Her voice broke you. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to bring her and Jim into this. Maybe you should have just threw everything that connected you to Luke in a garbage can and called it a day.

“Sweetie, what’s wrong?” She walked towards you with her arms open, noticing your quivering lips and teary eyes.

She was drenched in sweat from the summer sun, but you didn’t mind it. Dropping the box on the driveway, you allowed her to wrap her arms around you tightly. Her embrace gave you comfort as sobs racked through your body. How could such a loving mom and dad create such a jack ass? They had done perfect with 2/3 of their sons…what happened with Luke?

“Do you want to go inside? Jim’s working on a sink faucet, but he won’t mind,” She ushered you inside, her hand gently pushing your back.

Nodding, you wiped your nose on your sleeve and allowed her to walk you inside. She quickly washed her hands at the sink Jim was working at, earning a few objections from him, but she hushed him and motioned to you.

His face filled with concern as he noticed something wrong with you. He could fix a lot of things, but girls was something he would leave to his wife.

The leather of the couch soothed the heat that the summer sun had left on your skin. Ellen joined, sitting next to you as she rubbed your back, calming you. She truly was like a second mom.

“Is everything ok?” She held onto your arm, the pressure from her fingers sending tingles to your brain.

“No,” You croaked, the single word rattling your throat as it struggled to exit.

“What happened?” Her voice had dropped below her regular volume, but above a whisper. She cut her eyes at Jim who was attempting to listen from the kitchen.

“He cheated…”

The shock hit his parents as hard as it did you. Quinn would never cheat, Jack? It was questionable sometimes. But they’re baby? The one that had endured the lectures from his parents the longest, the one that had seen his brother’s mistakes and learned from them, the one that seemed so in love with you that nothing could ever separate you both? It seemed nearly impossible. Surely it was a mistake.

“How do you know? The press always lies…” She trailed off, your eyes connecting to hers.

“He told me,” The strength you tried to regain from your prior meltdown was useless as your voice trembled, “…said that he wanted to tell me before somebody else did.”

“Oh, Honey. I’m so sorry,” She pulled you into her arms, watching as Jim rounded the corner to join. You were like the daughter the two of them had always wanted, so seeing you hurt killed them in return. And at the hands of their son? They were immensely disappointed. They didn’t raise him like this.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know what to do, and I probably should have left you both out of it,” Your attempts at stopping the free-flowing tears were useless, so you embraced each one as it fell, “…um, I brought his stuff back. I know he’s at the lake house, but I don’t think I can see him right now. I really wish we could have worked. You two will never know how much you and your boys mean to me.”

“Likewise, sweet girl. I wish I could make this all better. You may not feel like it right now, but our family will always hold a spot for you,” Ellen reassured, a hum of agreement resonating within Jim.

“Anytime you want, and I’m serious, our door will always be open for you. No matter the time or circumstance, do you understand?” Jim waited for you to respond, a nod of your head, before embracing you again.

Their words meant so much, but the hurt still ached, seemingly never ending.

You said your goodbyes, taking in the house that you would probably never see again. The walls holding memories that only those in the house would ever understand or appreciate.

Closing the front door felt like closing a chapter on your life. A chapter that felt like it was ending in the middle with no resolve, but it closed.

It needed to.

———

As the New Year approached, your parents reminded you of the plans they had that would draw them away from home. They claimed that they celebrated Christmas with you, but the New Year meant that you were alone in a house that felt big and lonely while they celebrated with their fellow group of middle aged parents.

The months had passed, agonizingly, since Luke’s cheating admittance. The summer turned to fall and fall into winter, getting colder like you were allowing your heart to do.

A few dates here and there did nothing but remind you that the guy wasn’t Luke. They should’ve been better than Luke since they actually treated you with respect and checked every box that a girl had.

But the lack of teasing, of being the biggest pain in your ass and best friend, made the hole in your life bigger. You were sure nothing would help, not even the texts from Ellen and Jim, periodically, made it better.

They all consisted of the same topic: “How are you doing?”

It was the same old same old, until it wasn’t. Until Ellen texted you after Christmas asking you about your plans for New Year’s Eve. The Hughes had always thrown a party for the New Year, packed to the brim with people.

When Ellen asked if you had plans, you had every intention on lying and saying yes. Saying that you had a date and that he was taking you to see the countdown and fireworks that followed, but something told you to tell the truth. So you did.

After you had admitted to her that you, in fact, would be all alone, she reached out and invitation to join them.

The invitation had toggled in your mind for a few days now. On one hand, you wanted to go see how everybody was, talk to his brothers, catch up with his friends. On the other, you wanted to stay home in your pajamas and watch Andy Cohen get shitfaced with Anderson Cooper while wondering if Luke would kiss somebody for the occasion.

The saying “curiosity killed the cat” proved to be true as you had finally decided to go, a sparkly gold dress accentuated your curves, hugging you in all of the right places, the places that Luke had once yearned for. You don’t know how, but your makeup was flawless, your eyeshadow bringing out your eyes in a way that you had never seen, but you loved it. Maybe this was revenge?

Even though you hadn’t made the drive in over 6 months, you still knew it like the back of your hand. Your nerves were working overtime, anxiety squeezing your thoughts the closer you got to the Hughes’ residence.

What if Luke had a new girlfriend? What if his parents were the only ones that wanted you there? Was this actually a good idea?

Too late now.

There was probably 25 or more cars that littered the driveway, most carrying a minimum of 2 people. It was a relief, maybe you could just blend in with the rest of them. A chameleon in the house of your ex lover.

Music blared, drifting from the backyard into the front, making the walk to the door less daunting of a task. There was no use in knocking, the sound of talking and music would most likely just drown it out, so you took a breath as you pushed the door open. It appeared to be the spot for the more mature crowd, Jim spotting you as soon as you walked in.

He was confused as to who you were at first, but as soon as you gave him a shy smile his face lit up with excitement. He had missed you more than he realized.

“Y/N! What a nice surprise! Come in, make yourself at home,” He squeezed you in a tight hug before relinquishing you.

“Y/N! Oh my, I wasn’t expecting you to come, but I’m so glad you did!” Ellen squealed, the clinking of her heels against the hardwood floors becoming faster as she did her best to jog to you, embracing you like her life depended on it. It lasted a few seconds before she held you out at arms length, examining you.

“Gosh, you look absolutely stunning! That dress was made for you!” She gushed.

