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samkerrworshipper · 1 day ago

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so win.

alexia putellas x reader

no fuel quite like my procrastination to not do other things i need to do. this is porn without plot, i’m not ashamed of it. it’s also unedited and has been worked on after a day of clinicals so if there are spelling mistakes and grammar mistakes i apologise. i wrote this in like 3 hours lol. i’m also a mess at the moment and actually avoiding my whole life so this is my outlet. anyways i wrote smut! for the first time in forever ;) also for the sake of this let’s ignore timezones bcus i couldn’t rewrite the start of this to make it work lol.

warnings: smut, 18+ viewer discretion advised

You’re not with Alexia when the campaign drops. You’re not even watching the game, you’ve never been quite able to wrap your head around the nfl thing or get into like your girlfriend, the rules of rugby have been so ingrained in your mind from childhood that seeing men run around in massive pads just gives you an ick.

You’re not even the person who sees it first, you’re sitting in a cafe trying to get some studying done because it’s impossible to do at home when your clingy girlfriend insists on sitting, holding, grabbing or clinging onto any part of your body when she’s bored. It’s like trying to keep a five year old entertained, and it always ends up with you sacrificing whatever coursework you have and being endlessly stressed when you fall behind. You simply leave studying for when Alexia is out of the house or when you have time to study elsewhere.

You’re heavily engrossed in rewatching a lecture you’d missed the previous week due to training when your phone lights up. It’s no exaggeration, your phone screen goes from being blank and dark to suddenly notification after notification pouring in. Different groupchats, instagram tags, text messages. There’s another ten minutes left on your study clock before you’re technically allowed to take a break but with every thing that pops up your only become more curious. Curious enough that you look down at your clock with complete disregard and reach for your phone. It’s sitting next to your laptop, it’s supposed to be upside down to minimise distraction but when you were watching the lecture it stopped you from being able to check the time and you liked to watch as the time ticked by.

You click onto you groupchat first, a mixture of Barca girls, mostly the older ones. Most importantly Mapi, who has bombarded the groupchat in a matter of seconds, with image after image of your girlfriend.

You click onto them harmlessly, Alexia has a series of campaigns that you’re aware of that are coming out in the next few months. As you’re waiting for the images to load you try and remember if she’d told you about any coming up, there was something for Cupra at the end of february and a big campaign for more than eleven in march, and a few smaller things amongst it but nothing you could think of that was due to release today, or in the next week.

When the first image loads, you’re eyes almost bug out. Your throat closes, the oxygen leaves your lungs and you feel almost dizzy. You have to blink multiple times to clarify that what you’re looking at is real, it’s not just a hallucination of some wet dream you’ve had, it’s a real photo that exists in front of you. As you flick through them, you only feel more unwell, and a little bit wet… or a lot.

The first one is just Alexia’s face, staring straight down the lense. The way she’s been captured is almost animalistic, pink sports bra, big earrings, her hair in the wet look. It’s her eyes though, pointed straight on, the eye fuck look, like she’s staring into your soul the same way she does before she’s about to rail you, except it’s all magically been captured in one photo. You want to look at it forever, you’re scared you’ve actually lost the ability to use your extremities and all the oxygen has stopped circulating inside your body from the mix of shock and awe.

With as much power you have you flick to the next photo, and if you were already feeling unwell this feeling is close to death.

Alexia, looking over her shoulder, flexing.

All of her tattoos are on show, every single muscle is accentuated and you almost drool on your phone as you study all of the different parts of the picture. Alexia’s skin is literally glowing, effervescently in a way you cannot even begin to describe. You know from thousands of hours of tracing the skin of your girlfriends back just how strong she is, yet with everything emphasised more in the photo you feel like no matter how many hours you’ve spent staring this is adding a whole new perspective. Her arms, her facial expressions, the illusion of her hair sticking to her skin, the pink contrast against her skin.

You have to scroll, because if you don’t you won’t be responsible for the actions you engage in whilst in a very public space.

The following few pictures are of other athletes, basketball players, gymnasts, runners, other football players. For the most part, americans, yet your girlfriend in all her glory is a part of it.

You get through quite a few photos before it comes to the video, you were already gobsmacked, but the video seals it for you.

Alexia looks flawless, absolutely ethereal in every way. It actually feels like you are living in one of your fantasies or dreams but no this is very much real life and you are actually dating the person on your screen.

There’s no chance you’re going to get any work done, you can’t even get a coherent thought that doesn’t involve Alexia. Alexia’s abs, Alexia’s back, Alexia’s eyes, Alexia’s face, Alexia. You pack up your books and laptop with one thought on your mind, seeing your girlfriend.

Mapi’s private messages to you are filthy, message after message of her reminding your of what is now out in the world and about how now even more people are going to be even more obsessed with her.

You drive home over the speed limit and slightly recklessly, it’s not a long drive from your favourite study spot to you and Alexia’s shared house, but it feels like it drags on for forever. Your knuckles are white from your tight grip on the steering wheel and your unoccupied foot is bounding furiously against your floormat. You run a couple of close yellows, which are mostly red and have a complete disregard for giving way to anybody. You have an end goal, and that goal is to get home before you combust from all of the built up energy and tension in your body from the reruns of the pictures you’d seen.

You’re not even sure if you put the car in park when you swing into the driveway, you practically sprint towards the door, leaving Alexia’s prized cupra to fend for itself. Your hand is so sweaty you struggle with the door knob for a few seconds, your brain is frantic and you struggle and jiggle with it until it finally turns and there is nothing between you and finding exactly what you’re looking for.

Alexia isn’t in the front room, not that she normally would be. You pace your way through the hallway, past your bedroom which seems unoccupied and into the living room.

Alexia.

Alexia is sitting, on your couch, trying to look as nonchalant as possible, though it’s hard to appreciate it with the shit eating grin on her face as she tries to make herself look comfortable and like she’s actually lounging on your couch. Her body is tense, it gives away her whole bravado, you don’t really care though.

“You’re home early? You said you wouldn’t be back till lunch time, no?”

There is no acknowledging of her comment, you take your jacket off and lay it on the edge of the couch before unceremoniously pouncing on your girlfriend.

“I cannot believe you.”

Alexia makes it easy enough for you to straddle her lap, opening up her legs and making plenty of room for you.

You stare into her eyes and all you can picture is the photo of her, the look on her face isn’t dissimilar to the one captured, but it’s not quite the same.

“The campaign? Did I not mention it?”

You roll your eyes before leaning down, alexia goes with ease, her mouth opening up for you as soon as your lips meet hers. It’s all teeth and tongue, not quite a fight for dominance, just pure arousal.

“You’re a brat, and really fucking sexy.”

Alexia smirks against your lips, and then she bites back, her tongue fighting against yours.

“So you like it?”

You move your lips to Alexia’s neck, licking a line down her neck and kissing up it before biting down, foregoing any kind of gentle.

“Do I like my girlfriend looking extremely fuckable on the internet? Jury’s still out on that one.”

Alexia chuckles, leaning her head back to give you full access to her neck.

“Mm, muy fuckable.”

The laugh that leaves her mouth is enough fuel for you to nip her again, sucking a mark right above her collar bone, not directly visible but enough to make her sweat about keeping it hidden at training tomorrow.

“I’m going to need a private show in that outfit at some stage.”

You move back up to Alexia’s mouth, this time the make out is less frantic, you’ve gotten out some of your residual jitters.

“That can always be arranged.”

You tug at the hem of Alexia’s sleep shirt that she still hasn’t gotten out of yet.

“Bed first, fashion show after.”

In the swiftest motion possible Alexia is bringing herself up onto her feet, and lifting you with her. You wrap your legs around her torso, never breaking the makeout.

She makes it to your bedroom at a record speed, dumping you onto the mattress before climbing back on top of you, her shirt being thrown haphazardly into the air somewhere as she lowers herself down. There’s no bra to fight with and you reach for her breasts before her lips are back on you, grabbing and rolling at her nipples until she gets the message and has climbed fully onto the mattress on top of you.

Alexia stays on top of you, making out for a while, until she get’s bored with her hands and decides that you need to mirror her level of undressed. She flips you on top with so much ease that it doesn’t even surprise you, the photos on the internet showed Alexia’s muscles, but they didn’t show just how strong your girlfriend truly was.

Alexia didn’t mess around with your tank top and bra, tugging them off with the same kind of urgency that you’d been in to get back to the house earlier. As soon as the clothes are gone you’re flipped back onto the mattress, Alexia retaking her position. Her hands go straight to your tits, pinching and pulling in a way that makes your back nearly arch off the bed. You’re already aroused from your session in the coffee shop, but this is only adding fuel to the fire.

It takes everything in you not to moan immediately, you clench your jaw and bite your lip as Alexia elicits all different kinds of sensations.

‘Sé ruidoso bebita.”

As per usual, not much gets past Alexia, you try to relax just slightly, let yourself feel it all completely.

“How wet are you going to be when I finally touch your pussy, hm? How wet did my photos get you? All hot and bothered in the coffee shop like a little slut.”

