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ayyy-pee · 3 months ago

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𝕆𝕌𝕋𝕃𝔸𝕎

Discord 18+ - Twitter - Part Two of Outlaw Series

Pairing: Outlaw!Suguru Geto x Female Reader Genre: Western AU WC: 8.7k Summary:

“Gettin’ train tickets ain’t easy. Where ya headed?” “Just a few towns over. Goin’ to visit family,” you explain, now more relaxed with him. Something about the way he was able to soothe your nerves makes Suguru feel proud. It also is making him clearly insane, because some sick part of Suguru begins to think he could be your family. If you’ll let him. “What about you?” His brows shoot up in surprise. Why would you want to know about him? “Me?” You nod quickly. “I know you’re…” You lean forward and Suguru mirrors the action as shivers race up his spine when you whisper scandalously, “...an outlaw.”

Story Warning: Train robbery, hostage situation, lying and scheming, profanity bc bitch it's me??, dub-con, Suguru has a corruption kink, needy downbad Suguru, "virgin" reader, guns, smut, blowjob, riding, fingering, spit, thinking about spitting, i love spit, dirty fantasies, titty sucking probably, using ropes, hair pulling (lmfaooooo), threats of violence, dirty talk, inexperienced reader, spit!, overstimulation, humiliation kink, Suguru is kinda pathetic, actually real pathetic, don't get your hopes up idk

Artist Credit: @/tsumusbeloved (on twitter)

A/N: FINALLYYYYY. This has been sitting in my drafts for like 3 months!!! I hope yall enjoy!!!

Tags: @syubseokie @yasu-1234 @cassayeee @glmpsfs @struxkbylightning @aotdump @oidloid @sunnysdiarythoughts @stillseren @lovebittenbyevans @avaatara @elliesndg @luv-kae @megtheebimbo @buttercupblu143 @toffeebrat @kaqua@moggleatlife @candy-s72 @sukunadckrider @xixflower @apchmon

It’s the shrill screech of the metal meeting metal on the train tracks that Suguru enjoys most about his work. How this massive tank of metal carrying so many people can just fly across the country, providing beautiful views of miles and miles of desert sands and mountains. The wildlife roams free on the frontier without a care in the world. And the train just keeps going, filling the sky with thick curls of black smoke.

Yeah, this train has many people on it.

Which means, this train has plenty of goods that will soon be his.

“Ah, you dropped your hat, boss.” A smooth voice speaks behind Suguru, holding open the train door as one other clambers in. Suguru kindly grabs his hat from the man, placing it atop his head as he watches his partner take the last person’s hand, lifting them inside.

It’s a woman, small and with strawberry blonde hair. She grabs onto the man before her. The disgust is clear on her face as her eyes roam along his body.

“Couldn’t pick another day to wear no shirt, Larue?” She complains, spreading a small cloud of dust as she brushes her clothes off.

Larue shrugs, chuckling lightly while he closes the train door. The rushing roar of the winds finally subsides. “It’s hot as all hell outside, Manami. Why not be shirtless? Besides, it gives everyone something spectacular to gawk at.” He motions towards his chest where his new set of ink lies – two hearts, one where each of his nipples are.

“A drunken bet gone right, if you ask me,” Larue had said the night after. “They’re gonna love these at the whorehouse.”

“If you two’re finished…” Suguru begins. Both Larue and Manami straighten up. “I wanna get in ‘n outta here. No funny business. Larue, take the back of the train. Better for you to be there in case the conductor gets any ideas. Grab what ‘ya can get your hands on – jewels, shoes, money. Don’t matter.” Suguru taps his chin in thought, running through his mental list to make sure he hasn’t forgotten anything. “Oh! And don’t forget to check the bars for any spoons or forks. Y’know what that silver’s worth. Me ‘n Manami will take the front of the train.”

Larue nods, no further instruction needed and Manami smiles next to him excitedly. She quickly shuffles over to Suguru’s side, looping her arm through his and Suguru rolls his eyes before slipping his arm out of her hold. Manami shoots him a pouty look before she quickly recovers, folding her arms over her chest.

“Alright, Boss. I’m ready.” She says with a hushed tone. Larue gives one more nod before he turns around and heads the opposite way. He slides the door slightly ajar, peering inside and just after he enters and the door has been shut and locked, Suguru and Manami hear the muffled shrieks of the passengers in the car.

“Hands in the fucking air! This is a stick up!”

Suguru peers down at Manami who is already staring up at him with eager eyes. And it takes everything in Suguru to not roll his eyes in response. She really gets on his last nerve.

‘I gotta get rid of her after this one,’ he thinks as he moves past the woman and into the opposite end of the train.

He slips through the door, closing it quietly behind Manami once she’s in. No one bothers to look up when they come in and Suguru counts his lucky stars that this will be easier than he anticipated. They make their way along the aisle, offering soft smiles to the passengers that happen to look up as they pass. Suguru thinks there’s nothing but a bunch of carefree monkeys too relaxed and stupid as all hell on this train. They don’t even know what’s coming and if they know what’s good for them, they won’t bother to fight back when they find out.

He lets Manami do the work of maintaining a mental checklist of every item worth its salt in this train car. This is where he’ll leave Manami to do her part. Then Suguru will take the final car where the stragglers usually reside. Larue is already taking care of everything in the back. When he’s done, he’ll pile up all the goods in an empty car and then make his rounds to grab what Manami and Suguru collect.

When they reach the end of the current car, Suguru turns to Manami who is already reaching into her blouse. She beams, eyes locked on Suguru as she slowly pulls out a pretty little Colt’s revolver. Her lips pull up at the corners, a sly grin on her face. If it’s meant to be alluring to Suguru, it’s not working. In fact it’s having the opposite effect. It’s so annoying, the way her pupils dilate when she looks at him. It’s only been a few months since Manami joined their group, but it’s only getting worse for Suguru. She spends half her time trying to seduce him and failing. And it’s not that Manami is unattractive. She’s a very beautiful woman, but she’s not exactly Suguru’s type.

He’s looking for someone a bit more…inexperienced when it comes to this life of crime. Someone he can mold into his ideal woman, untouched by the roughness that west has to offer. Manami has been doing this for far too long, and already has habits that consistently get under Suguru’s skin. She’d never interest him that way.

The pink haired woman flashes Suguru her gun, pointing her chin towards the last car as a signal for him to go on. Suguru nods, spinning on his heel and heading towards his destination. And just in time too, because he hears the door on the other end of the train car close and he knows Larue has finished and has come to assist Manami.

The train car slides shut behind Suguru right as he hears the passengers scream in the car behind him. It’s louder than the first instance and catches the attention of the passengers in his car who now stare at him with wide eyes, mouths agape like a sea of fish.

Suguru rubs the nape of his neck, frowning. Then, offering a goofy grin, he mutters, “Ah well…” He reaches behind him, wrapping his nimble fingers around the cool, wooden handle tucked into his waistband. He whips out his revolver, the sun glaring off of the fancy gold weapon as Suguru aims it at the passengers who all shriek in terror. The women clutch their jewels. The men hold onto their women. And Suguru? He laughs raucously before he barks out, “Put ‘em up!”

- - - - - -

It’s a little surprising how easily the heist goes, but Suguru tries not to give it too much thought. You start thinking something’s gonna go wrong and it damn sure will. While Manami is guiding passengers into the back cars, Larue has the conductor held hostage, locked away with threats of a bullet to his skull unless he continues driving. He’d only shown his face and quickly hid away in his cabin when Suguru told him to use his fucking brain unless he wanted it splattered across the window.

Now, Suguru finds himself roaming the cabin to see if there are any stragglers. And there is one. A very beautiful woman, at that. There you sit, in the last seat of the train car. He slowly makes his way over to you. Suguru thinks you must be some type of saloon girl. Your pretty little dress and waist neatly cinched in a leather corset is the giveaway. He glances over his shoulder, just to be sure this cabin is empty, only to find that it truly is only himself and you left. He hates having to wrangle the stragglers. That’s Manami and Larue’s job. And Suguru hates it even more when they’re not doing it.

He tightens the grip on his gun, turning to give you an earful until his eyes meet yours. They’re so wide and glistening, like you’re on the verge of tears. Your lips are quivering, your bottom lip protruding in a pout. It reminds him of the look Manami gave him just before the heist started. Except when coming from you, for some reason, it’s bringing out a different reaction.