“Thank you! I just decided to throw something together last minute. I should have let you know I was coming, but I honestly didn’t decide until right before I got dressed,” you chuckled, explaining the lack of communication on your part.

“Honey, you do not have to explain a single thing to me! I’m just so happy you’re here!” She hugged you again, rocking you side to side.

“The kids, sorry, young adults are out back. I do have to warn you…Luke did bring a date,” As she explained the dilemma, you expected yourself to break down. When it didn’t, relief washed over you. It had been almost 7 months, why wouldn’t Luke have moved on? You couldn’t be mad at him for that part, but you still held a grudge against him for allowing you to love him as much as you did and shattering your heart in the end.

There was never another conversation between the two of you. His parents never brought him up, he had never attempted to contact you, so the resolve was the fact that you returned everything. He had nothing left connecting him to you. That was how it was supposed to be, so there was no need to communicate with you. He had gotten the message loud and clear when he had returned home to a box of his things in his old bedroom and an ass-chewing from his parents and brothers. One that he would never wish on his worst enemy.

He learned from his mistake, but felt like the very toxic situation between the two of you was better left where it was: untouched.

He had been trying to move on ever since, sleeping with any girl that reminded him of you, sneaking them out before Jack had noticed, or simply just embracing the newness of being alone. It sucked at first, but he got used to it.

Ellen’s face flushed with concern at the momentary silence that followed her statement, scared that she would scare you off with the news of her son, your ex, having a date that wasn’t you.

“Ellen, it’s ok! I’m a big girl, I can handle it,” Making light of the situation was easier to fake on the outside, but trying to convince yourself was a bit harder.

You talked to Ellen and Jim for a few more minutes, catching them up on the latest details of your life, and then grabbed a Michelob to give you some liquid courage as you walked to the backyard.

There was people dancing, circles of people talking, various games being played, the scene never-ending as your eyes scanned over them. A few people locked eyes with you, recognizing you as the ex, but most everybody just continued to do whatever it was that they were doing. It wasn’t until Quinn’s eyes softened from his party vibes to concerned big brother that you felt nerves wrack your body. He immediately excused himself from the group he was talking to, making his way through the small sea of people to get to you.

For a split second you wanted to run away, but the rational side of you talked you down. It was just Quinn. Quinn had done nothing to you except loved you as if you were his own sister, so why would you run?

“Y/N! I wasn’t expecting you…how are you?” You immediately threw your arms around his torso, him returning the gesture, his hug similar to the way Ellen had hugged you.

“I’m good! I had no other plans and Ellen seemed like she really wanted me here…”

“Yeah, she hasn’t shut up about you,” He laughed, recalling how his mom mentions you anytime a girl was over, even one that Luke brought, and always comparing them to you when they left.

You were the standard that she held possible daughter-in-laws to, but they never lived up to you, she would admit.

“Gotta love her,” You chuckled, a slight awkward tension fell between you, a foreign, icky, awkwardness.

“That you do,” Quinn tried to repair the conversation, but some friends began to pull him away. He had mentioned to not leave before telling him bye, and then left with the group.

“Didn’t think you’d show up here,” The voice turned your blood to ice, freezing up what the beer had tried to let loose prior. No matter how many ways you envisioned this interaction to go down, nothing could have prepared you for hearing his voice after so long. It wasn’t like “nails on a chalkboard” irritating, but more along the lines when you pick a scab and it starts bleeding again.

That’s quite literally what it was. He was an old wound in your life that was becoming irritated because it was being messed with. No matter how much time had passed, it was still sensitive.

“Well, didn’t think I would be here either. It’s just as much a surprise to me as it is to you,” You turned around, met with the beautiful, curly-haired boy that was once your everything and a petit blonde that was his temporary. She was gorgeous, you’d give her that. But it wasn’t real beauty. It was bought. There’s nothing wrong with that, but her bleach blonde hair, fake tan, and push-up bra was irritating like nails on a chalkboard.

“Do you mind going to get us something to drink?” He turned to his date, giving him the empty bottle that his hand wrapped around.

“Is that a Michelob Ultra?” You almost snorted, her question a breath of fresh air in this unfortunate meeting.

“Not her and I, you and I,” Luke quickly cleared up.

She left with a smirk playing at her lips, kissing his cheek and heading inside.

“God, please let’s go somewhere else,” He grabbed your arm, tugging you to a secluded, area beside the shed out back. Your brain told you to rip your arm from his grip and scold him for thinking it was okay to ever touch you again, but your deemed in control and allow his touch to erupt butterflies in your tummy.

“I don’t know what I was thinking bringing her here,” he groaned, realizing he was still holding onto you, quickly letting go.

“She seems more Jack’s type, if you ask me,” You suggested, Luke squinting his eyes at your words.

“Good thing I didn’t ask…” He may have been the reason the relationship ended, but he wasn’t going to put up with any slander that you had for his current life. The life that didn’t include you.

“Whatever, why did you bring me here?” You looked around at the spot. It had definitely been a spot where the two of you had snuck off to make out several times, escaping the teasing of his older brothers.

“To talk…” He shift his weight to his heels, his hands finding warmth in the pockets on his pants.

“Oh! To talk about you being a complete dipshit and cheating on me this past summer? Yes, let’s talk about that!” Sarcasm dripped from your voice like venom from a snake, targeting the next victim: Luke.

“I’m sorry…” Again, the empty apologies were beginning to grind at you now. You didn’t want the apologies or the excuses. You wanted him to shut up for once, hear you out, and then come up with a genuine apology. He had said his piece, now it was time for you to say yours.

“No, Luke. You’re not sorry for cheating, you’re sorry you got caught. Save the apologies for when you actually mean them,” You started, him immediately shutting up and listening.

“We were so fucking toxic. You know it, I know it. The whole world probably knows it by now. But, God, I loved you so much. I would have spent my whole life trying to fight for that stupid relationship and you turned around and threw it all away. And for what? Some temporary pleasure? You couldn’t keep it in your pants long enough to get back to me?” Your words shot through him, like bullets hitting glass, shattering the surrounding areas. He couldn’t argue because everything that you were saying was true, but he’d be damned if he let you find satisfaction in being right.

“You said it yourself, it was toxic! You probably would’ve found a problem with me being there without you, anyway!” He tried to defend himself, but he was fanning a flame that he shouldn’t be messing with right now.