There is no point in shaking your head, you just smirk, you’re proud of it, you’re proud that you get to come home to this and everyone else just has to enjoy Alexia from a far.

“Show me, reach into your panties and show me how wet you are and maybe I’ll think about touching you.”

You hesitate for a second, but then Alexia pinches on of your nipples and rolls your other breast in her hand and your hand naturally moves downwards, your hips canting up as you do so.

Your fingertips are glistening and dripping as you bring them out of your shorts, Alexia doesn’t hesitate to pull them straight into her mouth, sucking all of your arousal straight off.

“Alexia, please.”

Alexia licks her lips in a way that makes you so certain that she’s desperate for more, she’s just as turned on about this as you are.

“Pants off.”

As soon as the words leave her mouth your reaching for them hem of your pants and kicking them off, your panties go with them.

Alexia doesn’t wait, she moves her body downwards until her mouth is hovering right above you.

She looks up at you, hesitates for a second, it’s the exact same face as the photo, beautifully feral.

She doesn’t hold back whatsoever, her mouth goes straight to your clit and you’re already aroused, already dripping everywhere but you reach another level. Your moans are breathy and free falling.

“Fuck baby, feels so good.”

You’re a stuttering mess and far too aroused to try and pretend like you aren’t already close.

Alexia keeps a steady pace, licking and sucking at your clit and occasionally living long strips up from your pussy. It feels so good, earth shattering good.

“Ale, close.”

You expect her to pull back a little bit, normally she likes to prolong your pleasure just a little bit, the wait is worth the reward. But it seems like the both of you are too aroused to ignore the urgency of the situation. Alexia doubles down, her arms pushing your thighs further apart and reaching up behind you to grab at your ass whilst she enjoys having more access.

When you realise she isn’t going to let up you unclench your hands from the sheets and push them into Alexia’s hair, grabbing at the root and pushing her exactly where you want, grinding down against her chin.

It doesn’t take long at all, alread close as it was. Then Alexia grazes her teeth over your clit and doubles down and you see stars. Your body goes with you, shaking and tensing before relaxing as your enjoy the aftershocks. Alexia takes the opportunity, pushing two fingers into you and setting a brutal pace.

“Alexia, need a second.”

Alexia doesn’t stop, if anything she only goes harder, her fingers searching for your g-spot and finding it with ease. The overstimulation makes your stomach tight and yoru clit ache, in the best way.

“Una mas.”

You shake your head, even though it’s blatantly clear you’re going to give her another one, there isn’t really a world where you wouldn’t, not when Alexia makes it so easy to feel so good.

“You can give me one more bebita.”

Alexia’s palm grinds against your clit gloriously, it’s a bit too much for a few seconds but it fades as the pleasure overtakes.

Alexia’s favourite activity is amking you fall apart, watching you experience a kind of pleasure that is unmatchable, all at her own hands. Alexia adds a third finger, knowing that it’ll give you what you need.

It’s more than enough for what you need to reach a release. This time the initial orgasm lasts longer, you tense for a few seconds before you go boneless on the mattress. You melt into the sheets, your head lulling against the pillow as you breathe your way through.

Once you’ve stopped clenching against Alexia she pulls her fingers out, licking up every part of your orgasm, not leaving a single drop behind.

She crawls her way up to you, lying down on her side next to you, looking at the blissed out expression on your face.

Your eyes open lazily, a big smile on your face.

“You’re unreal, literally, how did I get this lucky?”

Alexia leans in, it would be rude to not kiss your lips at every possible chance, especially when your smiling at her like that.

“The real question is how I got this lucky.”

It the same kind of phrase that would elicit vomiting noises from your teammates in the locker room, and yet you love it all the same.

The kiss is soft, everything you need in the moment. It gives you enough confidence to reach your hands down inbetween the two of you, pressing down against Alexia’s front with one intention.

Alexia gasps into your mouth, and it’s enough guidance for you.

You walk your fingers up to the waistband of her pyjama shorts that she still hasn’t changed out of at nearly midday. You trail them down on the inside, unsurprised at her lack of underwear.

Alexia’s wet, the cotton of her shorts sticking to the insides of her thighs.

You part her folds, enjoying the way she moans and gasps into your mouth as you map your way through a different part of her body.

When your fingers find her clit, it’s easy to tell just how turned on she is.

You set a pace of fast tight circles, you’re well educated on Alexia’s body and when she’s this worked up this is the best way to get her to an orgasm.

You know she’s getting closer when her kisses get sloppier and desperate, her lips hang onto yours like they’re becoming an extension of her, like she’s scared that if you separate it’ll take part of her with her.

She shakes and grinds into you, searching for that last bit of stimulation she needs. When she infds it she groans into your mouth, her hips jerking one final time before they go weak, her body goes still for a few seconds. You slow down but don’t come to a full stop, pulling every last bit of her orgasm out for her until she’s tugging your hand out of her shorts.

Alexia presses some soft kisses to your lips before pulling you into her with one arm.

“If that’s what I get every time I take some nice pictures, maybe I should do it a bit more. See if I can get a job with Victoria’s secret or a swimsuit company.”

Alexia doesn’t need to see the look on your face to know exactly how all of your features would clenhc up and your eyes would roll.

“If you do that there will be a whole lot less sex for you and a whole lot more sessions with my vibrator for me. You’re cute, but I’d like to keep some of it for me.”

Alexia snorts, before tugging you in tighter.

“The fans would like it so much though, maybe I should just post some of the photos from the beach over the summer in Ibiza, the topless ones were cute.”

You elbow Alexia straight in the gut.

“How about you model the nike outfits for me first, and then we can decide how far you can take your new found modelling career.”

You’re still in slight disbelief that Alexia managed to keep something this big from you. She was obviously always having ongoing things going with nike, but something this big, and this special was hard to keep underwraps.

“I looked that good, huh?”

You roll even further into Alexia, pressing your whole body into hers.

“Muy bueno. New additions to the wank bank right there.”

You snort when you look over your shoulder and see the confusion on Alexia’s face, her english is good, but her english slang lacks in certain departments.

“Wank bank?”

You snort again, the innocence behind her voice makes it so much better.

“Just my folder for when I’m very alone on camp, and need some extra assistance.”

Alexia’s brain clicks, she laughs, and then the meaning must click in because she blushes beet red.

You stand up, already searching for your forgotten articles of clothing.

“Wait a minute, wank bank? What else is in this folder?”

You’re already tugging your pants on and trying to find your tank top which had apparently vanished into thin air.

“Hopefully whatever new photos I can find in the album of spares that was left over from this shoot.”

Before you can hear what else Alexia says you’re racing off in search of her laptop.

“Wait, I need to see this folder. Bebita, I need my own folder. WHAT IS IN THIS FOLDER.”

—————-

anyways have a wonderful day/night! i love you! somebody out there loves you! you are blessed to have this day and every other one to come <3

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luvyeni · 3 days ago

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LOVESICK BOY 𝕼. ( 이동혁 )

𝓲𝓲 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒𓈒 ( 이동혁 x fem!reader ) ─── ❛ genre ⸝⸝ smut. content warning. unprotected sex , oral ( f )word count. 3.5k 「 req? ⦂ yes/no 」 library !

synopsis … haechan is completely lovesick … but you won’t give him the time a day , until chenle comes in and shows you what you’ve been missing

𝕼 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒 yeni’s note .ᐟ this is the one that i think was supposed to be a yandere but the person didn’t specify

you really couldn’t see the appeal; all he did was sleep around with other girls, party and never show up to class — so why couldn’t you stop staring at him?

“my god he’s so annoying.” chenle turned around to see who you were staring at. “and how is she even falling for that?” you watched donghyuck flirt with the 3rd girl this morning , the girls eyes shimmered with hope and joy. if only she knew she’d be severely disappointed in the end. “this is your third complaint about him today.” jeno smirked. “we’ll need to get a jar , every complaint about hyuck you’ll have to put a dollar in the jar.”

“hey maybe we will be able to afford a new game for the frat after all , give it a week.” jaemin teased , you scoffed. “with the way she talks about him , maybe will have a little left over.” the table laughed , while you just rolled your eyes. “haha very funny , im leaving.” you stood up ready to walk away when someone blocked your path. “lee donghyuck.” you sighed , the boy smiled in front of you. “hey my wife to be.” he smirked. “where you going i just got here.” he said.

“really because we all saw you flirting with that girl over there.” you didn’t even mean to sound jealous , but it came off like that. “you jealous?” he said , you stepped to the right , but he followed blocking you once again. “come on you know you’re the one that i want.” and he was serious about that , but to you it meant nothing. “yeah , how many people did you say that to today?” you pushed him out the way , walking away to your next class.

he waited until you were out of sight and earshot before he sat in the seat slumped. “and what’s got you upset today?” marked smirked , the guys groaning knowing the rant he was about to go on. “you got him started.” he sighed dramatically. “i just don’t get it , why won’t she take me seriously.” his friends shook their heads. “how many times do i have to confess for her to get it.” he said. “for starters don’t flirt with other girls in front of her.” renjun said. “but i wasn’t flirting , i only asked where she got her necklace from.” he said. “i wanted to buy it for yn , she said a month ago her favorite necklace broke and i wanted to get her a new one , that looked like one she would like.” he said.