His heart rate quickens, and Suguru’s hands suddenly feel clammy and not from the heat in this train car. He can feel sweat beginning to bead on his forehead and he has to swallow to quell the dryness that’s forming in his throat. Then he’s tucking his weapon away into his holster and moving towards you.

“I beg your pardon, ma’am,” Suguru speaks calmly as he takes the seat in front of you. You peer up at him, with apparent fear in your eyes and he wants nothing more than to see that look disappear. Usually, he’d use force to get you out and rounded up with the rest of the passengers. He’s not sure why, but there’s something about you that makes Suguru want to take care of you. “Why didn’t you leave with the rest of the crowd?” He questions.

You’re fidgeting with the fabric of your dress in your lap, visibly shaken even as Suguru removes his hat and sets it on the seat in front of you before he sits down.

“I–” you clear your throat and bite down on your lip, seemingly to calm your nerves.

“I’m not gonna hurt ya, ma’am,” he tells you softly, reassuring you. “Just wonderin’.” Suguru takes this time to drink in your features – how soft you look, the way your body so beautifully fills that dress of yours, how you’ve got a face that will be burned into his memory long after this encounter.

And for some reason, it also feels as if it was burned into his memory long before this encounter. There’s a familiarity about you that Suguru can’t quite place. He’s certain he’s seen your face somewhere. He had been through many saloons and brothels in his time traveling the frontier. Perhaps he had run into you in one of the many establishments he frequented?

No. No, Suguru would remember if he saw a woman who looked like you in any of those places. You would have easily stood out in the crowd. He would have called you up to his room on any of those nights.

You bite down on your lip as you stare at Suguru. As afraid as you look, you don’t break eye contact. To see you so stricken with fear, and yet you steadily look him in the eye without blinking. You show courage even when faced with danger, and it does something to him.

The look on your face has him picturing all sorts of things about you and he doesn’t even know your name.

“I was afraid,” you mutter quietly.

Thankfully so, because Suguru was just about to begin imagining a life outside of crime with you. Which is shocking in and of itself. Three minutes of simply staring at you had him visualizing a future on the prairie hanging laundry on the line while you fed the cattle.

‘Keep it together.’

“Don’t be scared. I’m not gonna hurt nobody,” Suguru reassures you again. He tries to calm your nerves with a smile which seems to work because he sees you visibly exhale. You return his gesture with a small smile of your own, and his imagination runs wild once more.

“Promise?” You ask, Suguru’s smile widens.

‘Cute,’ he thinks. He wants to see more of those. “I promise, sweetheart.”

He can hear the way you huff, something between a laugh and a sigh of relief. And Suguru finds himself becoming more and more infatuated with you as he keeps the conversation going.

“Gettin’ train tickets ain’t easy. Where ya headed?”

“Just a few towns over. Goin’ to visit family,” you explain, now more relaxed with him. Something about the way he was able to soothe your nerves makes Suguru feel proud.

It also is making him clearly insane, because some sick part of Suguru begins to think he could be your family. If you’ll let him.

“What about you?”

His brows shoot up in surprise. Why would you want to know about him? “Me?”

You nod quickly. “I know you’re…” You lean forward and Suguru mirrors the action as shivers race up his spine when you whisper scandalously, “...an outlaw.”

He leans back, rubbing his chin thoughtfully while he purses his lips together. His gaze is locked onto you because he wonders if you’re up to something. If you’re not as sweet and innocent as you look. But when you lean back and flutter your lashes at him, he begins to doubt it. That sweet face of yours is a rare one to see on this side of the wild west; beautiful and unscarred. You don’t look like you’ve been exposed to anything more dangerous than a thunderstorm. And it’s arousing. The air of innocence that you carry has Suguru shifting in his seat, his pants suddenly feeling tighter.

This is exactly what he’s been wanting. Someone opposite of Manami, someone who is interested in his life, but not involved with crime in the least. As far as he can tell, you’re clean as a whistle. And Suguru likes to think he’s good at reading people.

“Never seen a outlaw before?” He drawls. You shake your head, back to messing around nervously with your dress.

“Never,” you answer softly, batting those pretty, long lashes at him. “Only seen ‘em on signs. Wanted…dead, or alive.”

Oh, you really are sheltered.

“Well, now you’ve seen one in person.” Suguru combs his fingers through his dark tresses, grinning like his criminal status is one to be proud of. To him, he supposes it is. “What d’ya think?”

You do that lip biting thing that Suguru is beginning to realize he finds cute. Maybe it’s a nervous tick, but this time it seems it’s to be you holding back a smile. Everything you do is cute to him. Everything you do is sweet, innocent, arousing.

“I…” You lean forward in your seat again, and whether you realize it or not, it gives Suguru a perfect view of the swell of your breasts. It’s a struggle to keep his focus on your face when your skin looks so smooth, and unmarred, perfect. Those plush lips of yours whisper, “...I think it’s exciting.”

He can only think one thought in this moment.

He wants to ruin you.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s excitin’ about it?” He asks, though he has an idea what it is. The travel, not being tied down to anyone or anything, the freedom this life provides. It’s what they all say when they try to make small talk. “Pretty girl like you can’t possibly know nothin’ about this life.”

You inhale deeply, leaning back in your seat and Suguru watches closely, the way your chest rises and falls with the breath. “Well, I never seen a outlaw in person. Surely never spoke to one. And…” You purse your lips together, like you’re contemplating if you should say the next thing. But you do anyway. “I just never thought a outlaw could be so pretty.”

His eyes widen, the corners of his lips rising with a goofy grin. “Pretty?” He chuckles, combing his fingers through his hair again. “You really think so?”

He’s been called a lot of things, but pretty is not one of them.

“Yep. Look at ya.” You stand, moving quickly to cross the small gap between you both and take a seat next to him. You reach for his arm, then hesitate, pulling back for a second. You peer up at Suguru, silently asking permission and he nods. Your fingers ghost along his forearm, over his bicep, along his neck where his Adam's apple bobs with a gulp, and then your hand is cupping his cheek. Your trail leaves behind a trail of goosebumps.

And Suguru’s pants grow tighter.

Suguru has had his fair share of women and men alike during his time as a felon. But you’re particularly tempting. He’s not sure he’s ever wanted someone as badly as he wants you right now and it’s been all of ten minutes in this train car together. But any minute now, his crew is going to come through those doors and tell him they’re ready to go. And then Suguru will have to leave and the chances of him seeing you ever again are slim to none.

But on the bright side, the chances of him seeing you again are slim to none. It’s a little sudden, but you seem like you want him with the way you’re feeling him up right about now. Maybe you'd let him bury his cock as deep as he can go, fuck you until you’re screaming his name, begging and crying on his cock. Then he’ll fill you with his seed, maybe leave a baby in you to remember him by if you’re lucky and then he’ll grab his spoils with Larue and the rest and go. Then he'll never see you again.

This desert is far and wide. He’d have you today, then never have to face you again for the rest of his life. A woman like you? You'll be just fine. A pretty face and an even prettier smile. Though he thinks you're a bit naive. Have to be to be sitting here chatting with him like he’s some gentleman you met on a leisurely trip to see your relatives. Regardless, there will be some poor fool out there that'll be happy to have you after he's had his way with you.

‘Weren’t you just daydreaming about settling down with this woman?’

“Pretty eyes,” you hum, pulling Suguru from his filthy fantasies. “Nice skin, pretty lips. Just…very pretty.” Your thumb caresses his skin and his eyes can't help but notice the way your gaze is locked to his lips. He pokes his tongue out, watching your eyes widen just slightly at the motion, as he runs the wet muscle along his lips. And he’s right back in his head, thinking of all the ways he could have you.

There’s no mistaking the thick tension filling the room at this moment. Like a lightning bolt hitting the same spot repeatedly. Each stroke of your fingers along his cheek only intensifies the mood. Suguru’s lips curl into a teasing smirk, and yours into one that matches. “Why do I feel like you're trouble?” He says.

Your smile widens, and like a magnet, Suguru finds himself slowly being drawn closer and closer to you. Even as a soft laugh falls from your lips, his mind is wiped clean of all thoughts that don't consist of you.

“Me? That’s funny comin’ from a outlaw like yourself,” you mutter just as you close the distance between you, pressing your lips teasingly to Suguru's. They barely touch, truly a ghost of a touch but Suguru still has to swallow down the moan that damn near bursts from his chest the second your mouth was close enough to his.

You pull away suddenly, covering your lips as you lean away, your eyes wide with worry. “‘m sorry.”