“Don’t you dare try to manipulate me into thinking your cheating was justified! Luke Hughes, I’ve said some fucked up shit throughout the years, but I never have, and never will ruin your trust. That’s the type of shit that lasts a lifetime. I can’t date anybody else because there’s always that ‘what if’ of them cheating!” Tears brimmed your eyes, softening the wall that surrounded Luke’s heart. He was a tough guy, but the sight of you hurting was a soft spot for him, an Achilles heel.

“You promised me a future, and then turned around and burned it to the ground without a second thought once you got a taste of fame,” Your finger poked at his chest hard enough for him to wince, expecting to see bruises the next morning.

“You’re a liar! A fucking liar and cheater!” Your voice broke as the words left your mouth, but Luke took the verbal beating that he deserved.

“Do you think I want to be labeled as a cheater, Y/N?! I’ve prayed for months that I’d just wake up and it not be real, that we’d still be together!”

“Awe, so sad, Luke. Truly heart wrenching!” You grabbed at your heart, feigning compassion as he began to clench his jaw, the muscle flexing as his annoyance rose. It was hot, but not hot enough for you to do anything about it.

“Stop being such a bitch, it may suit you, but it doesn’t mean you have to wear it.” His eyes grew dark, almost challenging you to see who would win in a game of insults.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot I was supposed to act however you deemed fit. Even if you’re a cheater…”

“I cheated, I’m not a cheater,” he tried to correct, a viscous chuckle tumbling from your mouth in response.

“I’m not! That’s the one and only time that it will ever happen, I can promise you that!” His voice rose in volume as he continued to defend himself.

“Oh, one and done Luke! How nice! My trust is fixed, so there’s nothing left to worry about!” The sound of people counting down in the background didn’t distract you.

10…9….8…

“If I’ve had anything in the past months it’s peace in knowing I don’t have to put up with your fucking nagging anymore!”

7…6…5…

“Yeah, and I don’t have to worry about you fucking some rando anymore!”

4…3…2…

“Shut the fuck up and kiss me.”

1…

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!” The voices erupted behind the shed, but the whirlwind of a kiss muffled it all.

Luke eagerly pulled your face toward him, his lips colliding as intensely as a train hitting a car on the tracks. An accident waiting to happen, but there nothing that could be done about it.

It took a second or two, but you kissed back with the same passion as him, him pushing you backwards until your back hit the wall of the shed.

His lips were like home, sweet and comforting. The remnants of his vodka redbull tempting your taste buds to plunge deeper, but you didn’t, you let him set the pace.

One of his hands tilted your chin up, steadying it as the other pulled you closer from the small of your back. Every sense inside of you erupted in fireworks as his tongue tried to gain entrance into your mouth, but you stood your ground, or tried to at least.

The hand that steadied your chin found itself wrapped around your neck, the shock causing you to gasp as he gained entrance.

“Luke! I finally found something to drink, but we missed our-” The voice immediately tore the two of you apart, the fireworks over the lake and store bought pretty interrupting the fireworks that were going off inside of you. Your breathing was a little shallow as you tried to control it again.

“-kiss. What the hell.” She glanced between the two of you before storming off, her stiletto sinking into the grass as she desperately tried to remove it from her foot.

Luke groaned, but the chirping had just begun for you, “One and done, huh?”

“Me and her aren’t even dating!” He squealed.

“We’re talking about this tomorrow, Y/N. Do you understand me?” He pointed at you as he began to smooth over yet another failed attempt at dating, but he wasn’t going to reconcile that one.

“Aye aye, Captain,” You gave him a silly salute, earning an eye roll from him, but as soon as he turned away from you the smile wouldn’t disappear.

Call you crazy, but you hadn’t felt butterflies for a long time, probably since his note to you. What you felt tonight was an army of butterflies being obliterated by fireworks. The feeling of his fingers around your neck, his jaw muscle contracting, everything about him had turned you on.

Did you really fold that easily?

Oh well. The thought of the next day, the possibility of getting him back, along with his family far outweighed your pride.

He could be your Luke once more.

#nhl imagine #nhl fic #jack hughes #nhl fanfiction #quinn hughes #trevor zegras #alex turcotte #cole caufield #jack hughes imagines #nico hischier #luke hughes x you #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes x y/n #my brain is fried from writing this #but I couldn’t stop writing

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thisismeracing · 2 months ago

Note

Can you please do Mick dating Raikkönen!reader hsc, please?

sure <3 hope u like it, nonny!

Requests are now CLOSED.

MICK DATING A RAIKKÖNEN!READER | MS47

Warnings: mentions of food; tooth-rotting fluff; mentions of family members; not proofread.

▸ my masterlist | my taglist | patreon guide ▸ support my writing by reblogging, leaving a comment (don’t forget to follow me if you like the piece), or buying me a coffee

Raikkönen!reader just like her father is not in for silly jokes or small talk. She’s direct. If she doesn’t like you she’ll tell it to your face. The opposite is true as well - that’s how she told Mick she liked him after they hung out for a few months;

“I like you.” Short, simple, and direct. So direct that Mick wasn't sure if she meant she liked LIKED him or if she was being friendly, but since the latter was unlikely, he gathered up his courage and asked her on a date;

Though Michael and Mikki raced together, and Mick pretty much grew up inside the racing scene, the same was not reality for Yn. She did like racing, but when she was a kid Mikki and her mother chose to prioritize her privacy and her studies, that's how she wasn't friends with Mick. But once they met, it was a perfect match. Mick was shy at first, so that made him silent, and Yn just wasn't interested in talking. The silence was comfortable, though, and she saw herself walking near the bench he was sitting on and sharing a piece of her granola bar with him. Her dad had seen the friendship unfold, and he nicknamed them 'birds' because they would feed each other silently and then leave only to come up the next weekend with a sandwich, a granola bar, a candy, share in silence, and then leave again;

When Mick finally asked Yn on a date she told her dad and though he used to make fun he ended up feeling jealous - he even suggested that he could go too as if it was a friend meeting, not a date. Yn laughed at the situation, something she didn't do all the time, which made it even more special to those around her;

She sent Mikki a picture after the date. Their faces squished together on the screen of the phone. He could see Mick's arms around her shoulders, but her smile was so bright he couldn't help but feel happy for them;

He has dinner with the Schumachers the next month, minus Mick, of course. And they talk about the likelihood of their relationship becoming serious. They end up choosing to support them, Mikki being pretty sure that Yn wouldn't back down if he told her to, and the same with Mick;