“yeah but that girl looked like she wanted to pull your pants down and suck your dick in front of everyone and with how friendly you were, it looked like you’d let her.” chenle said. “this is driving me insane.” he tugged at his hair. he couldn’t get you out of his head, you consumed him entirely even though you barely gave him the time of day. he even enjoyed when you would insult him because at least you were talking to him. “you guys don’t understand.” he sighed. “you’ve explained it , many many many times.” jisung looked up from his phone. “we understand.”

“where did obsession even come from , she’s never given you any reason for you to like her like that.” jaemin said. “i don’t know , it’s just that every single thing she does makes me crazy, even now i feel sick that she isn’t here , i miss her and she doesn’t even know it.” his friends watch him pour his heart out. “i think i love her.”

“whoa calm down.” mark said. “at least get her to like you before you start talking fucking wedding bells , children and shit.” the table chuckled , but he was serious. “how can i get her to like me?” he said. “aren’t you supposed to be good at this?” chenle said. “aren’t you like known for getting girls out of their panties , this should be a walk in the park for you.” haechan knew his reputation ; and he won’t deny his freshman year he really was like that — but then he met you , and everything changed , he no longer wanted to be a player , he wanted you and only you… turns out his past did come with consequences , you hated him; you wanted nothing to do with him despite him telling you that he changed , you refused to believe him.

“that’s the thing , i don’t want to get her out her panties.” they all looked at him. “well not just that , i want to be her , go on dates , take her to the movies , hell sit in the park and have a picnic.” he said. “yeah but you also want to fuck her in these exact places and she’s aware of that.” jeno said. “it’s your approach bro.” mark said. “yn doesn’t want to know what you’d do to her if you were alone in her bedroom.” he said. “she’s probably heard that 1000 times already.” he doubled over with a groan , he couldn’t fathom another guy talking to you. “instead of approaching her like a jerk , ask her on a real date first; or at least say hello when you see her and not and this is a quote from you ‘hello mother of all 6 of my future kids.’

he thought about all the advice that he was giving; as he waited outside of your class. “don’t say anything stupid.” he said to himself , walking back and forth. “nothing stupid.” he said. “oh that must be hard for you.” he spun around upon hearing your voice. “you’re constantly saying stupid stuff.” he smiled , your upper lip curled up in annoyance. “hi yn.” he said. “what do you want lee donghyuck?” you walked , he followed behind you. “well to ask you a question.” he said. “no.” you said , he pouted , making you feel bad. “fine what is it , i have a class.” you said. “i can walk you.” he said walking next to you. “is that what you wanted? that’s not a question.”

“that’s not the question yn , please listen to me for a second.” he pleased. “what is is donghyuck?” you said. “let me take you out,” he said. “what?” you stopped. “let me take you out.” he repeated. “on a date , a real date.” he said. “and why would i do that?” you said. “because im trying to show you that im not a heartless bastard with no home training.” you stifled a laugh. “did you laugh?” he said. “no.” you deadpanned. “yes you did , come on it was funny , you can laugh.” he said. “haechan — oh my god , you called me haechan.” you stared at him. “i have class donghyuck.” you stopped outside the classroom. “then say yes; we’ll go see a movie.” he explained. “we can even go get ice cream , brownie your favorite.”

“how did you know that?” you asked. “just say yes , before you’re late.” he said. you thought about it for a second , no sexual jokes , no condescending smirk on his face , although sexy made you want to slap him — he was serious. “are you fucking with me?” you said. “yn i wouldn’t have walked you all the way to class if i wasn’t serious , my class is on the other side of campus.” he said. “im waiting and you know what i think i can miss a day of class , this class seems fun.” he tried to walk past you , but you stopped him. , hand on his chest. “no don’t do that.” you said. “i will go; so go back to your class , lord knows you shouldn’t miss a day.” he smiled , his hand coming to your wrist. “really?” he said. “i will meet you at the movie theatre , now go.”

he waited for you to go into the class; before bursting out in a fit of excitement; you said yes , he couldn’t believe you said yes.

“i can’t believe i said yes.” you slammed your vanity. “why did i say yes?” you complained to your friend on the phone. “because maybe you really like him and you let his reputation from freshman year determine your entire perception of him.” chenle said. “still , we both saw him flirting with those girls.” you said. “i won’t be another one of sexual conquests.” chenle spoke up. “be realistic who didn’t do dumb shit during freshman year? you ran topless down a busy street drunk and has haechan judged you for that?” he said. “no in fact he was the one who chased you down the street, shirt in hand , his shirt because yours was floating in our pool.” you cringed, remembering jeno and haechan dragging you back to the dorms as you screamed. “i genuinely believe that was the first time he actually realized he fell deep for you and not because you were naked and in his arms.”

“to be honest haechan hasn’t been with anyone since freshman year , im pretty sure he fucked himself into not wanting anything , but not only that , but because he quite literally doesn’t want anyone else but you.” chenle said. “and those girls , we know he’s friendly even the teachers think he’s flirting with them.” he said. “but he was touching her.” you said. “because she had a necklace that he wanted to buy you , he remembered you broke yours and he wanted to get you a new one.” he let it spill out; should he have? no , but with the new look on your face he knew haechan would thank him in the end. “i only mention that once , months ago.”

“and he remembered; just how he remembers everything you say , down to the name of your dead hamster you had when you were three.” chenle said. “i genuinely don’t think you understand how much he likes you.” he said. “and i think you’re letting your soulmate slip right from your hands.”

as you stood staring at the movie posters; everything was swirling around in your head as you tried to make sense of it… did haechan really feel this deeply for you? you’ve treated him so horribly for all these years for some stupid things he did when he was fresh out of highschool; and now chenle sprung this on you… you felt like shit. you hadn’t even realized that haechan was late. “yn!”

you were gonna kill him; you’ll never give him the time of day again, you’re gonna think he’s fucking with you. “calm down man , how were you supposed to know your car was gonna break down.” mark sat in the drivers seat. “call her , im sure she’ll understand.” he said. “she probably already went home , and blocked me.” he said. “well we’re here , so get out and hope she’s still there.” he hopped out of the car , running into the movie theaters. “please still be here.”

he saw you and let out a sigh of relief; your back was turned but he could tell it was you. he could pick you out of a lineup with his eyes closed; just by your scent alone. “yn!” he ran over to you. “im so sorry i didn’t hmph.” was he dreaming? this was a sick joke his mind was play; he was dreaming , you actually weren’t here and this was a dream he was having. he had to be — because there was no way you were hugging him right now. “um not that i don’t like this … but what is this?”

you were silent; no you sniffled. why are you sniffling? are you sick? “yn , this is weird, what’s wrong?” he pulled away; you were too ashamed to look him in the eyes. “please look at me , im sorry for being late.” he said. “why are you crying?” he said, worried even more now. “what happened did someone do something?” you shook your head. “then tell me please im dying.” he said, which made you laugh through your tears. “im so stupid.” you said. “please i’ve met stupid girls and you definitely aren’t one of them.” he said. “oh no that came out wrong i promise i haven't met any girls , it’s just me saying that i think you’re very smart.” he panicked. “please just tell me why you’re crying.” he said.

“because i’ve been so mean to you an-and all you’ve tried to do is be nice to me and i judged you for things you did years; even though you’ve never judged me even when i ran down the street topless— hey!” his hand came up to your mouth. “not everyone needs to hear that.” he said. “where is all this coming from?” he said. “im just sorry for everything.” you said. “every single thing i’ve done wrong.” his first instinct was to grab your face. “nothing could make me hate you okay?” he said. “i haven’t done much to prove how much i really like you; only how much i wanted to sleep with you — wait not that i want to sleep with you, why am i so bad at this all of a sudden.” he said. “let’s just go see the movie okay, we can get ice cream after and talk alright?” you nodded , he took his hands off your cheeks , taking one of your hands into his. “come on wipe those tears off your pretty face.”

haechan could barely watch the movie with the way your hand was gripping his. you wouldn’t let him go , and he wouldn’t have it any other way — if this was a dream he was scheduling an appointment for a therapist when he woke up because he would never mentally recover from this if it was fake. “why do you keep staring at my home like that?” you whispered with a smile. “because im trying to see if im dreaming or not,” he said. “you’re holding my hand.” he said. “you’re actually holding my hand.” he smiled. “you’re on a date with me, and you’re holding my hand.” he could’ve burst into excitement if he wasn’t in a quiet movie theater. “you’re not dreaming.” you kissed his knuckles and he almost passed out. “see.”