“What are you apologizin’ for?” Suguru asks, scooting closer.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into me…I just…” You’re back to fidgeting with your dress again, and Suguru places a large hand over yours to stop the movement. “You’re a criminal, and I’m just me. I shouldn’t even be talkin’ to you.” You stare up at him with wide eyes, and fuck he wants you.

You look so sweet, so pure looking at him like that. And he feels a little like a piece of shit because while you’re looking at him with probably innocent thoughts floating around in your head, he’s thinking about how he’d love nothing more than to cover your face in his seed.

“I’m not a bad guy,” Suguru lies easily. “Have I done bad things?” He shrugs, because he’s done way too many terrible things to count. Better not to give a real answer to that one. “But I’m enjoyin’ our conversation. The kiss was just a perk. Wouldn’t mind it if it happened again. I’d gladly accept it.”

“But…I don’t even know you…”

‘All the better,’ is what he wants to say, but instead, he tells you, “And that’s fine. Listen–” he squeezes your hand gently. “Best part of bein’ a criminal is that I just do what I want. Don’t gotta ask permission for nothin’.”

Your eyes swim with curiosity. “It’s that easy?”

“Yep. Do what makes ya feel good, sweetheart.”

You still don’t look convinced, and if this next question doesn’t work, Suguru will have no choice but to tie you up and dump you in the other train car with the rest of the hostages. He doesn’t have much time to waste trying to get you just to kiss him.

“Lemme ask ya…did you like kissin’ me?”

He knows he should be worrying about the heist, not some pretty face distracting him from the job. But when you speak again, he tells himself the job can go to hell.

“Yes…but…I got scared. I– I’ve only done some things with a man…” you admit quietly. “And I’m not too good at it.”

Fuck. He has to have you.

“That’s not a problem, sweetheart,” he reassures you, and you beam.

Your hand grasps onto Suguru’s, squeezing tightly. “Really?”

He nods. “I don’t got much time before I gotta leave, but I can show ya some things real quick.”

“You’ll show me? How to do things?” Your voice is eager, so ready. Suguru is finding it hard to contain how much you’re turning him on right now. “Like kissin’ and…y’know other stuff?”

“What kinda stuff?” He asks, because he wants you to say it. Wants to know how far you’re willing to go if you’ve never done a damn thing before. You pinch your lips together, turning your head away shyly. But Suguru gently cups your chin, turning you to look at him again.

“What kinda stuff?” He repeats. “Tell me.”

“Stuff…that makes a man…y’know…”

He grins, tauntingly. “Enlighten me,” he whispers.

“Stuff to make a man…” you worry your lip between your teeth. “...feel good.”

Oh hell.

What type of good deeds has Suguru done to find himself here? With someone as virtuous as you, who is asking him of all people to show you how to please him? He has half a mind to tell you no. He’s got shit to do and his partners are bound to come looking for him any minute. But his cock is screaming within the confines of his pants to get into those undergarments of yours. And there’s no argument to be had here.

He’s listening to his dick.

Suguru crashes his lips to yours, swallowing up the yelp that escapes you from the sudden kiss. “I’ll teach ya whatever ya want, pretty girl.” He groans into your mouth.

He kisses you hard, but slowly, giving you time to catch up. You’re a little slow to pick up, but you get there. Your lips slot against his, fingers slipping into his hair and holding on tight, making Suguru groan into the kiss once more.

“We don’t got a lotta time,” he breathes against you.

You nod, pulling away to look up at him. “What d’ya want?”

You.

He needs you – bent over the passenger seat and holding onto the bar sitting atop it while he fucks you from behind. He needs you sitting on his face, needs your hand around his length. But he’s looking at your face again, so desperate for instruction. Looks at your lips, swollen from the little bit of kissing you’ve been doing. And he knows exactly what he needs in this moment.

“Ever had a cock in your mouth?” He shifts, sitting back against the seat.

You shake your head.

“Ever touched one?”

Another shake of your head.

“What have you done?”

You hum, thinking only for a short time before you answer. “Kissed.”

What fucking luck.

Doesn’t matter what they score off the train today. This is the biggest reward of all.

“Good,” Suguru says, tugging your hand until you stand. With a grin, he guides you to the floor until you’re sitting up on your knees. “There won’t be another man who’s had ya then. I’ll show ya how to please me, make me feel good.”

You nod, and Suguru can’t believe how easy this was as he fumbles with his belt, quickly undoing the buckle. He yanks his pants down, along with his underwear. Only to his knees. He wants to be able to get up quickly if needed. Suguru’s dick sits against his stomach, fat and long, with a harsh red tip that leaks with precum. He peers down at you, your eyes honed in on his length.

“Touch it,” he whispers encouragingly.

Your eyes meet as you move, your hands wrapping around Suguru tenderly, pulling a hiss from him. You hold his length like it’s a foreign object, and he supposes it is to you since it’s the first time you’ve done. Suguru grits his teeth, bringing a hand up to your fist. You’re simply touching him and his dick is throbbing in your grip.

“Move your hand…up ‘n down,” he tells you. “Like this.” He guides you, helping to move your hand in slow and light pumps until you’ve found a rhythm that works. His head falls back as the pleasure takes over. “Ahhh–shit, just like that, pretty girl.”

“It’s so big…” you sigh, licking your lips as you stroke his cock slowly.

From here, Suguru is certain he has a perfect view of you. Eyes wide and curious while you observe every ridge and vein running along his length. It turns him on beyond measure, his hips jerking upward in your grasp.

“Damn,” he moans, fucking himself into your hands. For someone with no experience, you hold his dick just right. He never knew a woman’s touch could feel this good, but you’re a natural talent. You stroke him so good, his mouth falls slack as he lets himself enjoy the feeling of your hands around him. But you surprise him, just as you’ve been doing all this time, his eyes snapping open just in time to watch you lick from the base of his length all the way to the tip, teasing the slit with your tongue and lapping up the bead of precum that sits there.

“It’s salty,” you giggle before you kiss down his shaft, bringing your attention to his balls, kissing and licking the two orbs teasingly. Suguru inhales sharply, eyes rolling to the back of his head as the sensation makes his head swim with pleasure. Especially when your hand wraps around Suguru’s length again, pumping him up and down, slowly as you continue to lap at his balls.

“You’re already so good at this,” Suguru pants heavily.

“I am?”

He can hear the excitement in your voice, so eager to please him. It turns him on knowing that you’re trying so hard to make him feel good. He wonders if you can feel his cock throb in your hands.

“So fucking good,” he praises you, loving the way you hum against him.

“Can I put it in my mouth?” You ask sweetly, squeezing your hands around his cock.

“God, please.”

When you take Suguru into the warmth of your mouth, you hum around him, and the vibrations make him shiver, back arching off of the seat. His palm finds the back of your head, his hips rolling up so he can shove his cock as far as possible without hurting you. He’s gentle at first. You’ve never done this before, after all. He wants to give you the time you need to adjust, though he can’t afford to give you too much. Which seems to be just fine, because just like before, you catch on quickly. You take his cock damn near to the base, and you take it so well, relaxing your throat for him so it’s easy.

“Could fuck this pretty little mouth all day,” Suguru grunts, pumping into you. “So goddamn good.” The sound of his balls slapping against your chin as he fucks your face has his legs trembling, pleasure shooting straight up his spine. He wants to grab your head and push you down further, make you swallow all of him until he blows his load down your throat, then make you swallow that, too. But he doesn’t want to cum just yet.

He craves more from you. He needs more from you.

You hum again, sending another vibration through him as your fingers come up, caressing his balls. And Suguru squeezes his eyes shut, trying so hard not to cum. “Ah– shit, shit!” He pushes at your shoulders, forcing you off of him with a loud and wet pop. You look rather pleased with yourself, smiling when you see his red cheeks and the way he rapidly tries to catch his breath.

Like he noted before. You’re trouble.

“Fuck, you’re fuckin’ perfect,” he gasps, staring at your chin dripping with saliva and his juices. Suguru watches through hooded eyes as you swipe it away. He could watch you on your knees all day, taking his cock down your throat time and time again. But unfortunately, time is not on his side today. He needs to hurry it up.

“C’mere, pretty,” he calls for you, taking your hand. You stand, waiting for your next instruction as Suguru leans forward in his seat. His hands find your waist, pulling you close enough that he can press a kiss to your stomach before he leans back again. “Pull up your skirt for me.”