Now, Mikki is a bit unsure of everything at first. He did see Mick grow up. He was friends with his family. But still, it was Yn! His little girl. That doubt went away a few months after they announced the seriousness of their relationship. Older Mick was a fun guy, nothing like the babbling kid nor the grumpy teenager he used to be. So the Schumacher and the older Raikkönen ended up realizing they had a lot in common;

After that, it's always "Where's Mick, Yn? Is Mick coming to the family vacation? Are the Schumis spending Christmas with us? Did you give him the book I handed you?" it's funny even;

Mick calls Yn by Raikki a short for her surname. Sometimes he calls her Rai or even Kiki, she hates the latter, though;

I feel like they would be super private. So much that it took almost a year or so for people to pierce the pieces together;

But being private didn't mean they weren't in love. That they were and the garage they attended quickly picked up from the way Mick would smile at her or how she would laugh around him;

Just black cat and golden retriever vibes, but Mick showed Yn her golden side too (the opposite too because Mick started to stand up for himself a tad more);

You know those couples where at least one has to be the person to tell the waiter they got the order wrong? Now imagine Yn is the one who does it while Mick is there like "I wouldn't mind eating raw meet :(" and Yn is like "I want another dish and I want dessert on the house," super serious while Mick is giving an apologetic look to the employee;

Yeah. hihi

#millies inbox #anon #ms47 #mick schumacher #op: headcanons #f1 fandom #f1 x reader #mick schumacher x reader #raikkönen!reader #mick schumacher headcanon #mick schumacher imagine #f1 imagines #f1 headcanons #requests #raikkonen!reader

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bibbityboppitybillyharvgrove · 8 months ago

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BLUE- PROLOUGUE

Summary - Y/N Dursley had always been the ideal daughter, doting, loving and obedient. However, she gets a letter saying she's a witch and is invited to attend Hogwarts, her parents are quick to turn on her. All she has after her parents turn on her is her cousin Harry. But, she falls in love slowly with the friend of her cousin's enemy, Theodore Nott.

Word count - 1711

Warnings - Female reader, use of Y/N, Dursley's treatment of Harry, talks of Voldemort

Author's Note - Welcome to BLUE! I've been planning this series for a long time now and I've finally been able to sit down and start writing it! I currently don't know what house to place the reader in so if you want to be part of the decision head over to my poll to vote on her house! It's been a long time since I've last posted a fic but I'm finally back! I'm gonna try my best to stay on top of my updating and keep posting. I do have a lot of requests to fulfill so I'll start working on those as I wait for the poll results! Lots of love to all of you and thank you for your patience!

THERE WILL BE A TAGLIST SO PLEASE COMMENT OR MESSAGE ME IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE ADDED!

She has always been the ideal daughter and the ideal sister, treating her family with nothing but love and respect. She wished she could say the same for her brother, Dudley. Now Dudley was the most typical spoiled brat there was, he treated his parents like they were made of money and his sister as a servant. When it came to their cousin however, the poor boy was stuck under the stairs, being left out of many things because of who his parents were. Now she didn’t understand what was wrong with the boy, she was close with the boy, he was her best friend and she was his.

They were close in age which aided in their closeness, her parents disliking her being so close with the boy but not saying anything in fear of upsetting their beloved daughter. The Dursley girl, who had a heart of gold, used any allowance given to her to get new things for her cousin who was stuck under the stairs. She shared whatever she could with him, whether it be food, clothes, books or toys. On her birthdays, she chose to celebrate with Harry, always making sure she included the boy in her special day.

On Harry’s birthdays, she was always the only one to get the boy a present, she would save up her allowance as well as any birthday money to get the boy new clothes, toys, books, games and whatever else she could think of. She never understood the animosity between her parents and her cousin but she never questioned it in fear of being yelled at by them.

It was Dudley’s birthday, he had requested they go to the zoo for the day. It was a nice change of pace, actually doing something everyone enjoyed on the spoiled boy’s birthday. She was squished in the backseat between her brother and her cousin, hating every second of it because Dudley kept trying to pull Harry’s hair and pulled hers on one too many occasions. “Stop pulling my hair! Mum, tell him to stop!” The girl complained to her mother.

“Leave your sister alone, Dudley. This is supposed to be a happy day, not one filled with complaining,” Her mother lightly scolded. The long necked woman’s last comment hurt her daughter but that’s what always happened when she would complain about Dudley.

As Vernon parked the car and the family walked into the zoo, Dudley ran ahead trying to pull his sister along with him. She pulled her arm away from him and stuck by Harry’s side instead. The day at the zoo was rather uneventful until the end of the trip when Dudley somehow got stuck in a snake enclosure and the snake got out. However poor Harry was locked into his ‘room’ under the stairs for a week. She would sneak the boy out at night so he could eat something and actually move around.

Now it was a couple weeks later, close to Harry’s birthday, she had already gotten him his present which was clothes that actually fit him. Harry was bringing in the post, handing his cousin a letter addressed to her, keeping a letter for himself and handing his uncle the rest of the post. “Harry, give me your letter, they’re gonna take it, we can open them later,” She whispered to her cousin. He handed over his letter and she hid them in the cupboard under the stairs.

Later on that night, she snuck downstairs and unlocked Harry’s door to find the boy awake, holding their letters in his hand. “You first,” Harry said, putting her letter in her open hand. She let out a breath as she broke the seal and pulled the letter out.

“Dear Miss Dursley, We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed the list of supplies needed for the school year. The term starts on September 1st, we await your owl until July 31st. Sincerely Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress,” She read the letter aloud, “I’m a witch? They’re real?”

Harry left her questions unanswered as he opened his own letter, “My letter says the same. I don’t understand.”

The two of them stayed up the rest of the night, rereading their letters over and over. They stayed awake until the sun rose and Petunia began to walk down the stairs. “What are you doing awake? It’s a Saturday, you usually sleep in,” Her mother questioned.

“Harry and I got the same letter in the post yesterday. It was strange, it was from a school called Hogwarts,” She explained to her mother.

“Vernon! Get up!” The woman shouted to her husband. The fat man came down the stairs at a snail’s pace.

“What is it, Petunia?” The woman ripped the two letters from her daughter’s hand, leaving a large paper cut on her palm as her mother handed the letters over. Her father’s face paled, ripping up the letters.