“maybe i still don’t believe it.” you giggled , before you reached over kissing his cheek, leaving the boy shocked. “do you believe it now?” he nodded. “good because i don’t think there was anything else I could’ve done here in public that would’ve made you believe me.” you said. “well maybe if there was less people.” did you really say that? what did you mean by that? now he was thinking about other stuff. would you have touched him? in public?

the movie soon ended and you still hadn’t let him go even as you made your way to the ice cream shop to get your ice cream. “sorry we’re out of brownie ice cream.” the worker said. “really?” you frowned. “maybe you can get chocolate?” he said. “it’s not the same.” you said. “well we can stop to get some food since you didn’t eat anything at the movies.” he said , he really didn’t want this date to end. “or..” you started. “we can go to my apartment and i can make ramen.” your house? you were letting him in your house? “what do you say?” why would he fucking say no? “okay.”

the walk back to your apartment wasn’t that long , nether was the elevator to your apartment; but he soon found himself in your space, surrounded by your scent and all things you — this was his heaven. “haechan.” he heard you call him , which made him turn to you. he couldn’t even react before your lips were on his. your kiss was something he dreamt about often , your soft pillowy lips on his; your fingers working their way through his neck hairs. “wa-wait yn.” he pulled away before he got carried away. “as much as i love this , i definitely don’t want to do this just cause you feel bad.” he said. “no-no i want this.” you said. “i want this so much.” you said , and that was all the confirmation he needed. “then let me do it.”

he picked you up; taking you to your room , kicking the door open. “wan’ you go sit on my face.” he said. “fuck i need you to sit on my face.” he groaned , laying back. “i don’t want to hurt you.” he didn’t care; dying with his face stuffed between your legs seemed like his dream way to go. “no , no you won’t please.” he begged , pulling your skirt down , along with your panties , your wet was right there , he could smell your scent as you dripped for him. “please sit , please im gonna die if you don’t.” he grabbed your thighs desperately. “sit please.” you finally gave in , lowering yourself down , you could feel his tongue. “oh-oh hyuck.” you moaned , yelping as he impatiently pulled you down. “fuck!”

he wasted no time licking your folds , holding you by your waist like you’d run away if he didn’t , your hips involuntarily moved against his tongue , your hands coming to hair pulling at it. “fuck keep going.” you moaned. “just like that , im gonna cum!” he sucked on your clit , sending you over the edge. “oh my god!” you gasped your legs began to shake. “im cumming!”

the boy below opened his mouth , allowing your juices to flow straight into his mouth; drinking everything you had to give him; his cock begging to be freed and touched — tasting you wasn’t enough, he needed to be inside you. “hyuck i can’t - too much!” he finally let up on your poor cunt , but that doesn’t mean he was done. “i need you.” he moaned, kissing your thighs. “you have me.” you said , he flipped you over. “I need to fuck you , pl-please.” he pressed himself against your bare lower half. “pl-please hyuck.” you reached down , pulling at his pants , undoing the buttons. “please fuck me.”

he stood up quickly; not wanting to be away from you much longer , pulling his pants down , along with his underwear. “i-i don’t have a condom.” he said , you didn’t care right now. “are you clean?” he nodded , his aching cock standing in desperate need of attention. “then please touch me , please.”

he climbed back in between your legs. “fuck.” he cursed the moment his hip touched your soaking cunt. he knew he wasn’t gonna last long , but he knew he didn’t want to let you down. “It-it’s okay.” you touched his cock , slowly guiding it inside you. “oh fuck you’re so tight.” he had to compose himself. “fu-fuck i don’t think I’m gonna last.” he fully stilled himself inside you. “can i move?” you moaned. “please move hyuck.”

he grabbed your waist; moving. “oh-oh fuck you’re so big.” he groaned. “faster hyuck.” you whined. “please go faster.” he hissed as he picked up the pace , feeling you clench around him repeatedly. “fuck if you keep doing that , im gonna cum.” he said , his movements still remaining strong and fluid as his tip kissed your cervix over and over. “fuck im cumming.” he groaned ,his cock twitching inside you before he shot his load inside of you. “oh fuck im sorry.” he pulled out , finishing on your sensitive cunt. “sh-shit it’s okay.”

he definitely wasn’t about to leave you hanging; pushing his sensitive cock right back inside you. “fuck hyuck!” you screamed , your neighbors surely won’t be happy with you in the morning. “wanna make you cum.” he said , his hands planted on both sides of your head. “fuck hyuck keep going.” you moaned. “right there , im gonna cum.” he kept up his pace , soon your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you came. “oh fuck!” he felt himself cumming a second time , this time he didn’t pull out.

“i didn’t pull out.” he said breathlessly. “th-that’s okay.” you said. “we-we need to clean up.” you sat up , but he wasn’t done , now that he finally got a taste of you , he wanted it again , and again and again. “not yet.” he kissed your stomach. “i wanna do it.” your eyes followed his dark ones as he kissed and bit at your thighs. “wanna clean your pretty pussy myself.”

it was truly gonna be a long night for your neighbors.

“there he is at it again.” jaemin looked past you , making you turn around. “he can’t read a single room can it.” you watch the girls face turn beat red as the boy in front of him start a conversation. “she can’t either , can she not tell he’s not interested.” chenle spoke up. “excuse me.” you got up , the table was confused. “class?” jeno smirked , you shook your head. “no.” you walked away , straight over to the boy. “oh hi , you see these earrings?” you nodded at the clueless boy in front of you. “our 5 months is coming up , wouldn’t you like these?” the girl finally got the hint walking away. “wait what brand are they?” you dragged him back to the table. “I’ll find you a better pair.”

“and he still can’t see why she hated him?” jisung said. “I don’t need anymore jewelry ; we’ve been together 5 months and you’ve given me way more jewelry than i’ll ever need.” you said. “you’re right , i’ll just get you flowers.” you smiled , giving him a cheek kiss. “if that’s what you want hyuck.” he still stared at you with the same love sick look.

he was clueless and couldn’t read the room at all ; but he was yours… and you wouldn’t change him for the world.

©️LUVYENI

#nct smut #nct dream x reader #nct dream hard thoughts #nct dream hard hours #nct dream smut #nct hard thoughts #nct hard hours #nct x female reader #nct dream x female reader #nct dream fanfic #nct dream fics #lee haechan smut #haechan smut #lee haechan x reader #haechan hard thoughts #haechan hard hours

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f1girliefics · 1 day ago

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From Monaco, With Love

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: A solo vacation to Monaco turns into something unexpected when you meet Lando Norris at a bar.

The bar in Monaco was exactly what you needed, dimly lit, atmospheric, the kind of place where you could sit back with a drink and simply exist.

A vacation for yourself, a way to celebrate how far you’ve come.

No obligations, no expectations. Just you, the warm Mediterranean air, and the luxury surrounding you.

But then you saw him.

Lando Norris sat across the bar, effortlessly confident, dressed in a way that told you he knew exactly how good he looked.

Sharp suit, slightly loosened tie, hair styled with just the right amount of carelessness.

It was impossible not to notice him.

You weren’t here for this.

You weren’t supposed to entertain any romantic ideas, but as he caught your gaze and started approaching you, you thought, why not?

A little fun wouldn’t hurt.

“Drinking alone?” His voice was smooth, carrying something playful as he settled into the seat beside you.

“For now,” you replied, sipping your cocktail. “But something tells me that’s about to change.”

Lando grinned, a boyish charm to his smirk. “Smart and beautiful. I like that.”

That was the beginning of something you never expected.

---

The next few days felt like a dream.

Lando took you on long drives through winding roads overlooking the ocean, you felt the way he’d glance at you when he thought you weren’t looking.

He showed you his yacht, laughing as you teased him about the sheer extravagance of it all, only to pull you onto the deck and wrap an arm around your waist as if you belonged there.

“You live like this all the time?” you asked, watching the sunset.

He shrugged. “It’s better with company.”

Shopping in Monaco was another adventure, Lando insisted on picking out things for you, draping luxurious fabrics over your shoulders, and holding up pairs of sunglasses to your face with a critical expression.

“You’re going to have to carry all of this,” you warned, laughing as he handed another bag to an already overwhelmed store assistant.

“I don’t mind,” he said, with a casual shrug. “If it means I get to see you wear all of it. And take it off of you later.”

Each moment with him was effortless, a beautiful distraction from the reality waiting for you back home.

But reality couldn’t be ignored forever.

---

“It was fun,” you admitted as you stood by the docks on your final evening, the night breeze warm against your skin. “Spending the last few days with you.”

Lando’s brow furrowed slightly. “Last few days?”

You gave him a small smile, trying not to let your own emotions get the best of you. “I don’t live here, Lando. I was just… visiting.”

“You’re leaving?” his tone was a bit panicked.

You nodded. “Tomorrow.”

He was quiet for a moment, jaw tightening slightly. “Where’s home?”

You hesitated, but eventually gave him the name of your city.

He didn’t say anything else. He just nodded, giving you one last long look before pulling you into a kiss that felt like goodbye.

---

You didn’t expect to see him again.

You certainly didn’t expect him to show up at your doorstep days later, standing there with an enormous bouquet of flowers and that same determined look on his face.

“You can’t just show up here,” you breathed, completely taken aback. "How did you even find where I live?!"

“I can show up,” he countered. “And I found you my own way.”

“Lando-”

“I don’t care if we come from different worlds,” he interrupted, stepping closer. “I don’t care about any of that. I just know that I don’t want what we had in Monaco to be the end of us.”