“Okay…” you agree, shakily. You reach for the hem of your skirt, pulling the layers of fabric as high as it’ll go. Suguru always hated these damn dresses. It’s like digging for gold trying to get through every damn piece of clothing. But eventually, you get to the end, revealing your bare thighs to him. Soft, plush, beautiful. But what he’s truly interested in remains concealed by your underwear.

Suguru swallows hard before he drags his finger along your clothed pussy, grinning when your thighs tremble just barely. His gaze glides back up your form until they rest on your face, watching as your mouth falls open with a silent moan.

Hard to believe you’ve never been touched here. Also, so very arousing to think you’ve never been touched here. He thanks his lucky stars that you’re allowing him to be the first.

He slips his finger into the fabric, his slender fingers quickly finding your slit and sliding along your folds. He sucks in a sharp breath when he feels how soaked you are. He briefly brushes a finger against your entrance, pausing when he feels you tense up.

“Might hurt a little,” he warns as softly as he can manage right now. But you whisper, “go ahead”, hands coming to rest on his shoulders as he dips his finger into your pussy, biting back a moan when he feels your soft walls clench down on his hand. It’s tight, as expected but he moves slowly, pulling back every so often to work his way further.

You whimper above him, squeezing his shoulders as your breaths come rapidly while Suguru pumps his finger in and out of your hole. Your bottom lip sits between your teeth, and your brows are knitted together.

You’re enjoying this.

And he’s enjoying watching you.

Suguru presses his thumb to your clit, slowly circling the sensitive nub. Dark eyes lock with yours as his other hand finds the top of your dress where he hooks his fingers into the cups and pulls it down. Your breasts spill out of the fabric and your breath hitches when the air caresses your nipples. Suguru kneads the soft flesh, his thumb swiping across one of the hardened buds.

“Ahhh, yes,” you moan, your voice barely above a whisper. Your head falls back with a loud gasp as Suguru slips another finger into you.

“Bein’ real good for me,” he coos. His dick grows painfully harder as he slowly thrusts his fingers inside of you, while his thumb stimulates your clit. He’s panting trying to hold himself together while he preps you for what he wants next. Your hips move on their own, riding Suguru’s hand, chasing your high.

“Feel good?” He grunts, fingers slipping into you over and over, curling inside, and hitting your sweet spot and you can’t help but to gasp quietly each time Suguru touches it.

“Y-yes, feels incredible,” you whine.

Suguru’s eyes are locked on your center where he watches his fingers disappear into your cunt over and over, your slick coating his hand more with each thrust. It only adds to Suguru’s struggle to keep it together as he ignores the pulsing need of his cock. Your pleasured moans and the squelching sound of your dripping pussy fill the space of the train car.

“I’m–” you breathe harshly against him and he feels your walls squeeze down on his digits. You’re close already.

“Gonna cum, sweetheart?” Suguru’s fingers dip into you faster. His eyes linger on your face as his thumb rubs tight circles on the sensitive bud between your legs. Your eyes flutter closed, mouth hanging open as a delicious moan rushes past your lips, your grip on Suguru’s shoulders tightening so much it stings. But he loves it, loves feeling your pussy squeezing down on his fingers, sucking them deeper as your release crashes over you until he can feel your cum dripping down his fingers and into his palm as he keeps pumping into you.

Suguru sighs as he stares at his fingers, slowly pulling them from you. He licks his lips, admiring his slick covered hand.

He’s never taken the time to just enjoy the moment with anyone. Never cared much to please a woman. It’s easier for him to just get himself off and high tail it out of there. No attachment to these ladies, no reason to stick around. But what is it about you that makes him want to see all the ways your body is capable of falling apart? Because it’s a beautiful sight to behold.

“Outlaw…” you murmur, slipping your undergarments down your legs until you’re able to kick them off. You push Suguru back by the shoulders, lifting your skirt so that you can easily maneuver into his lap. His hands find your hips beneath your dress as you straddle him, and his thumbs caress the soft skin gently.

“Yeah, beautiful?”

So beautiful. He can’t stop staring at you and your eyes, glazed over with desire. You lean forward, the heat from between your legs making Suguru’s length twitch. It lightly taps your core and you gasp. Your hands clutch onto the bar that runs along the top of the train seat, one on each side of his head. Suguru’s palms glide around to your backside, squeezing the flesh of your ass. You brush your nose against his, soft breaths mingling with his as you whisper, “make love to me, outlaw…” just before your lips touch.

And Suguru’s groaning into your mouth, because this kiss is different. It’s hungry, hot, full of want and need. It’s sloppy and rushed, because you’re both aware of the time crunch you’re in. It’s intoxicating, addicting, the way he never wants to stop kissing you. To hell with the heist.

“Ready for me, pretty girl?” Suguru pants, a hand gripping his cock. He can feel the heat of your pussy radiating off of you and it makes him all the more eager to have you.

Your eyes are wide, filled with something Suguru thinks may be excitement. He’s not sure he sees any hesitation or fear behind your eyes. You want him badly, it’s clear as day. He wants you just as badly, if not more. So he positions himself at your entrance, nudging your hole gently with his tip.

A small whimper slips past your lips, and Suguru kisses you sweetly. “It’s only gonna hurt for a second,” he coos. “Promise…”

He kisses you again, muttering, “I’m pushin’ in…” against your lips.

You close your eyes, teeth digging into your bottom lip as Suguru rolls his hips forward, slowly sinking his tip into your pussy, only stopping when you let out a harsh breath.

“‘S a tight fit,” he murmurs through gritted teeth. An understatement. Your pussy is gripping him with so much force, he’s struggling to breathe. You’re holding him hostage within your walls and the feeling has him tightening his hold on your ass. “You alright?”

Because he wants to make sure it feels good for you, too. Your pleasure is his. Which is a whole new feeling for him in and of itself. He’s aware of how the tables have turned. What started as him wanting to show you ways to please him, turned into him desperate to please you. But he likes it that way.

You nod, moaning quietly when Suguru keeps moving forward. “Ohhh…”

“God, this pussy is so fuckin’ –” he can’t even finish his sentence. He needs to focus all his attention on not cumming already.

You take him all the way to the base, moaning loudly when you fully sink onto him. Your grip tightens around the bar, steadying yourself as Suguru lifts you by your ass before pulling you back down on him, so slowly. “Fuuuck–” he groans. He thrusts into you at a leisurely pace, slow and controlled, giving you time to adjust to his size.

But his kisses…they’re rough. Such a contrast to the way he’s fucking you right now. The pleasure is overwhelming to Suguru, and when your tongue slips into his mouth, it’s him that’s whimpering now, thrusting just a little faster, a little harder.

“Damn, you take my cock so good, pretty girl–” he growls into your mouth. “Love the way you ride me.” He smacks your ass hard, eyes falling to your breast, bouncing up and down with the rhythm of his thrusts. He takes one into his mouth, greedily lapping at your nipple, nipping and sucking and loving the way your cries get louder.

“Oh my god, fuck!”

“Ride my cock, pretty. You already do it so good. Wanna see you ride me.” Suguru groans. He releases his hold on you, hands coming up to play with your breasts while you bounce wildly on his dick. He lifts your dress, relishing the view of his length, glistening with your slick, vanishes into your tight cunt over and over. “Shiiiitttt…”

You slip a hand into his tresses, pulling hard and forcing him away from your nipples. You pull so hard Suguru has to close his eyes because the sensation sends goosebumps igniting across his body. That, combined with the way you keep taking him to the tip before slamming down on his cock repeatedly. Fuck, you’re a quick learner.

Your pussy is what it feels like every single time he pulls off a heist successfully. Like fucking heaven. And he never wants to leave it.

His eyes flutter open, just enough to see your breasts bouncing with every rise and fall of your hips. Your velvety walls hug him tight, so fucking good, Suguru thinks he'd like to be able to have you all the time. Hell, he has half a mind to take you with him once they’re off this damned train. Being able to have you like this any time he wants, watch your body come undone under him, on top of him, in any position you’ll let him have you. He’d even give up this outlaw life if you wanted him to. Settle down, start a family if that’s what you wanted. The thought of it makes Suguru more excited than he’ll ever admit.

Each time your pussy sucks him back in, begging for him to cum, he can suddenly picture a life outside of this. Each time those sexy little noises fall from your sweet lips, he can suddenly envision raising a family with you, building himself a life where he's able to hear those sounds any time he desires.

He lets his mind drift to these fantasies while he can, enjoying the feeling of you and the sounds you gift him with.