As the days flew by, the letters flew in by the hundreds, both of them receiving letter after letter until Vernon decided to take them to a remote island to get away from the letters. However, instead, at midnight on Harry’s birthday, a large man had knocked the door down looking for the two. Standing up to the adults and telling them that the two children’s names had been put down since they had been born. The girl was surprised to hear about how her aunt had actually died and about Hogwarts itself. Right then, Hagrid, who had finally introduced himself, brought the two to London.

They had traveled to a place called Diagon Alley, where Hagrid brought the two to the wizards bank to fetch money out of Harry’s vault before starting their shopping spree. They went to all of the shops, the last stop being Ollivanders to get their wands. Harry went first, trying out two other wands before finding his match. It was a little harder for her, trying five wands before she finally found her match.

Hagrid knocked on the window, holding up a snow owl in a cage and a calico cat in another. They ended their day getting something to eat at the leaky cauldron, Hagrid finally telling Harry how he got his scar, how Voldemort killed his parents and tried to kill him even though he was a baby. That night, neither of them could sleep, staying up all night going through their lists and triple checking they got everything they needed for the first term. The next morning was the day they actually got to see the cryptic school.

Hagrid only gave them their tickets when they got to King Cross Station, telling them to follow their tickets before disappearing. The two cousins tried to find the platform and resorted to asking a guard at the station who was no help at all. That’s when they saw a family of redheads talking about muggles. They looked at each other with a nervous smile before choosing to approach the older woman.

“Excuse me, how do you get…” Harry wasn’t sure how to ask his question but the woman was quick to understand.

“Onto the platform, of course dear. It’s Ron’s first time as well. All you have to do is walk straight at the wall between platforms nine and ten. If you’re a bit nervous, it’s better to do it at a bit of a run,” The woman explained to the two. So together they jogged at the wall as the woman instructed, finding their way to the platform.

“Woah,” Y/N said in awe, taking in her surroundings.

They were able to find a compartment containing the same boy they met earlier, asking if it was okay if they sat with him. “I’m Ron Weasley,” The boy introduced himself.

“Y/N Dursley and Harry Potter,” Her cousin introduced them both.

“You’re Harry Potter! Do you have the…you know?”

“The scar?” The girl finished his question for him. The redhead nodded and Harry lifted his hair to reveal the lighting bolt scar on his forehead. The three bonded on the train ride to Hogwarts, getting all of the sweets from the trolley and meeting yet another first year by the name of Hermione Granger. She was looking for a boy’s toad before instructing the three to change into their robes. They all did and just as they finished the train had stopped. All of the students had filed out of the train, meeting up with Hagrid who led them to the boats that would take them to the castle.

The view was breathtaking, the only lights coming from the lanterns on the boats and the castle itself. It was like a dream, she had to pinch herself to convince herself she wasn’t actually dreaming. When she winced she deduced that she wasn’t dreaming and this was actually real. Hagrid led them to one of the professors, the same professor who signed their letters. She was leading them up to the Great Hall for the sorting.

“There are four houses, they will be your home for the next few months until summer, they are Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin,” The professor explained to the group.

“There's not a witch or wizard from Slytherin that hasn’t gone bad,” Ron whispered to the cousins.

“So it’s true what they say, Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts. Draco, Draco Malfoy. This is Crabbe, Goyle and Theodore Nott,” A blond boy interrupted from behind them.

Harry and Draco had a quite heated exchange before the lot of them finally followed the older professor into the Great Hall. The sorting ceremony dragged, Harry getting placed into Gryffindor along with Herminone, Ron and the boy who lost his toad, Neville.

“Y/N Dursley,” The professor called. She walked up to the stool on shaky legs before sitting, the hat getting placed onto her head. The hat coming to life spooked her a bit but she was able to relax for a second.

“Hmmm, you’re a tough one to place, you’re intelligent, brave, loyal and clever. Big traits of all four houses, but where to put you? You would do great things in all houses…Ahhh… I got it, better be…”

#harry potter #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #theo nott x reader #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott x reader #theo nott x dursley!reader #theo nott x fem!reader #theo nott x y/n #theo nott x you #theodore nott x fem!reader #theodore nott #theo nott #harry potter x cousin!reader #harry potter fandom

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pinkpigtailsprincess · 10 months ago

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𝜗𝜚 ݁ ˖ The Advice Column Issue No.1 ; How to deal with fake friends while balancing school life 🎀🧁

Hii Dolls!!!⭐️ This is officially the first issue of my Brand new segment The Advice Column!!!! and i chose the topic fake friends bc as someone who’s had an alarming amount of fake friends in the past i can definitely give endless advice in this topic and its a collab with the @honeytonedhottie !! bc i thought she could also give so really good advice!!🎀⭐️

Are you struggling with keeping up in your studies? worried if your friends are talking behind ur back? Stressed? Feeling like school and socials are just to much??? DONT WORRY!! Dolly n Honey are gonna save the day!! 🎀⭐️

Section 1 ; Honey!!🍯

how to balance ur school and social life (in bullet points) !! 🎀🧁

- make a list of priorities and stick to it like its a handbook

- practice saying no to events and saying no to excessive studying, the key is to find an equilibrium

- combine social and academic events

- make sure to use ur time wisely and do whats important first, so that then u can have loads of time for ur social life!

Section 2 ; Dolly! 🎀

No.1 ; Stand up for yourself!! ⭐️

if ur so called “friend” is constantly make smart remarks about you,scrutinizing you for the smallest thing,being passive aggressive or really just trying to hurt your feelings always stand up for yourself and never let insult like that because that shows that you have no self respect and then they’re gonna just keep doing it set clear boundaries and don’t be a doormat never let this person/people walk all over you , if you didn’t appreciate something they said don’t take shit from them address and make sure it never happens again

No.2 ; spotting a secretly fake friend⭐️!

now there’s obviously “friends” that you can spot from a mile away that they’re definitely toxic but theres also a certain type of friend that could be the sweetest to ur face but secretly talk shit behind ur back and its honestly not that hard to spot one of these “friends” so here are some characteristics of ‘the secretly fake friend’

- never sticks up for you

- constantly lying

- at time can be very passive aggressive

- will tell you that someone was talking about you and not defend you at all

- will make you feel like a bad friend even if they’re wrong in the situation

- if you’ve ever confronted them on their behavior and they say they’re sorry but then repeats the same actions