You stared at him, overwhelmed, your heart pounding in your chest. “You’re really here.”

He smirked. “Took a flight and everything.”

You shook your head, letting out a small laugh. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Maybe,” he admitted, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “But I know what I want. And I want you.”

You allowed him into your home, as he kissed you.

There were still doubts, still questions, but in that moment, as you looked into his eyes, you realised none of them mattered.

Because he was here. And so were you.

And that was enough.

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris fanfiction #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x you #lando norris imagine #lando norris fluff #lando norris imagines #lando norris x female reader #lando norris x y/n #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one #x reader

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msfantasy-anime · 1 day ago

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That’s MY Husband!

Luffy x Wife!Reader

Summary: Boa finds out Luffy is married

A/n: Yo i for real struggled with a concept for this… i actually don’t like it but i just want to complete the request

Part XI

“Hello, we want to register our marriage~” You say, beaming at the clerk who is looking between you and Luffy with weariness.

“You want… a marriage certificate?” The clerk asks, unsure if he heard you right.

“Yep.” Luffy pops, becoming antsy with anticipation.

“You want… to be married … to him?” The clerk asks you pointedly, making sure he understands the situation. “Or is this marriage certificate for another gentleman?” The clerk looks down at Luffy’s outfit which looks like it was looked like it was grungy old clothes yanked off the floor (it was) and dirty from a day gallivanting about the city. Whilst you? You were in a nice clean outfit which look brand new from the store and that’s not even taking into consideration of your styled hair, manicured nails and pretty makeup.

There had to be a mistake.

What kind of groom doesn’t even have the decency to put on nicer shoes?

“Huh? Who else would it be for?!” Luffy bellows making the clerk flinch.

“A-are you a pirate?” The clerk asks hesitantly placing his hand underneath the counter, feeling for the panic button.

“Sure am! I’m gonna be king of the pirates!” Luffy bellows once again making the clerk shake fearfully in his place as he continues to feel around for the button.

“Y-your trying to force this young lady to marry you. Aren’t you?” He asks, more so accusing than anything.

Your hand slams down onto the counter, haki emanating off of you. “No one’s forcing anything. Now I’d get your damn hand away from the panic button.” You say with seething frustration leaking from your taut mouth. “You’re ruining the moment for us.” You hissed threateningly, making the clerk relent in fear.

“Y-yes ma’am! R-right away ma’am!” The clerk scrambles away in search of the marriage certificates only to come zooming back around the corner with the certificate in hand, having both you and Luffy sign the documents.

As soon as Luffy drops his pen, he turns to you and plants a kiss right onto your lips, unlike all those years ago when you first got married, you actually returned it this time.

Your lips collide into each other making your nerves fizz and buzz at the sensation of Luffy’s own mouth pressing so tantalisingly against your own. But just as soon as it started, it ended with Luffy pulling away with a huge grin slapped across his face until it quickly fades in terror at the sound of the towns clock chiming to indicate the new hour.

“CRAP! Nami told me to be back by the bell! Let’s go!” Luffy yelps, dragging you along in a dazed state back to the ship.

It felt like you teleported to the ship.

One moment you were being dragged out of city hall and the next moment you were both standing aboard.

You were expecting to be hearing an ear full from Nami at your tardiness, only she’s currently distracted with the pirate empress, Boa Hancock… who just so happens to be aboard.

It only took a mere moment of your presence for Boa to snap her head up, her eyes dragging across you and quickly darting away to stare at Luffy.

You’re curious as to why she’s here, and you don’t miss the glossy, heart eyes she’s throwing at your clueless husband.

Now imagine the horror of watching a pirate, known as the most beautiful woman in the world, call out your husbands name, pulling him into an embrace and puckering her lips as she is about to press her own mouth to his. A place that’s meant to be strictly for your own, and a place you kissed just moments before.

The swift shock of dismay that ran through your system caused you to stand stock still, unmoving, unblinking and not breathing. You were so caught off guard by the action, you weren’t sure if you want to cry, scream, yell or become violent at this woman’s non-consensual advances on your husband.

It felt like you were under a spell, unable to do anything but watch on as your blood runs cold.

Sanji places his a firm hand on your shoulder, as if pulling you out of your internal hysterics with his calm demeanour and reassuring grip, but your shaken nerves and furrow brows wordlessly explain your intentions of escalating.

Taking a long drag of his cigarette Sanji begins to provide you advice. “Give the captain a minute. There’s a certain grace Boa has earnt, after all- without Boa’s help, Luffy would be dead, and so would Ace.”

You turn your attention back to Luffy, who is currently craining his neck away. His hands planted around her wrists as he holds them back.

“Hey! Back off - I have a wife!” Luffy reprimanded Boa. Her affectionate gaze seems to shatter at Luffy’s careless words. Her struggle to grab him seems to fumble, her arms turning more limp.

Boa’s bottom lip begins to wobble in honest heartache.

It’s funny. One moment you were wanting to punch her lights out, the next you felt bad for the girl who was obviously head over heels for your husband… and understandably so.

But now… now it’s just sad as you watch the most beautiful woman in the world go limp, falling to the ground on her ass as she begins to wail at Luffy’s news. Watching the pirate princess cry fat blobs of tears is far from entertaining.

“I-I-I thought-t-t the r-r-report was WRONG!” Boa stutturs and and sobs all whilst she bites her bottom lip to stop it from trembling.

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you side eye your clueless husband who only seems to cringe away at Boa’s loud crying.

Gently, you approach the pirate princess grabbing her hand and returning it with a reassuring squeeze. “Unrequited love is unfathomably painful.” You say, providing a small smile.

Nothing could’ve prepared you for what came next.

Your simple words cause Boa to release the loudest wail yet, throwing herself at you, crying into your chest.

“I-I-I-I thought if I w-was just p-patient- that he-he would eventually l-like me b-back!” She wails once again. You just continue stroking her head, unsure what to do other than to provide comforts to the heartbroken girl.

Oh boy… this isn’t how you thought your wedding day would go…

#one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #one piece imagine #one piece x s/o #one piece x you #luffy x reader #luffy x you #straw hat pirates imagine #asked and answered #strawhat pirates x reader #pirate x reader #pirate!reader

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musingsofmajesty · 3 days ago

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𝐚 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 𝐬𝐡𝐲 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐱 𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐯𝐨𝐥. 𝐈𝐈

summary now that you’ve kissed, the two of you can’t help but wonder what it means moving forward. Luckily, it’s so easy being with each other that taking it day by day doesn’t seem half bad | wc 1.1k

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[best enjoyed in order, but not required! ♡]

.・゜゜・・゜゜・．

If it’s one thing shy!eddie knows well, it’s labels. They’ve been forced on him all his life. But this—whatever has blossomed between the two of you—he can’t quite pin down. And the universe sure as hell isn’t gonna step in and do it for him. For once, the cards are in his hands, and he doesn’t know what to do with them.

Later that night, he walks you out to your car, and it’s one of the hardest things he’s ever done. The feeling of your lips still lingers on his. He’s never wanted anyone to stay as badly as right now.

Nevertheless, you hug him one last time, and he gets the door for you without second thought because he’s always done so. Even before you made butterflies a permanent fixture in his stomach.

“Thanks, Teddy,” you lilt as you settle behind the wheel. “Can I call you that?” You’re teasing, but only partly. His blush is evident in the glow of the streetlamps that illuminate Forest Hills against the night.

He hasn’t heard that nickname since it came past his mother’s lips when he was a boy. He smiles a little, lifts a shoulder as if he’s more indifferent than he is. “If you want," he says.

You’re quiet for a beat, then cutely scrunch your nose up at him. “But what do you want?” Eddie blinks like he hasn’t heard the likes of this question in a long while.

“You can call me Teddy,” he decides. You could call him Edward for all he cared. Whatever you wanted, really. That’s when he realizes he’s in trouble. The best kind.

Shy!Eddie who can’t pinpoint the exact moment it happens, but realizes he’s begun to pay more mind to the way he looks—undoubtedly because of you. One morning at 7 AM, his Uncle Wayne knocks on the bathroom door. Inside, he hears the startled sound of a tub of hair gel tumbling into the sink. “Shit—I’ll be out in a second!”

An affectionate smirk pulls at Wayne's lips. “Guess I'll use it outside like a dog,” he jokes.

Later that day, as Mrs. O’Donnell lectures the class, Eddie feels you poke the end of your pencil into the side of his ribcage from where you sit behind him. The way he straightens makes you smile, and he shoots a discreet glance over his shoulder to see what you want. Except your gaze is cast out the window in feigned innocence.

Three minutes later, he curls in on himself as the ticklish pokes start up again. This time, you pass him a ripped piece of notebook paper that features your neat, bubbly handwriting: hi, handsome ;)

All Eddie can do is helplessly flush with warmth.

A couple weeks later, as you’re painting your nails on your best friend’s bedroom floor, you think aloud, “Me and Eddie.” Robin peers down at you from her bed, where she absentmindedly braids a strand of her hair. “I think we’re a sure thing.”