There's a fire pooling in his belly, growing hotter each time his balls meet your ass. He's gonna blow his load here any second. And he can't wait. He wants to cum inside your walls, wants to thrust himself so deep into you that there's no way you're not carrying his child when he's done. Least you'll have something to remember him by if you tell him you don’t want shit to do with him after this. A sweet woman like you with a wanted felon? Of course you’d prefer to get your rocks off while you can and move on. Which is fine.

Because Suguru is gonna remember you, anyway. He’ll remember the way you squeeze around him, the way you moan the little nickname you’ve given him, the way your cunt feels fucking unlike any other woman’s. You’ve got him mesmerized.

So much so, that he doesn't even notice the cool press of steel against the center of his forehead.

“Ohhh,” you moan, whimpering, “Please…please…will you put a baby inside me, outlaw?”

It’s like you read his mind, and Suguru’s eyes snap open, balls tightening as his release threatens to come at any moment. But then his eyes see the stiffness in your arm, see the glimmer of metal as the sunlight reflects off it through the windows, and he finally realizes you've got his gun to his head, and maybe that’s actually why his balls are tightening. You’ve got this wicked grin on your flushed face as you keep riding him. Hard, fast, walls squeezing him in a vice grip. And he can't do shit but let his eyes roll to the back of his head, let his pleasure race straight down his spine and into his balls as his release shoots from his cock before he has a chance to get ahold of himself.

But you don’t let him get a drop inside, lifting yourself smoothly off his lap just as fat, hot streams of cum land messily in his lap and on his stomach. Suguru’s gasping for air, still struggling to figure out what the fuck is going on. And you don’t give him a second to catch his breath, to let his mind catch up before you’re wrapping your hand around his cock again, squeezing and stroking his length until he’s so overstimulated his jaw is cramping up from how hard he’s gritting his teeth to keep from crying out.

“What the fuck are you ahhh–” you run your thumb over his leaking tip, your eyes alight with joy when his hips buck up automatically, legs trembling as you keep pumping him, though his balls are beyond empty.

You tsk, shaking your head as you press the barrel of the gun harder against his skin. “Where’s that sweet outlaw from before?” You drawl.

Your voice has changed. No longer soft spoken, shy and sweet. The hardness of your tone tells Suguru all he needs to know. The memories come flooding back. And now he realizes why you looked so familiar when he first laid eyes on you.

Your face has been plastered on wanted posters in damn near every town he and his partners have stopped in. Murder, robbery, drunkenness, prison escape, cheating at cards. All the crimes that should have you in the town square hanging, you’re wanted for. Somehow, you’ve managed to never get caught.

How could he have let his guard down? How could he have fucked up this badly?

‘Thinking with your dick. That’s how.’

“Guess it takes an outlaw to know one,” He grits out, nostrils flared with fury. He can only hope his crew comes through those doors soon, though it’ll be fucking humiliating to be caught in this position.

A giggle spills from your lips and the sound makes Suguru sick to his stomach. You don’t even sound like the same person from before. “Y’all are pretty easy to spot. ‘Specially when all y’all think with your cocks–” You echo his thoughts, emphasizing the word by squeezing Suguru’s slowly softening length in your hand. You frown, releasing your hold on him. “Huh, thought you’d be able to gimme another one.”

He inhales deeply, shakily, narrowing his eyes at the woman – the stranger – that stands before him. “Everything you said was a lie, then.”

It’s not a question. He knows. Because you’re just like him. Maybe even worse.

Laughter bursts from deep within, like what he said was the funniest thing you’ve ever heard. “It really is easy to fool y’all men. Just gotta make our pussies feel reallllll tight and wet and y’all don’t question nothin’.”

You climb off of the seat, taking the gun off his head while you fix your undergarments, unbothered and careless. And Suguru decides to act fast, takes this moment to lunge for you. But he doesn’t make it far, because his head is yanked back roughly the moment he jumps forward. His scalp burns, and he reaches back, feeling a thick knot tied around the metal bar that sits atop the train seats. The same metal bar you were just holding onto moments ago.

“You fuckin’ tied my hair to the seat?!” He growls.

And you chuckle, shifting your dress around until you’re decent again. The gun is pointed back at Suguru’s face, and he puts his hands back down, not daring to try and free himself when you’ve got a revolver ready to blow his brains out.

“And your hands are next,” you promise in a sing-song voice. You keep your word, spinning around briefly to reach between the wall and your original seat, where you’d apparently hidden a small rope. You make quick work of tying Suguru’s hands behind his back, leaning a little too close to him as you finish the knot.

He can feel your breaths against his neck, and right now, if he’s being honest with himself – which he may as well be since he could very well be dead soon – it’s confusing him. Because he feels like he fucking hates you, is repulsed by you, could spit in your face right now. Oh, he really fucking wants to. But something tells him you’d like that anyway. And the thought of your face, depraved and covered in his saliva is making his still exposed length hard again. Even when you tug harshly on the rope for good measure, chuckling low in Suguru’s ear when you hear him hiss in pain, his cock stiffens further.

And of course you notice, your eyes glancing down to his lap, where the sticky mess you left him with lies. “Sure you don’t wanna go again?” You tease, laughing when Suguru scowls.

You like him upset, and probably a little pathetic, because you press your lips to his pout, kissing him hungrily. And apparently, Suguru is as pathetic as he looks, because – and it’s a surprise to him, too – he kisses you back! Your tongues tangle during this brief meeting of your lips, fighting for dominance, though it’s apparent who’s the one in control here.

The filthy moans between you are interrupted when Suguru feels that damned gun under his chin now, applying enough pressure to push him back. Only a line of your mixed saliva connects you two as you stare down at him in amusement.

“Like I said…” you peer down quickly at Suguru’s lap before whispering. “Aaaalways thinkin’ with your cock.” You step back, pointing the gun at him once again.

“What do ya want?” He asks, pulling at his restraints to no avail. He’d love nothing more than to wipe that cocky smile off your face and flip the tables on you, but it’s not looking good for him.

“What I want…” You wiggle the gun in his face, tauntingly. “...is already mine, outlaw.” There’s humor in your tone, and your body language is relaxed. You couldn’t see Suguru as less of a threat if you tried.

You piss him off.

And make him so fucking hard.

He’s confused!

The noise of the doors to the train cabin opening can be heard and Suguru grins. You’re fucked now. Larue is going to put a bullet between your eyes and sure, Suguru’ll be sad about it. But better you than him. You were a great fuck, he’ll admit. And yes, he entertained the idea of giving you a kid or two, maybe getting a little cabin out in the prairie. But that fantasy’s as dead as you’re about to be. Sad that he won’t be–

“The guy with the nipples and the girl have been taken care of, boss!” A chipper voice sings.

That…is not Larue.

Suguru couldn’t turn his head if he tried, courtesy of this goddamn knot, but he can see the smirk on your face as you nod. “Great work, Hime. And the goods?”

“Already on the move with the others. Just gotta get on the horses when you’re ready.”

You turn your head, staring out the window and nodding again. Out of his peripheral, Suguru can just barely make out the form of two horses, racing alongside the train and he knows he’s screwed.

You sigh, shrugging while feigning sadness as you pout. “Well, outlaw…looks like this is the end of the line.”

Suguru tugs at his ropes again, struggling against the holds. “You gonna leave me here like this?” He gestures with his chin at his…situation. You must be forgetting his entire dick is out for the world to see. And that you’ve tied his hands up. Not to mention his fucking hair! If he has to cut his hair because of this…

You hum, like you’re actually giving deep thought to his question. You’re not.

“Yeah, actually. Think I am.” You lift your dress, not even pretending to be as innocent as you presented yourself to be when Suguru first laid eyes on you. You tuck his gun into the waistband of your undergarments, patting it affectionately. “Thanks for a grand ol’ time, outlaw. If you manage to survive this, we can do it again.”

You shoot him a wink before you lean over him, leaving him with one final kiss on the lips. It’s gentle this time, soft, save for a light nip to his bottom lip that embarrassingly enough, manages to arouse Suguru yet again.

“At least tell me your name,” Suguru grits out through heavy breaths. “So I can be sure to repay the favor.”

It’s a threat, but you don’t take it as one. You simply smile. It’s warm, almost reminiscent of the woman he met just earlier. The woman he thought you were. But that look is gone as soon as it appeared. You pat his face gently, reaching across the seat to grab his hat that he had set aside when he’d first sat down. You sit it atop your head, wearing it like some sort of crown, and without another word, you leave.