- lets their other friends talk shit about you

- HUGE VICTIM COMPLEX!

these kinds of fake friends are tricky bc you really can’t spot them at first and then it can be harder to cut them off which brings me to my next point

No.3 CUT THEM OFF !!⭐️

listen i know its hard to let go of these people at first im mean I’ve had to do it multiple times but i swear it gets sooo much easier to not have these people in ur life its way better to have no friends than a bunch of friends thats secretly hate you don’t stay caught up on toxic people like this its a waste of ur own peace and well being , block them,stop following them,stop talking to them have NOTHING to do with these people/person

No.5 ; Ur not special !!

now this title is a bit alarming but what i mean by that is if you have a friend that’s constantly talks down about people for no reason whether it be their friends or someone they know and im not talking about the standard gossip talk bc tbh everyone gossips but im talking about like drags them through the mud calls them mean names and purposefully spreads rumors about other people they’ll do it to do you as well ur not special i doesn’t matter what this person is telling you they’ll talk about any and everyone it doesn’t matter people like this do not care

No.4 ; Being Un-phased !! ⭐️

now after you cut them off either gonna

A. make it seem like they’re innocent and have been nothing but nice to you and try and make you feel bad

B. Act like theirs beef when in reality theres not they just want a reason to start a problem

C. to the standard mean girl remarks side eyes,whispers,random pointing and slightly laughing, or even in some cases talk loudly about you but indirectly

now in any of these situations never let it bother you show no reaction these kinds of people feed off ur fear of them shows no reaction when it comes to things like this and you can also do it back side eye them back,give them weird looks back now im definitely not saying be just like them but play their game don’t let disrespect like this slide and i know how hard it can be especially since these are people ir support be close with but i promise making friends that actually care about you is WORLDS BETTER!!! you’ll have such a peace of mind and being able to make friend that actually care about you is such a freeing feeling!!!!

Reminders!!! 🎀🍯

- they’re opinions don’t matter

- these people are no above you in any way shape or form

- stress is normal don’t let it get to you !!

- you deserve much better friends

- it normal to feel sad after cutting them off

- this person/these people don’t deserve you!!!

- you got thiss!!!

#2sweet2eat🎀🧁#manifesting #The Advice Column with dolly 🎀⭐️#dolly #advice #it girl #itgirl #dream girl #self care #self improvement #that girl #wonyoungism #girl blogger #girl blog aesthetic #girly aesthetic #girl blogging #dollygirl #dollcore

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tnsophiaonly · 1 year ago

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HATED - SAGAU.

In which Self-Aware Genshin People loathe your existence and believe that you're the founding reason why they're not real.

Tired of this obsessive and lovesick creator or impostor SAGAU? Then what about this alternate? Be wary, it's dark and we'll mentions of torture something ig idk

Basically. This is impostor AU and the real creator who looks like you is horrible af. And you're an actual impasta.

Special mentions (♡): @sleepparalasis @haru-tofuu

Hatred. That's all they could feel when they see your face throughout the screen. Amusement. When they see your face wrinkle in pain and frustration when you get a standard character in through wishing or when you get the wrong stats in artifacts. After all, you were the one that made that right? You were the sole reason for your own pain, you made them in a fictional universe, where nothing is real. You're horrible for that and you should take the consequences of such.

That's why you're transported in this place, in which you thought the world was heaven before became your most terrorful nightmare. Hell, just like how it should be. Teyvat is hell. An upside down world, ruled by gods-demons and filled with darkness and pain. The world you created. Right? That's your fault. Your fault alone.

---

"Oh great heavens, that's cold..." you chatted out, freezing and shaking because of the cold. You face the wrath of the Cryo Archon's Nation. The home of the so-called organization, Fatui. Snow and ice were evident everywhere. And the cold, the cold was for sure affecting you. (Especially if you live in tropical areas or close to the equator? I feel so sorry for you)

Any bits of liquid that could be created were frozen within milliseconds. So you're sobbing just makes it worse, maybe if you actually used your feet and moved and found a place to heat yourself up instead of shining and sobbing, you could probably be in a great condition right now.

But you chose to cry. Pathetic really. And you expect this to be an impostor of me? The so great, almighty creator of The Genshin Universe? Absolutely not. I'd rather guide the Traveller to the absolute truth of this world at a fast pace than be, represented by you.

But fear not, I am sure I am able to at least give some potential to you... OFCOURSE I can do it. It's me after all.

But now i should really have this pathetic excuse of an impostor of mine to.. move and do something rather than cry and freeze to death. After all, I can't have my ungrateful people of Teyvat run after a very obvious impostor who's close to dying eh?

So, much to my dismay, I chose to give you guidance, see? Such a kind creator, you're a very lucky fella..

"ah-aaachoo-!" You sneezed, it feels like something just happened, but what? And why? Those questions are left unanswered. As you unconsciously started moving your freezing feet to walk and find some shelter to heat up.

Oh how the torturous snow storm causes you pain and despair. Why were you striving forward anyways? Your whole body aches. It hurts. Why. Why.

"You deserved it." The inner within of the core speaks.

You deserved it..? Why?

No one answers.

----

After walking away which felt like centuries, you finally are met with a bonfire, a large one in fact, the only problem was that it's within a fatui camp. Oh god...

"Well, well, well.. what's a worm like you doing here for?" A taunting and mocking tone says so to you. Oh my Lord, oh it just couldn't get worse thab this, bits of electricity shocked you slowly, you were feeling the wrath of The Balladeer, the 6th Fatui Harbinger. You could only stay in your spot as you feel electro build up within you, hurting you, killing you.

You're sweating bullets of fear just turns to ice because of the environment, it was no use to run.

"Well well comrade, what's with the guest? I didn't know you were quite the welcomer!" A mocking and sarcastic voice taunted the hat guy, which earned him a glare for, the ginger bread- hair man had a boyish charm and looks, almost looking innocent if you didn't know better. Well guess it got worse.

The ginger head guy's eyes widen, as his taunting smile quickly turns into a frown. The mocking gaze turns into a face of anger, annoyance.

"Is that..." he muttered, bewildered and angry. The ginger guy quickly launched unto you, with bloodlust and wrath causing you to flinch, that's before the entire electricity builds up within you and completely shocked you to oblivion, and the ginger's defense mechanism, of course he backed down.