Her brows lift in surprise. “So you’re official?”

You purse your lips in consideration. “No, we’re just…us.”

Robin frowns at first, but eventually nods because, maybe, that’s all love was ever meant to be. Unadulterated in the sense that it could never be bogged down to titles and definitions.

“Sweet,” she finally says.

You nod and begin to smile at the thought of him. The way he gives you his full attention whether you’re talking about life at large or your day. The way he bites back his own goofy smile whenever he unintentionally makes you laugh—which happens all the time. The way he’s welcomed you into his little world.

You’re remiss that you weren’t braver sooner.

“Yeah,” you agree in a wistful exhale. It is pretty sweet. You raise your hand to gently blow over the sheer pink polish coated on your fingertips.

Like clockwork, the dismissal bell sounds to denote the end of yet another school day. A few more months, and you'll be kissing these stuffy, bustling halls goodbye.

Eddie catches up with you at your locker and asks if you’d like to go hang out with him in the woods behind the school. It’s nice out today.

You narrow your eyes as you shut the metal door. “So was this your plan all along? Get my guard down so you can lure me into the woods and go in for the kill?”

He knows you’re joking, but his answer is sincere anyway. His big bambi eyes dark and gooey as he says, “Never. No way.”

There’s a picnic table nestled amidst the tall trees, as it turns out. A calming breeze glides through the branches and rustles their leaves. Eddie sits first and expects you to choose the bench across from him, but you sit on the same side. You want to be near him. He can’t complain.

A comfortable silence settles between you that he eventually breaks. “Used to come out here a whole lot," he says. “I’d write songs or sit and listen to music," he lists. "Enjoy the scenery…” his words fade as his eyes settle back on you. There’s a tender depth to your gaze.

He smiles a bit self-consciously, but he's not exactly embarrassed. More so hyperaware because you always make him feel so seen. “What?” he murmurs.

Without a single word, you scoot closer to press your lips to his. One of his hands rise to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing across your skin. This kiss is different. Deeper. Unlike your usual affectionate pecks in every way.

Warmth kindles in your stomach when his initial hesitancy dissipates. As he finds his way, his lips move sure and easy against your own. Plush and warm. You can feel his gentle exhales puff from his nose, and against your own desire, you slowly begin to pull away to ensure all this is alright.

But Eddie’s okay. He’s more than okay. For the first time since he’s known you, he feels the soft tug of frustration in his chest. Except it’s not rooted in irritation. It’s rooted in want.

When he leans back in, cheeks flushed and dark eyes hopeful, you let his lips just barely graze yours before you pull away. He tries again, and you lean back once more, flustered and excited by his newfound boldness.

You place a gentle hand on his chest and chuckle despite yourself. “Easy, Teddy,” it’s a honeyed warning that carries no bite.

“C’mere,” he insists, a pout on his face even though it's threatened by a smile. "Wanna kiss you." His voice drops low and shy, like it's a secret.

When you giggle, butterflies aflutter in your stomach, he takes it upon himself to hold you steady and kiss the sweet sound from your lips.

The two of you are a sure thing, indeed.

Thanks for reading! All likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated ♡

a/n making this a series because I can't get enough of these two. Stay tuned for the formal announcement!

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#“easy teddy” ♡#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x reader #eddie munson headcannon #joseph quinn #stranger things fanfiction

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t1ts-4-donaldson · 2 days ago

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Mutual masterbation with Stanford Art

It’s a scorching Saturday afternoon when you find yourself laid half naked in Art's bed, the AC unit in your dorm had broke Thursday morning and you’d been doing what you could to stave off the heat, spending most of your day in the library or cafeteria between classes but you always had to go back to your god forsaken room at the end of the day.

Art had noticed your condition the past few days sweating through lounge clothes that fit a bit to tight for comfort short enough to show a little more skin, he understood your discomfort but fuck you looked so good each forced to excuse himself after each encounter around hard as a rock. It was confusing to you not noticing how hard he was or his obvious infatuation towards you but you paid no mind.

Art been in love with you for ages pining pathetically for years. Patrick mocked him comparing him to a dog utterly devoted yet all of his attempts were in vain, someone else always caught your eye or you’d write off any of his compliments as friendly banter. He was on the verge of giving up but the summer heat finally gave way to the possibility of anything happening between you two.

you hit your boiling point unable to handle the exasperating heat

so now you're here at his front door pleading for some relief.

“Art it’s too hot I need air please" you stammer the words completely jumbled together, he’s taken aback a bit but steps aside letting you in

“can I strip please I’m begging you" clammy hands tugging at the hem of your shirt

“of course yeah.” Art acquiesces voice cracking as he turns away respecting your privacy utterly shocked, his best friend here almost nude. You strip grateful in too much distress to notice his unease.

“lay in the bed” he offers still staring at the wall, you squint the blatant shyness but don’t care stumbling forward falling back exhaling deeply the breeze from the air-con finally hitting your body the cold calming you down

"Art lie down" you hum patting the space next to you, the boy shuffles over landing next to your body making sure there’s miles of space between you both

You frown shoving your shoulder against his, gripping his arm and pulling him closer "why are you freaking out you've seen me in a bikini before" you ask puzzled.

"this is different" he shrugs "underwear" he gulps, he hates himself for acting this way clamming up like a child it’s pitiful.

"Art it's just me, your best friend" you grin cupping his face tilting his head meeting his worried gaze.

Best friend he winces but wills that strain away shutting his eyes giving in tugging his shirt off as well. “I guess I need fresh air too” he sighs settling against his pillow not before peeking at your chest, nipples pebbling through your lace bra. He averts his gaze quickly when you pinch his arm coughing awkwardly knowing he’d been caught.

“Artie.. something you like?” You joke scooting a bit closer to him

“you wish” he sneers but shifts uncomfortably tugging his shorts trying to tamper down his growing boner, you follow his movements, realizing of what’s happening hitting you.

“want me to help?” you ask.

“Shut up” he whines embarrassed “you’re fucking with me” he rolls his eyes with disdain

you try to sound sincere “I will..” you nod, hand slowly shifting over his stomach towards his crotch “only if you want” you stammer sitting up on one elbow.

“yes, yeah go for it” he chokes out eagerly in disbelief

You settle back down palming his hard on, “fuck” he throws his head back you smirk ego slightly inflated, hand slowly tugs the waistband of his boxers down mouth salivating at the sight erect tip flushed pink leaking, it makes you feel sorry for him. “So needy” you pout running your fingers up and down his member squeezing his balls lightly

“Tease” he chokes out gripping the sheets firmly, you give in feeling bad once his chin starts to wobble, you spit in your palm looking into his eyes as you do so his reaction priceless, mouth slack eyes blinking languidly

you tug his spit slathered dick slowly up and down, rolling his balls between your hand roaming up again running your thumb over his tip smearing pre cum over it, holding back a giggle when a whimper escapes his lips twisting your wrist with each pump.

“Fuck I’m close” sweat beading on his forehead enough of an indication, you lean forward and suck his neck nipping a bit before rising your mouth barely touching his “cum for me.”

He shudders beneath you panting softly one hand gripping your thigh with a vice surely leaving red indents on your flesh.

You attempt make his high last as longer milking him dry until he grabs your wrist, “too much” he heaves chest flushed red just like his cheeks.“Didn’t know you’d be that good” he laughs.

“Doubting my skills? that hurts” you mock lifting your hand observing the thin creamy substance on your skin bringing your fingers to your lips sucking them out of curiosity. Art gulps eyes fixated dick beginning to harden again.

You sigh in contentment, leaning back against the headboard staring up at the ceiling “hope that was nice” you smile knowing it was.

You stiffen as Art unexpectedly grips your waist. “Can I do you” he pleads meekly.

“no need to return the favor” you laugh ruffling his curls but he shakes his head desperately. “Please.. let me make you feel good” his body vibrates “been wanting to for a while-” he admits eyes watery “please-”

“alright..” you whisper caressing his cheek wondering where his eagerness is coming from.

what really takes you back is him kissing you, immediately latching his mouth on yours without warning biting at your bottom lip, demanding to open up. You cave tongues lashing together as spit dribbles down your chin. His hand snakes down stopping right over your mound running his fingers up and down your slit over your underwear the cotton rubbing against your clit just right

you gasp mouth dropping at the sensation he smirks fingers slipping into pussy gathering juices from your hole smothering it over your clit tracing he circles around it

“shit” you groan feeling his fingers slip inside you lost in your own pleasure nails digging into his arm body rolling in time with his hand.

An idea pops up, finish at the same time

you sneak a hand between his boxers knowing you can pull another orgasm out of him, Art hisses at contact involuntarily slowing his ministrations cursing trying to concentrate on his movements, “together come on” you urge pecking his lips gently

He nods both of your bodies trembling in tandem, exchanging moans between open mouths, gripping skin trying to find some semblance of control.