The train cars open, the roaring rush of the wind filling the space for just a moment before they’re shut again, and Suguru is left with nothing but his thoughts and his dick literally out. He leans his head back against the seat, closing his eyes to calm his racing heart and honestly to stifle the pain of his untouched erection.

This has been the wildest ride of his life. Definitely the worst heist he’s ever done. And if he does survive this, does manage to somehow talk his way out of charges and prison time, he’s going to find you. Fuck the robberies. Fuck the brothels. Fuck gambling and drinking all day. Yeah, if he manages to survive this, he will make it his life’s mission to find you again.

Because even after all is said and done, Suguru thinks he might fucking love you.

1K notes · View notes

hischierhoney · 7 months ago

Text

Just Friends

Jack Hughes x Best Friend!Reader

summary: You’ve been best friends with Jack for ages. He’s also been in love with you for ages, but he’s got that completely under control. Really, he does. Right? 5.2k words

warnings: alcohol/intoxication, non graphic mentions of surgery/blood/stitches, hospital stay, reference to Jack’s shoulder surgery :(

Jack finds you in his apartment kitchen, a black tie in his hand. He’s already dressed in his suit pants and shirt, and for once, he feels like hair looks almost presentable. You take the tie from him without a word, and you loop it around his neck, underneath the collar of his shirt. Meanwhile, he grabs your necklace off the counter and fiddles with the clasp.

You hum to yourself as you start to tie the tie. “Ready for the game today?”

He shrugs. “I’m always ready.”

Luke is there, too, shoveling cereal into his mouth and watching the two of you warily. As you loop the tie around your fingers, Jack slips the necklace around your neck, your skin soft under his fingers. He latches it, blindly, with expert precision, muscle memory. He’s done it a million times now.

You tug the tie into place and then smooth it out on his chest. He hasn’t put his jacket on yet, but you’ll fix the lapels of it, too. You take a half a step back and give him a once over. He stands, waiting for your approval with his breath held in his chest. It shouldn’t mean this much, you making sure he looks good, but it does. You reach up and tuck a lock of hair back into place atop his head, and he smiles happily.

“All good,” you say, dusting your hands together as if you’ve just finished a hard day’s work.

Jack squints at your face, spotting something, and he brings a finger up to brush against your cheekbone. “Eyelash,” he explains, and you hum, closing your eyes as he brushes it away. “Got it.”

“Thanks,” you murmur. “Come on, don’t wanna be late. And no cereal in the car, Luke.”

Jack rushes off to grab his jacket. When he comes back, Luke is dumping the last of his cereal into the sink, and Jack grimaces. You’re in the hallway, stepping into a pair of shoes. Luke turns to him with a smirk, and Jack shakes his head before his brother can even open his mouth.

“Don’t,” he whispers.

Luke rolls his eyes. “I just think you guys are-“

“You thinking is dangerous,” Jack says. “Save all that energy for the game.”

He walks away, down the hallway to find you. You reach up to fix his jacket for him, and then you reach for the car keys and hand them off to him. He grins and nudges his elbow against your side.

“You’re such a passenger princess,” he teases.

You shrug. “I’m very good at it!”

He’s not complaining, really. There’s nobody he’d rather see in his passenger seat than you. Your jersey hangs proudly from your shoulders, his name and number on the back, and it makes his chest feel warm. You’re his good luck charm. He just hasn’t told you that yet.

…..

Jack’s spent so much time convincing his brothers and his teammates and his parents that he’s not in love with you, that he can’t pinpoint when it actually happened. He’s not sure there was some big moment, some realization, some day where he looked at you and everything changed. You’ve just been so present in his life that maybe it was a sort of gradual thing. Maybe it’s always been there, and he’s been in denial since he was eleven and Quinn was teasing him on the playground near their house.

Now you’re in New York, closer than you have been in years, both distance wise and friendship wise. You have season tickets, because he’s playing in the NHL and he wants you at every game possible. You spend half your nights at his place when he’s home, and he ignores the funny looks Luke gives him about it. Honestly, he’s a bit tired of denying it all. He thinks maybe if someone just asked point blank he’d let it all spill out.

He reads the text from you and smiles- you’re on your way to the Rock, one of your friends in tow. He’d gotten you two seats for the season, so you wouldn’t have to sit alone. He sort of dreads the day you decide to bring a date, but then he wonders what guy would be stupid enough to go along with that. Jack’s cocky, he’ll admit it. He knows he’s good at hockey. He laughs at the thought of you dragging a date along to see him play.

Someone announces they’re ordering food before the game, from the deli down the street. Jack listens as his teammates put in their orders. Luke goes with his usual. Timo changes things up. When the assistant gets to him, he grins. He orders his go to, and then another, and asks for a can of Coke, too, for good measure. Luke gives a knowing roll of his eyes.

When the guy brings the food in, Jack takes his bag, fishes his sandwich out of it, and hands the other sandwich and the can of Coke back. “Can you get this to seat B322?” He asks, grinning widely. He knows your seat number by heart.

Luke sighs heavily next to him. The guy agrees, of course. Nico, who’s standing nearby, cocks his head in confusion.

“She’s coming straight from work,” Jack defends. The ribbing he gets from the guys will be worth it when he sees you after the game. “She’s gonna be hungry.”

“It’s a hockey arena,” Luke says drily. “There’s so much food here.”

“But she loves Krauszer’s,” Jack says, and Nico rolls his eyes. “What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t order her some?”

“Friend,” Nico says, drawing out the word. “Sure.”

Jack ignores him. He ignores Luke’s smirk, too. He eats his sandwich and finishes getting ready, and then he heads out onto the ice, knowing you’re there somewhere, probably sipping on a can of Coke.

…..

The issue, Jack finds, is that it’s getting harder to ignore the fact that he’s in love with you.

It was easier, before, when you were younger and he was more dumb and less aware of… everything. He could convince himself it was just puppy love, just absence making the heart grow fonder, when post high school saw the two of you split apart. But now you’re here, close, and yet not close enough. Jack wants more, and he can’t really ignore that feeling these days.

He’s out at a bar, team bonding, as Nico put it. Except that half the team is drunk, including Nico, and the only bonding Jack’s doing is the brotherly kind, trying to keep Luke from sneaking drinks, or worse, getting caught sneaking drinks. Sometimes he hates being an older brother. He’d wanted to come out, maybe talk to a girl, maybe take said girl home, or get her to take him back to her place so he wouldn’t have to worry about Luke overhearing. But it’s not really working, not with Nico hanging off his shoulder like a leech and Luke sneaking another shot, and god, Jack’s going to kill him. If you were here, you’d be keeping an eye on Luke, too. He wishes you were here.

He has a shot to take the edge of the annoyance off. Then he has another, and another, and then there’s a girl across the bar, smiling at him, and- she sort of looks like you, is the thing, but not quite. The sort of uncanny valley of it all is freaking him out. For a moment he wonders if hooking up with her would make it better- would get it out of his system, would scratch the itch. The sane, more sober part of him thinks it might just make it all worse. To have some girl under him and hear a voice that isn’t yours. Jack used to do this all the time. The thought of it makes him feel sick now. That’s new.

He downs another shot and passes his leech of a captain off on his problem of a brother, hoping the two of them will keep each other in line. Then he pulls his phone from his pocket and gets an Uber.

It’s only when he’s standing at your apartment door that he realizes he probably should’ve called first. You might already be asleep. You might be out. Maybe you have a guy over. His stomach does a somersault at the thought. He raises his hand to knock anyways- he’s come all this way.

You open the door with a smile on your face. “Nico called to ask if I knew where you went. Thought you might be headed here.”

Jack lets his shoulders drop. “They were annoying me.”

That’s not the real reason he left, but he can’t exactly tell you he saw the uncanny valley version of you and decided to leave. That would be… a lot. You seem to take his answer as the truth, because Luke is annoying on a night out, and Nico can be, too. Jack still probably should’ve told them he was leaving. He’ll get an earful about it. Oh well. The way you step aside to let him into your apartment makes it worth it.

He heads for the couch, and you laugh when he flops onto it, facedown. He likes your laugh. It sounds so much like you. He remembers the years when you were in college and he was far, far away from you, when he’d crack jokes on the phone calls just to hear you giggle. He presses his face into a pillow and hopes you don’t see the blush on his cheeks, or that you’ll attribute it to his drunkenness.

“Want food?” You call out, from the kitchen, he thinks. He groans loudly in response. “I have mozz sticks.”

He turns his head to the side and says, “fuck, I love you.”