The electro flowing within you caused so much pain, overbearing pain, yet you did not scream. You did not scream in pain. That one thing The Balladeer was hoping for. Maybe the shock was too strong you couldn't scream at all? Yeah, that's it..

The electro shock died down, and you passed out on the spot. Yet you were still not dead. Despite the fact that electro burns were evident, and that you were crisped to the spot, you're still alive. How lucky, or should I say unlucky?

The ginger- you know what I'm tired of calling him ginger, it's Childe. Childe went close to your passed out body. Caressing your electro-burned hand, before gripping it.

A bone crack was heard, oh did he crack it too hard? No worries, he doesn't care. The fatui skirmishers walked close to the place "We'll take care of it Lord Tartaglia." The pyro agent spoke.

"No." The Balladeer protested, as he grabbed a fistful of your hair and forced your head to look at him, ofcourse you're still passed out, and you had an expression of sorrow, The Balladeer could just smirk. It's the creator.

"I could make use of our Grace after all..." He spoke sinisterly. The agents were on the edge and so was Childe, it really was the creator, they were so close to jumping and killing you on the spot if it weren't for the fact that The Balladeer was there.

-----

The sound of chains vibrated throughout the dungeon, sweet little breaths and movements.

You looked around, it was pitch black and only one candle was the source of light, which was out of reach for you.

A swarming and overwhelming feeling of cold and warm was brushed against you, the electro infused chains hurt when you try to make even the slightest movement, why were you here? Don't act stupid, you're aware why.

You could partly hear the conversation outside. It sounded a lot like the fatui agents earlier, it seems they were discussing either transporting you or guarding you still.

Your breath hitches—which echoed in the room— when they mentioned Il Dottore. They're not planning on giving you to him right...?

You could feel yourself sweating bullets, your eyes showed fear as your expression scrunches into fear. There's a 50/50 chance, but you've always lost your 50-50!

The door opens, and someone steps inside, a blue haired fellow, walking slowly and causing an intense atmosphere. You could feel yourself shaken, not because of him, but because everything feels colder. At least that's what's on your mind.

The blue haired fellow caressed your chin. And forcibly made you look at him.

"My, what a wondrous pet The Balladeer has taken upon."

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yeoosaangg · 1 year ago

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៹ CHURCH || KINKTOBER ─ DAY 15

➛ PAIRING:: NA JAEMIN × FEM!READER

➛ NOW PLAYING:: CHURCH — CHASE ATLANTIC

⤷ ❝AND I'LL KEEP LEADING YOU ON IF YOU KEEP LEADING ME INTO YOUR ROOM.❞

➛ GENRE:: ANGST, COLLEGE!AU, SITUATIONSHIP, SMUT

➛ WARNINGS:: MIRROR SEX, BREEDING KINK, CHOKING, FINGERING, MARKING, PRAISE

── ⋆ ⋆ ── 𔘓 ── ⋆ ⋆ ──

Everyone in your new town warned you - do not get involved with Na Jaemin.

It was odd to be told that right out the gate, but you complied. It was a small town, with one university for the locals to attend if they wish to remain in familiar territory.

You chose this college because it's where your mom grew up. She passed away last year and you wanted to fulfill her wishes of seeing the place.

Your dad wasn't enthusiastic in moving there, but he'll do what your mom said because he still loves her.

And when you met a few people, they'd tell you about everyone's business. Literally.

The head cheeleader? Sleeping with the football coach.

The football captain? Sleeping with the music teacher.

Na Jaemin? Stay away from him.

You listened to your new friends for a while; you did not want to be a part of the drama. But because you were "fresh", you had caught his attention next.

Jaemin: One date. I swear you won't regret it.

Y/n: No thanks. Have a nice day.

He didn't give up until you finally cracked. He took the opportunity to approach you when he found out your friends didn't have classes for the day.

Jaemin: I'm serious, let me take you on a date.

This time around, you caved - only to get him to back off!

But after the one date, you both couldn't stay away from each other. You, because he made you feel alive. Him, because you're the perfect little fuckdoll.

Every other girl in that town was so eager to sleep with him, he did it to shut them up and never go back.

But you, wow you couldn't have been more perfect. A virgin willing to let him teach you how to please him? Why would he ever say no to that?

And then the inevitable happened - you fell in love with him.

You knew, by the caution of others, that he wasn't one for commitment. He'll fuck a girl once and never go back. But you felt special because he did come back. Multiple times, in fact.

Everytime you'd bring up a possible relationship, he shuts it down and distracts you with his kisses.

You couldn't take it anymore and decided cut him off if he wasn't going to take you seriously.

Jaemin: C'mon, angel. Don't throw us away.

Y/n: There is no us, Jaemin. You made sure of that.

And you kept your word. You stopped seeing him in secrecy, occupying yourself with your studies. You even met a guy who makes you laugh and feel important.

And Jaemin made a fool of himself by picking a fight with him during one of the lunch breaks.

Juyeon: What the fuck is your problem, dude?

Jaemin: You're my fucking problem, Lee Juyeon. Stay the fuck away from Y/n.

Juyeon: Why should I? Because she agreed to go on a date with me after rejecting you for months?

Jaemin: She's mine. I don't fucking share.

Juyeon: She's no one's property, Na. No wonder she hates you.

That set Jaemin off. He doesn't even know what he's doing, all he knows is he's angry and Juyeon's his target. Lefts and rights collide onto his jaw, drawing blood.

It wasn't until he heard your voice that he finally stops beating the man to a pulp.

Y/n: What the fuck is wrong with you?

Jaemin: Baby, I can expl-

Y/n: Shut up. Just stay the fuck away from me.

You crouch down, helping Juyeon to his feet. You were going to accompany him to the infirmary, but Jaemin wasn't having it.

You yelp when he lifts you off the ground, making his way out of the dining hall and out to the student parking lot. He opens his car and makes sure to put your seatbelt on.

You try to get out, but the door stays locked. Did he child proof it? Such an asshole.

All your friends were in distress as they saw you trying to get out. Jaemin drives off in the direction of his apartment that no one knew belongs to him.

No one except you.

Y/n: Jaemin, please. Just forget about me.

Jaemin: You're fucking crazy if you think I'll listen to that stupid request. I don't want other men touching what's mine.

Y/n: I'm not yours.

Jaemin: Why do you keep saying that? I'm the one that took your virginity, first kiss, first everything! That makes you mine.

Y/n: No, it doesn't. It just means I trusted you at the time.