“Art I’m close” you squeal eyes shut tight chest rising and falling rapidly

“come on fucking cum” he grunts sinking his teeth into your shoulder your legs clench together as pleasure rips through you like lightning, a sudden gushing sensation releases between your thighs you gape at his soaked palm

“I didn’t know I could do that” you pant trying to catch your breath

“doubting my skills?” He whispers pecking a sloppy kiss on your cheek

#mike faist #challengers #art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #challengers x reader #hannasmusings #art donaldson x y/n #art donaldson imagine #challengers imagine #challengers x y/n #stanford!artdonaldson

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mononijikayu · 3 days ago

Text

paninindigan kita — ryomen sukuna.

“You know what, I changed my mind. You can go ahead if you want.” he’d said, looking anywhere but at you. “I’m not really the best company.” You looked at him with a raised brow. “You just told me that you wanna get home together.” “Yeah, but I—” “You think I care?” you shot back, smiling and pulled at his arm. “Come on, let’s go.” “Hey, aren’t I gonna have a choice here?” You giggled. “When someone makes a promise, he gives up his right to rescind the offer!”

Genre: Alternate Universe — College! AU;

Warning/s: General Rating, AFAB! Reader, Use of She/Her, Use of Female Centered Identification, Pet Names (Babe, My Love, Hotshot, Etc), Romance, Fluff, Humour, Love, Comfort/ Hurt, Friends to Lovers, Established Relationship, Lovers, Dating, Delinquent Trope, Feeling, Light-Hearted, Slice of Life, Idiots In Love, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Healthy Relationship, Friendships, Profanity, Swearing, Teasing, Injury, Mention of Violence, Mention of Delinquency, Mention of Injury, Mention of Physical Fighting, Volleyball, Volleyball Captain! Sukuna, Boyfriend! Sukuna, Girlfriend! Reader;

Words: 7k words.

Note: i know im in the middle of the valentines special, but i just can't help myself. i reread lovesick and it just slaps you know??? i ended up thinking about what could be a sequel to it. i ended up thinking about opm songs as title, since opm songs just hit different when it comes to love.

paninindigan kita is soooo perfect for this. oh and this is another multiverse of concubine reader and sukuna, where they are ACTUALLY in love. so i hope you enjoy this little gift. i think this is,,,,the care before next week. nanami's fic is NOT for the faint hearted. it requires tissues. anyway, i love you all!!! see you on the 10th <3

masterlist

if you want to, tip! <3

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IF ONE WAS BEING HONEST, NOT MANY CHILDHOOD SWEETHEARTS MAKE IT THE WAY YOU AND VARSITY CAPTAIN RYOMEN SUKUNA DO. That is the unadulterated truth, tried and tested through the ages and has stayed true to itself.

You and Sukuna had started dating in a very discreet manner in junior high. It was a very well kept secret for a time. And that was to be expected. The Sukuna people knew today was not the Sukuna he used to be.

That’s why you supposed everything about it was new and uncharted, something even both of you could not expect. Everything about it was a wild, unexpected match that neither of you saw coming but somehow made perfect sense.

Ryomen Sukuna was already by this time an infamous troublemaker, a magnetic force of nature for danger and trouble. He was someone with a reputation as the school’s untouchable menace and he proved that almost every day.

Teachers sighed when they saw his name on the attendance list. The school staff could only release a curse and a groan with the realization that they would have to clean up after him and many students from the whole of the junior high and high school whispered about the many fights he always got into but somehow never lost.

He was that young boy with the proud bruised knuckles and a defiant smirk, walking through the halls like he owned the place even though authority figures would have loved to see him expelled.

His uniform was perpetually rumpled, his tie loose like he couldn’t be bothered to fit into anyone’s mold. Even all the parents warned their kids to steer clear of him, to avoid trouble.

But you? You saw something else.

It wasn’t just the raw confidence or the magnetic way he carried himself, though that certainly didn’t hurt. No, it was the glimpses of a quieter Ryomen Sukuna. You knew the boy who lingered behind the gym after school, looking out at the sky as if he was waiting for something bigger than this tiny town.

Often he would drink a strawberry milk carton and eat anpan and somehow sleep as peacefully as a kitten. You knew the boy who would shove his hands in his pockets shrewdly and softly mutter a word of thanks when he woke up, realizing that you were also sharing his space and quietly brought him bandages when he rested there after a particularly bad fight.

That continued on for a while. And somehow it became a routine. Though, it changed from time to time. At times you found yourselves eating lunch together and talking to each other in between the bites. At times you both ended up playing card games, after he brought some with him — since he pocketed it off some poor first year junior he defeated.

(Though he brought it back when you scolded him about it.

He groaned on and on about it, telling you he’s not going to do it.

But before you went home from cleaning duty, you saw him place it on that first year’s table.)

Sometimes, you get into the habit of listening to music. Which made you realize that you both liked classical music. Though his favorite is Tchaikovsky and yours is Mozart. At one point, the two of you were bringing out books.

At first you were surprised that he was someone that seemed to read for fun at all. Yet he did. If anything, he read books you didn’t even know about yet. And he would lend you his copies so you both can talk about it (and occasionally debate and argue.)

You were perplexed by the person he was. Everything about him was a contradiction. And almost certainly, it was the thing that pulled you close to him, almost like you could be the moon to his Earth. But you realized that deep down, in the depths of the person he was — he was someone that was brilliant.

Almost radiant scarlet in the rough gravel it dwelled upon. And you were perhaps the only one who knew that. The thought of that had made you bitter for a while, because such a gem shouldn’t be lost in the ether. Yet, there was a part of you that recognized that it was alright. Because you were already there. He wasn’t alone anymore. And he was glad for it.

Soon enough, you both realized that you were going the same route home. Just that you liked to walk home and he liked to take his bike. And because he doesn’t like abrupt endings, just as in the book. So, he suggested walking you home himself. After that, he thought about it. After that day, he left his bike at home.

And then he came up to you about walking home together. That first time he asked you to walk home with him, he’d tried to play it cool. He’d never gone home with anyone, let alone a girl. Let alone you.

And so, conclusion is that he was nervous.

He wanted to do well about it.

Yet, he was a trainwreck almost immediately.

“You know what, I changed my mind. You can go ahead if you want.” he’d said, looking anywhere but at you. “I’m not really the best company.”

You looked at him with a raised brow. “You just told me that you wanna get home together.”

“Yeah, but I—”

“You think I care?” you shot back, smiling and pulled at his arm. “Come on, let’s go.”

“Hey, aren’t I gonna have a choice here?”

You giggled. “When someone makes a promise, he gives up his right to rescind the offer!”

You could hear him grumbling under his breath, but it was nothing too bad to be sure. And that didn’t matter, not when his hands were warm against your own. Not when you could feel his scarlet eyes trailing against you so tenderly. Not when he was letting you lead the way anyway.

From that day forward, Ryomen Sukuna never went home alone again.

At first, you kept things quiet. At Sukuna’s request, of course. Sukuna didn’t want your name dragged through the mud because of him. People talked enough shit already. About how he was trouble, how he was destined for nowhere good. They just say everything that doesn't count to you.

You knew better, but he hated the idea of you being lumped in with his reputation. After all, you were better than he was, almost akin to a damn real life angel. You deserved better than having been considered a deal with him.

But of course, the stubborn girl you were was steadfast in saying no and only no. Not even when he gets into the worst situations.

“Why do you even hang around me?” he asked one afternoon, leaning against the chain-link fence near the basketball court. The sun glinted off the sweat on his brow from another fight he hadn’t started but definitely finished.

Sukuna huffed, leaning back against the wall as you pressed the bandage onto his arm with more care than he thought necessary. His crimson eyes narrowed slightly, but the rare smile tugging at his lips betrayed the amusement he tried to hide.

“You’re terrible at this, you know that?” he muttered, his tone gruff.

“Oh, I’m sorry, hotshot.” you shot back, glancing up at him with mock offense. “Next time I’ll let you bleed all over the place like some dramatic action hero.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’ve had worse.”

“Yeah, yeah, Mr. I’ve Had Worse.” You smirked, smoothing the edges of the bandage down. “You’re lucky I’m even doing this.”

“Why?” he asked, almost challengingly.

“Because I want to.” you said simply, not bothering to look up as you reached for another bandage. “That a problem?”

“That’s a terrible reason, really.” he muttered, his lips twitching. “Not well thought out.”

“And if it is?” you asked, finally glancing up at him with a playful glint in your eyes. “Whatchu planning to do about it?”

For a moment, Sukuna just stared at you, his sharp features softening in the warm glow of the room. The mischievous curl of your lips, the way you leaned in just slightly closer than you needed to—it was infuriating and endearing all at once.

“Dunno, really.” he said, his voice low but tinged with humor. “Maybe I’ll let you keep patching me up. You’re already doing such a stellar job here.”

You scoffed, giving his arm a light smack. “Ungrateful jerk.”

“Careful now.” he teased, his grin widening. “You keep calling me names, and I might start bleeding just to make you work harder.”

“Don’t tempt me with a good time.” you shot back, laughing. “I’ll use glitter bandages next time. Make you look real tough.”

Sukuna chuckled, a rare sound that made your heart flip in your chest. “You’re lucky you’re cute.” he muttered.