He can say it here, in the comfort and privacy of your living room, in the relative safeness of the fact that he’s been drinking. You won’t think anything of it. You won’t realize how much he really means it.

The sound of your laugh is music to his ears. “Love you too, Rowdy.”

You don’t mean it the way he wants you to. That’s okay. He came to terms with that a while ago, listening to you say it over staticky phone calls. But you’ll make him mozzarella sticks, and you’re not upset that he’s here, so he’ll take it. He’ll take anything, really.

You come into the living room a few minutes later, plate full of food in hand, and make him roll over. He sits up slightly, leaning against the arm of the couch, and you lift his legs to sit under them. He doesn’t complain when you turn on some stupid reality tv show he hates- there are mozzarella sticks for him to eat, and the warmth of you under him, the weight of your arm where it’s draped across his calves. He can put up with the host’s annoying voice for this.

He falls asleep on your couch, half a mozz stick in his hand. When he wakes up, he’s tucked in with the quilt you’ve had for years now, a pillow under his head, and water waiting for him on the coffee table. You’re probably at work by now. He’ll send you a text to say thank you, later, unless he decides to just wait here until you come home. That doesn’t sound like such a bad idea, really.

…..

It’s a Saturday, and Luke is out for lunch with some of the other younger players, so Jack’s fending for himself. Trevor, knowing this due to what he would call their cosmic connection, has seen it as an opportunity to talk Jack’s ear off over FaceTime. Jack has his phone propped on the kitchen counter, half listening as he cooks.

He loves Trevor- really, he does, but the guy could talk for hours upon hours and never run out of things to say. Jack lets him, because he knows Trevor likes talking, so he’s not going to be mean. He just chimes in with noises of agreement or disagreement at the right times. Then Trevor says your name, and he zones back in.

“I fucking knew you weren’t listening!” Trevor cackles, wide grin taking up most of the phone screen. “But the second I mention-“

“Shut up,” Jack groans, rolling his eyes. “I’m listening. I’m just also making lunch.”

“Right, right,” Trevor snarks. “Just for you?”

Jack knows what he’s insinuating. Honestly, as much as he hates to admit it, it’s not a bad idea. You’re not working today, and he could probably convince you to come hang out with him in exchange for free food. He’s bored enough to listen to Trevor go on and on. You could save him from it.

“Yeah,” he says, and immediately contradicts himself by picking up his phone and sending you a text.

He tries to listen this time, he really does. He cares about Trevor, he wants to hear what he has to say. He finishes cooking lunch, and then Trevor has to go, shouting something to someone in the background, and he hangs up. Jack sighs at the empty, quiet room. He thinks about texting Luke to see when he’ll be back, but that feels pathetic. Maybe Nico’s not busy.

His heart leaps when his phone buzzes with a text from you.

Lunch sounds good. I’ll be over soon.

He can’t wipe the grin off his face the whole rest of the day. You come over, and eat the rest of the food happily, sitting at the kitchen counter. He watches fondly and tells you all the drama Trevor just told him- screw you, Zegras, he was listening. You smile brightly up at him.

“Got plans for the rest of the day?” He asks, hoping desperately that you don’t.

You shrug. “Nope. I’m all yours.”

God, he wishes.

…..

Jack thinks that maybe, just maybe, he can’t really be blamed when it all comes crashing down on a Wednesday afternoon in April. It’s been coming for a while. He’s had time to prepare. It shouldn’t take him out the way it does, because he’s seen it coming from miles away. It shouldn’t, but it does anyways.

They pull him from the games and finally, finally, ship him off to Colorado to have surgery. He gets an email with the flight information, another with a hotel to stay in the night before, and instructions on how to book his flight back to Jersey after he’s released. They don’t want to book it now, for fear of something going wrong in surgery. Hockey teams are superstitious like that, even their travel management.

There’s another set of emails, too- ones from the surgeon, about his prep and things he needs to do and bring and what to expect from the healing process. He hasn’t bothered to open it. That’ll make it real. He just packs up some of his clothes, shuts himself in his room, and waits. He ignores Luke, then he ignores Nico, who he’s sure Luke has brought over. He ignores Quinn’s phone calls, too, and everyone else’s.

When you show up, though, knocking on his bedroom door and calling out his name, he can’t ignore it. He makes a noise that isn’t a go away, and you take it as an invitation in, which he supposes it was. You make a soft noise of disapproval when you see him, curled up in his bed, hood pulled up around his head to block out the world.

“Hey, J,” you murmur, padding your way across his bedroom. “What’s going on?”

He sniffles and presses his face into the mattress. “The surgery.”

You sigh and sit down on the edge of his bed. “Yeah.”

Jack’s not afraid of having surgery, really. He’s never been very squeamish, never one to shy away from blood draws or stitches or IVs. You know this. Everyone knows it, which is probably why they’re all so worried about his reaction to this. He doesn’t want to admit it really, but it’s you, so he finds the words slipping past his lips.

“Mom can’t come,” he says, voice raw and scraping. “Or dad. Too short notice. And- and Luke and Nico and Quinn are gonna be busy, obviously, and I just… all this talk about surgery all this time and I didn’t think I’d have to do it alone, you know? It couldn’t wait till after the season so I could-“

He breaks off into an embarrassing, breath stealing sob. You make a soothing little noise and lean down next to him, scooping him up into your arms. It sort of helps and sort of makes it worse. The tears flow freely now. It’s just you. All his walls are down.

“You won’t be by yourself, Jack,” you murmur, and he waits for the reassuring words, that you’ll all be with him in spirit, that he’ll be home in no time, that he’s never alone. Instead, you say, “I took some time off. I’m gonna fly out with you, be there for the surgery.”

He pries one eye open, waiting for the punch line. There isn’t one. Just you, watching him carefully, holding him close. He knows how hard it is for you to get time off right now. It’s your busy season at work. And yet, here you are. Tears start running again. The whole world goes blurry. You just brush them away, one by one.

“Oh, honey,” you soothe, voice low and soft. “You didn’t think I’d let you do it alone, did you?”

God, he loves you. And he thinks this might be the final straw, the last puzzle piece. There’s no denying it now. You brush stray hairs from his face and press warm kisses to his forehead while he admits that he’s scared, not of the surgery but of what comes after, of the healing and the rehab and everything involved in it. You draw soothing patterns on his skin and just listen, because you know him well enough to know he needs to get it off his chest. He thinks about telling you how much he loves you as he starts to drift off, but he thinks better of it. There’ll be a better time than this, tear stained and curled up in his bed like a little kid. For now, it’s enough to know you love him, in any way, shape, or form.

…..

Jack wakes up in a hospital bed in Vail, Colorado, utterly disoriented and freezing cold. The ceiling is this ugly grey color, just like the rest of the ceilings in the building have been. He’s spent a lot of time staring at them in the last 24 hours. He blinks, and the tiles blur and swirl, and he hears his name in your voice. He tries to hold on, but he’s so, so sleepy, so he closes his eyes.

He wakes up again with no idea how long he’s been out. He’s warmer now. There’s an extra blanket laid over him, and a hand holding his. Hm. It feels nice. He squeezes his fingers experimentally. He hears movement to his left. A plastic cup appears in his field of vision, and he suddenly realizes how thirsty he is. He turns, slightly, and finds you.

“You’re here,” he says, quietly.

Your face is a little out of focus, but he thinks you smile. “Yeah, of course I am. Told you I would be.”

He knows that. He knows you flew out here with him, eating snacks on the plane before he hit the 12 hours before surgery mark and he had to stop. You checked into the hotel with him, got all the supplies ready for after the surgery, got him here, promised you’d be waiting when he woke up. But now he’s here, post surgery, and you’re holding his hand, and his chest hurts in the best way.

“Hey, hey, don’t cry,” you murmur, lifting the cup to his lips. He takes a sip. “Does it hurt?”

He shakes his head gingerly. He’s a little achy, but nothing that would make him cry normally. He can’t help it, it’s probably the meds. He remembers crying when he got his wisdom teeth out, too. He tries to tell you as much, but it comes out garbled and teary and raw. You shush him, smoothing your hand over his forehead and pushing his hair out of his face. That feels nice. You’re warm.

“Okay. It’s okay,” you soothe. “Take a breath. It’s alright.”

He does his best. You help him take little sips of water, and eventually the tears dry up. He’s left sitting there, your hand running through his hair, and he suddenly feels so, so sleepy. He turns his head and blinks at you. You’re clear in his vision now, beautiful as ever.

“You’re pretty,” he mumbles.