Jaemin: You don't trust me now?

Y/n: Not with the way you're acting.

If you weren't looking at him, you'd miss the tears streaming down his face.

He never cries.

Jaemin: Baby, please don't say things like that. It hurts to hear you say you don't trust me.

Y/n: Why are you crying? You don't even care about me the way I needed you to.

Jaemin: I want to.

What?

Jaemin: I want to care about you that way, but I don't know how. You're the first girl I've ever felt something more with than just lust. And it fucking terrifies me. But when you left? I felt like I was dying, angel.

This can't be happening right now.

He pulls into the apartment complex's parking garage, and both of you just sit in silence until he speaks up.

Jaemin: Please don't leave me.

Y/n: I can't keep doimg this with you, Jaemin.

Jaemin: Why not?

He looks so sad, an emotion he never displays. You don't want to give in, in case it's all an act.

Y/n: You don't like me that way, Jaemin.

Jaemin: And how would you know that?

You don't, but if he did he would've asked you out when you voiced your affection.

Jaemin: Come upstairs with me. I'll show you that I'm serious about this.

You should've known better than to listen because now he has you on our knees in front of a large, full length mirror.

Jaemin: Remember that conversation we had when we started this?

Y/n: How could I forget?

He asked you what your biggest fantasy in bed was, so you naturally replied with the truth - to be fucked in front of a mirror.

He never gave you that fantasy back then, just stored the information for later.

Your breath hitches when he starts to undress you.

He pauses a bit when he senses your hesitation. Despite his past actions, he meant everything he said on the way there.

Jaemin: Do you want this?

Y/n: Yes.

Jaemin: Are you sure?

Y/n: I want to see if you're telling the truth.

He tries to smile, but it just falls.

He knows it's going to take a lot more than just fucking you to show that he's serious about you. He'll gladly spend months, even years, proving himself to you.

Jaemin continues to undress you, touching everywhere with such tenderness. He usually gets straight to the point and fucks you dumb.

But this wasn't just any rendezvous hookup, you're his everything. And he wants to show you that.

He starts fondling your breasts, using his fingers to stimulate your nipples.

You hate how his touch instantly relaxes you. You don't want to admit it, but you've missed him.

Jaemin: I've never had someone consume every part of my mind, body, and soul the way you have, princess. But, fuck, I don't want that to stop.

Y/n: Really?

Jaemin: Mhm. I can't lose you again, baby. I was already feeling crazy this time around. Next time, I fear I'll do something reckless.

Y/n: You think there'll be a next time?

Jaemin: I have to be realistic. This is all new to me, and I'm bound to make mistakes. But I hope you can find it in your heart to see that I'm trying. For you.

You lay your head against his shoulder, grinding down on his clothed erection.

Y/n: We'll figure it out if the time comes. For now, show me that you mean what you're saying.

He nods, kissing you deeply as his hand travels down to your clit. A moan falls passed your lips - right next to his ear - from finally being touched.

He slides his finger up and down your folds, loving the way your eyes are trained at the mirror. He can see you biting your bottom lip at the sight.

He shoves two fingers inside, making you choke on your moan. He just pumps his fingers rapidly, eventually adding another.

Jaemin: Keep looking, baby. Want you to see how gorgeous you look when you cum for me.

He starts painting your neck with lots of dark marks, staring at you through the mirror. You cum all over his fingers and the floor.

Jaemin: Beautiful.

You watch yourself catch your breath, a smile curling at the corners of your lips. That was so hot, you want more.

He undresses himself, and then positions himself right behind you. He hooks his arm to both of yours, lining his hard cock to your pussy.

Jaemin: Do not look away. Want you to see just how much of a goddess you are when I fuck you. Can you do that for me, angel?

You nod, wiggling your ass so he can put it in already.

He chuckles, bottoming out with no hesitation. He knows you can take his big size perfectly.

You watch yourself ceumble as his thrusts get rougher and slower. He wants you to feel his cock stretching your gummy walls - and, fuck, do you feel it.

Jaemin: You look so pretty taking all of my cock, princess.

He reaches around to hold you by the throat, letting go of your arms in the process. You scream, cumming again from the sensitivity.

He doesn't stop ramming his dick into you, loving the way your face is contorting to one of pure pleasure.

The way he's choking you forces the eye contact you have to make through the mirror. You love the way he's also moaning along with you - usually he grunts quietly.

Jaemin: You're doing so good, baby. Love the way your cunt begs for my cock. Did you miss me, too?

Y/n: So much!

It was hard to speak with his hand around your throat, so a short and simple answer will suffice. He didn't mind, though - your eyes tell him everything.

Jaemin: You want to cum again, don't you? Go ahead, love. Cum all over my cock.

It was like his words activated another orgasm. You can feel your essence dripping down your thighs and onto his.

You feel him fill you up, moaning as the warm liquid paints your gummy walls.

But he still wasn't done.

He pushes your head down onto the ground, chin up so you can still see yourselves.

Jaemin: Gonna get you pregnant, angel. Fill you up so no other man thinks he has a chance with you. They're gonna see how happy we are and get jealous.

You moan, clenching around his cock. You honestly love that idea more than you should.

Jaemin: You like that, don't you princess? Then I'll make it happen.

He continues to pound your pussy, the position allowing him to fuck you deeper than ever. He just abuses your hole until you're filled with three loads of his kids.

He kisses your shoulders, winking at you while his hips smack against your ass.

Jaemin: Look at you falling apart, baby. Think you can cum for me one more time?

Y/n: Mhm.

You can't even speak anymore with how good his cock is opening you up. You both cum one last time, staying in the position until he can properly pull out.

Jaemin: Keep your ass up. Don't want to watch anymore cum escape.

All you could do was listen because your body was twitching from getting fucked dumb by him.

He comes back and gently inserts a plug in your cunt, kissing in between your thighs to help distract you.

Jaemin: I'm running a bath. I'll take good care of you, my princess.

You just let him carry you into the bathroom.

He doesn't get in the tub with you, choosing to focus on you instead. He washes your hair and body so delicately, you'd think he was handling glass.

Y/n: Is it too soon to say the L word?

He freezes for a moment before he smiles at you.

Jaemin: Yeah. But I'll let you know when we can, okay?

Y/n: Okay.

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a/n: yeah, i jinxed myself. gonna go sleep (,,•﹏•,,) thank you for reading ‹𝟹

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