He thinks it all the time, he may as well say it. Nothing’s holding him back now. You laugh, and your face gets blurry again. He sighs.

“You’re pretty,” you say back.

He rolls his eyes, but he smiles anyways. “Hmm.”

“Are you sleepy?” You ask, thumb brushing against his temple. He nods. “You can go to sleep, okay?”

“You’ll be here when I wake up?” He asks, feeling a little vulnerable, suddenly.

“Yeah, Jacky,” you murmur, and when he closes his eyes, he thinks he feels your lips against his temple. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The third time he wakes up, you’re sitting next to him, eating ice cream out of a little plastic cup with one of the tiny wooden spoons. The tv in the room is playing that same stupid reality show. The host’s voice would piss him off if he wasn’t so focused on how adorable you look. He inches the fingers of his good hand towards you, towards where your knee is pressed against his bed. When he makes contact, you jump nearly a foot in the air. He can’t help but giggle.

“Jesus,” you mutter, shaking your head at him.

“Nah, just Jack,” he teases.

You roll your eyes. “Someone’s feeling better.”

If he’s being honest, he still feels a little loopy. Your face is in focus, but everything feels a little softer around the edges. His fingers scramble against your knee, and you laugh, leaning close. You set down the ice cream and reach to tangle your hand up in his. That’s nice. He doesn’t get to do that a lot- hold your hand. Maybe he should have surgery more often. You smooth his hair out of his face again. It’s such a caring motion that it sends his heart stuttering.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he says, quietly.

You shrug. “What kind of best friend would I be if I wasn’t?”

And. That’s nice, but it’s not really what he wants to hear. He wants you to be here because you love him. He probably wouldn’t spend hours in a hospital waiting room for Nico, probably wouldn’t sit and wait for him to wake up. He’d bring him food after, when he got home, would help him however he needed. But to fly halfway across the country just to be here? He’d do that for you in a heartbeat, but he’s not sure there are many others he’d do the same for.

You seem to notice the way he’s staring, and you wave the wooden spoon at him. “You want some ice cream? The nurse said to call when you actually woke up. I’m sure she’ll give you one if you turn on the charm.”

He blinks slowly. “I love you, you know that?”

It’s past his lips before he can take it back. It should be terrifying. He should feel sick to his stomach. Maybe it’s the hospital drugs, or maybe it’s just that he’s been holding it in for so long, but it doesn’t feel scary. He sort of just feels relieved.

You smile brightly. “Yeah, I love you, too, Jack.”

He huffs. “No, you don’t get it-“

Before he can get another word out, the nurse comes in. He wonders if you pressed the button when he wasn’t paying attention, or if hospital staff just have comically bad timing. He lets out a groan. You give him an amused smile.

“Welcome back, Jack,” the nurse says. He reads her nametag- Nancy. “I’m just going to do a little checkup, alright?” She turns to you. “If you want, you can step out into the hall.”

By the time he’s squeezing your hand to keep you there, you’re holding onto him tightly, too. Huh. That’s interesting.

“She can stay,” Jack says.

You nod. So does Nancy, a knowing smile on her lips. Jack wonders if she sees this a lot. Guys with friends who sit by their bed, oblivious to the fact that said guy is hopelessly in love with them. Maybe it’s a common thing in hospitals. Maybe it’s not just Jack. That’s a nice thought.

He gets his blood pressure taken, and his pulse, and he gets asked to take a few deep breaths for what seems to be just the fun of it. She asks his pain level- a 3, at which point you break in and tell the nurse that his three is more like a five. She smiles at the two of you. When she goes to leave, Jack speaks up.

“Could I have some ice cream?” He asks, hoping the way his voice cracks on the words makes her sympathetic.

Ice cream does sound good. His throat feels raw, and his mouth is dry. And he’s starving.

Nurse Nancy smiles and looks at you. “What do you think? Has he been well behaved enough?”

Normally, Jack would take a little offense to it. But he turns to you, and you’re smiling bright, lighting up the whole room. His stomach does a somersault. He wonders if the way he feels about you is visible on the heart monitor, if his pulse picks up every time he looks at you.

“He’s the best,” you answer, and he melts. “Give him all the ice cream you’ve got.”

Ten minutes later, you sit there, holding a container of chocolate vanilla swirl. He’d been ready to eat it on his own until he remembered his arm, the surgery, the whole reason he’s here. He’d had to settle for letting you feed it to him. Maybe settle is the wrong word, really. It’s nice to be taken care of, even nicer when you’re the one who’s doing it for him.

He thinks maybe he’s still loopy, because in between bites, he pauses, looks at you, opens his mouth, and puts his foot directly in it. “I meant it, you know. I love you.”

You nod. “I know.”

He’s too far into this to stop now. “No, I-“

You interrupt, dropping the spoon in the cup to place your hand over his. “Jack, honey. Tell me later, when you’re not high off anesthesia, okay?”

Oh. He cocks his head, slightly. His mouth tastes like chocolate and vanilla. You smell like flowers. Like the lilacs in the backyard of his childhood home. There’s a light and warmth in your eyes that makes everything feel a little bit better.

“And if I tell you later,” he says, feeling braver than he ever has before, “are you gonna tell me something back?”

You laugh. It’s still music to his ears. You pick up the spoon again, scooping up a bit of ice cream. His gaze stays locked on you.

“Yeah,” you say with a nod. “That I mean it the same way you mean it.”

That’s enough for Jack, for now.

He tells you again the next day, waits a full 24 hours because a part of him is worried it was all some sort of drug induced dream. But you’re packing up the suitcases, that same stupid show on the TV, and he turns to you where he sits on the edge of the bed and says it.

“I love you. Like, really love you. As more than a friend.” His heart is in his throat.

You drop the hoodie you’d been holding into the bag, walk across the room to him, and come to stand between his legs. He’s holding his breath. You hook your finger under his chin and pull his face to yours. He thinks he recognizes the look on your face, from the kitchen when you helped him tie his tie, from the living room with a plate of mozzarella sticks in your hand, from every moment he was feeling all his feelings for you.

“Yeah,” you say, kissing his cheek. “I really love you too.”

When you kiss him on the lips, soft and sweet and everything he’s wanted for ages now, he thinks that maybe the whole mess has been worth it.

…..

He sits in a wooden chair on the back deck of the lake house. It’s mid summer, the week of the 4th of July. The heat is nearly unbearable, heavy and sticky and inescapable. Trevor and Luke are on the grass, throwing a football back and forth. Jack’s trying not to check the time obsessively.

Quinn, who’s sitting next to him, gives him a look when he picks up his phone again. “She’ll get here when she gets here.”

Jack rolls his eyes and sinks further into his seat. “You’re a dick.”

“Jesus, I know she’s your friend but…” Quinn is shaking his head. “You’re being obsessive.”

He hasn’t told any of them. Not about the hospital bed confession, or the kiss, or anything that came after it. The flight back to Jersey, his head on your shoulder. The way you took care of him before he flew to Michigan for the off season. The late night calls the two of you have shared since then. He’s itching to see you. It’s been far too long. He’s been scared to tell them because he’s scared you’ll get here and it won’t be real. He’s being ridiculous, he knows it, but he can’t help it. It’s you.

He hears it when your car pulls up in the driveway. He stands up, ignoring the look Quinn gives him. He’s not quick enough- you must’ve parked and ran inside immediately. You come racing out onto the back porch, eyes wide, smile even wider, and he could melt into a puddle right there in the hot summer sun. You’re brighter than all of it.

He pulls you into a kiss right there, in front of everyone, earning a series of surprised yelps and gasps and cheers. He doesn’t care about anything else. You’re here, and you’re kissing him back, and that’s more than enough.

“Fucking called it!” Trevor yells, and Jack laughs.

“We all did,” Quinn says. “Glad you two finally figured it out.”

You won’t be here forever. You have work, and a life in the city. But for now, for this little slice of time, he gets to have everything he’s always wanted. That’ll hold him over for the rest of the off season. Or, more likely, until he caves in and gets an early flight back to Jersey to spend more time with you. From the way you smile when you stare up at him, he thinks it probably won’t be long.

a/n: thanks for reading! have been wanting to write about Jack for a bit & he’s just so best friends to lovers coded. so here we go!

#jack hughes x reader #jack Hughes x you #Jack Hughes fic #jack Hughes fanfic #Jack Hughes fluff #Jack Hughes fanfiction #jack Hughes imagine #nhl fic #nhl fanfic #hockey fic #honey writes #jh86

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