“And you’re lucky I like fixing up dumbasses who can’t avoid getting hurt.” you replied, sticking the last bandage on his arm with an overly dramatic pat. “Done. Now, try not to get stabbed again for, like, a week, yeah?”

“No promises, babe.” he said, standing up and rolling his shoulders with a smirk. “But I’ll let you keep playing nurse if I do.”

“Deal.” you said, grinning. “As long as you don’t complain next time.”

“Not a chance.” Sukuna muttered, though the rare, genuine smile still lingered as he followed you out of the room.

As you finished packing away the first aid kit, Sukuna leaned casually against the chain wall, his usual confidence back in full swing. You glanced up at him, hesitating for a moment as you watched him flex his arm slightly, testing the bandages.

“You know, ’kuna.” you began, your voice softer than before, “I don’t just patch you up because I feel like it.”

Sukuna raised an eyebrow, his smirk faltering. “What? Do you do it for practice or something?”

“No, no.” you said, laughing lightly. You stepped closer to him, your heart pounding, but you managed to hold his gaze. “I do it because I like you.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, Ryomen Sukuna looked genuinely stunned. His crimson eyes widened slightly, his usual sharp tongue momentarily silenced. He looked at you as the sly look in your face slowly melted into the tender demure one, blushing bright everywhere on you. But almost instantaneously, you got your resolve back.

“…What?” he finally said, the word coming out quieter than you’d expected.

“I like you, I said.” you repeated, more confidently this time. “Like, really like you. And not just because you let me fix you up after you inevitably get into trouble. I like you.”

Sukuna stared at you, his expression unreadable. For a moment, you worried you’d miscalculated, that maybe he didn’t feel the same way. But then, ever so slightly, his lips twitched.

“You’re serious?” he asked, his voice low.

“Completely.” you said, crossing your arms with a grin. “What, is that so hard to believe? You’re not that bad, you know.”

His gaze softened, a rare vulnerability creeping into his usually guarded expression. “…I didn’t think you were stupid enough to like someone like me.” he muttered, but there was no bite in his tone.

You rolled your eyes, stepping even closer to him. “Well, surprise! Turns out I’m just that stupid.”

For a moment, Ryomen Sukuna didn’t say anything. Then, with a quiet chuckle, he rubbed the back of his neck, his grin finally breaking through. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re not saying anything about how you feel about this.” you teased, poking him lightly in the chest.

He smirked, grabbing your hand before you could poke him again. “Maybe I’ll keep you guessing.”

“Or maybe you’ll just admit you like me too, you know?” you shot back, leaning in slightly.

Sukuna sighed dramatically, though the corner of his mouth twitched. “Fine. I like you too. Happy?”

You grinned. “Ecstatic.”

He rolled his eyes, but the faint blush creeping up his neck didn’t go unnoticed. “You’re gonna be a pain in my ass about this, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely, hotshot.” you said, laughing.

Sukuna shook his head, but his rare, genuine smile lingered. “Yeah, well… don’t expect me to go easy on you just because I like you back.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” you said, winking back at him. “Now come on, I still want that sundae from the convenience store!”

And for the first time, Ryomen Sukuna didn’t look like the untouchable, tough guy everyone thought he was.

He looked happy.

Too damn happy.

And it looked good on him.

Both of you enjoyed the quiet of your new bliss as much as possible. You both kept to yourselves most of the time, expanding on the adventures you already made as your routine. You both kept it discreet, and this time because you both weren’t ready for anyone to just know all about it. You wanted to keep Sukuna all to yourself. And in turn, he did too.

But despite your best efforts, secrets have a way of getting out.

The day everything changed was after Sukuna took on three older guys who thought they could corner him near the sports field. He walked away victorious, of course, but with a split lip and a bloodied brow. You rushed to his side without a second thought, cupping his face as the crowd murmured around you.

“You’re bleeding again, 'kuna.” you said, dabbing at the cut with a tissue from your bag.

“I’m fine.” he grumbled, though his eyes softened under your touch.

The crowd wasn’t subtle, not one bit.

“Wait... are they... together?”

“No way.”

“Her? With him?”

“She’s too good for that delinquent.”

Ryomen Sukuna heard every word, his jaw tightening. He was used to the judgment, but hearing it directed at you made his blood boil. He was ready to snap, to tell everyone to shut the hell up until you squeezed his hand.

“Let them talk their shit.” you said calmly, meeting his eyes. “I don’t care.”

The warmth in your voice melted the tension in his shoulders. You didn’t care. And that was enough.

From that day forward, Sukuna didn’t bother hiding how much he cared about you. He walked you to class, carried your bag when it was heavy, and glared down at anyone who dared look at you sideways. People whispered, of course, but no one was brave enough to say anything to his face.

You saw sides of him no one else did, one he only exposed to the person he held dearest. The one that devotedly belonged to you. And you kept him safe, closer than ever before. You started to build a puzzle, full of every bit of him, little by little.

The Sukuna who stole fries off your plate but always left you the last bite, who texted you to make sure you got home safe, even when you weren’t walking together, and who fought less often because you made him want to be better.

He was still rough around the edges, still intimidating to everyone else, that was true enough. But with you? He was just Sukuna. Your Sukuna. And that was all you ever wanted him to be.

Life did change after your relationship went public, though not as dramatically as you might have expected. Sukuna was still the notorious troublemaker with a penchant for glaring and intimidation.

You were still the person everyone was convinced was too good for him. But if anyone thought Ryomen Sukuna would mellow out completely, they were sorely mistaken. Especially now that you both were in the last year of high school.

That one afternoon, as the two of you walked home together, Sukuna stuffed his hands into his pockets, his usual scowl in place. “People still can’t believe you’re with me, y’know.” he muttered. “Heard some idiot today say you’re slumming it. Tch.”

You snorted, nudging his side. “Just jealous, ‘kuna. I’m pretty sure they can’t handle that the delinquent king got the best catch in school.”

Sukuna raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching upward slyly. “You think I’m the delinquent king? Sounds like I need a crown or something, don’t I?”

“Oh, please.” you teased. “If anyone’s getting a crown, it’s me. I’m obviously the one carrying this relationship, my love.”

Sukuna stopped dead in his tracks, dramatically clutching his chest. “Wow. Betrayed by my own girlfriend. After all the fights I didn’t start for your sake.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “You’re such a drama queen.”

“You knew that going in.” he shot back, grinning now as he draped an arm over your shoulder.

The playful banter continued as you reached his house. You both planned to eat dinner together before he took you home. Your parents didn’t mind that you were coming home late, since they were also working.

And they understood that you were after the volleyball team manager. Though they didn’t know about how early you finished — primarily because Sukuna always ends practice early so he can spend more time with you before he takes you home.

Coming inside the house, he welcomes you inside. Sukuna carefully kicked off his shoes with a huff, flopping onto the couch like a cat claiming its territory. You followed him rather quickly, settling in beside him as he lazily tossed an arm around you.

“You know, my love, I’ve been thinking.” you said, tilting your head to look at him. “You’re actually kind of sweet when no one’s looking.”

“Don’t start spreading lies now.” he teased, his grin widening.

“Oh, I’m serious. Big bad Ryomen Sukuna, all soft and cuddly.”

He narrowed his scarlet eyes. “Say that again, and I’m carrying you out of here fireman style.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

The next thing you knew, Sukuna had hoisted you up over his shoulder, laughing as you squealed and flailed. “Ryomen Sukuna! Put me down!”

“Too late, babe.” he said smugly. “You called me soft. Now you’re getting evicted.”

“I live here half the time already!”

“Not anymore!”

Eventually, he relented, setting you back down with a grin that made your heart skip. You huffed, crossing your arms. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love it, don’t you?” he said confidently, leaning down until his face was inches from yours.

“…Maybe.” you admitted with a smile.

He grinned triumphantly. “That’s what I thought.”

As much as the world still saw Ryomen Sukuna as the intimidating, wild Cursed King, you knew the truth. Beneath the scowl and reputation was a boy who loved fiercely, who fought for what mattered, and who never let go of the one person who saw the real him.

And honestly? That was more than enough for you.

══════════════════

AFTER A YEAR AND A HALF, YOUR MOTHER AND FATHER FOUND OUT. The news broke just right before the typical family dinner on the Sunday. And you had wished it never happened. Because it just broke your heart to endure this.

There was a seemingly innocent comment from a well-meaning neighbor who talked with her high schooler daughter about how "Ryomen Sukuna from the volleyball team always walks you home." And naturally, that made your parents curious. A little digging here and there from the neighbor, it was out.

You could practically hear the record scratch when your mother paused mid-stir of the soup, eyes narrowing suspiciously. Your father, ever the stoic one, lowered his newspaper with a furrowed brow.

It didn’t take long for their disapproval to make itself crystal clear.

They didn’t care that Sukuna’s presence grounded you, that his gruff demeanor melted into rare softness when it was just the two of you. They didn’t see the boy who remembered the little things—how you liked your ramen without onions, your favorite snacks for stressful days, or how he always carried an extra umbrella just in case you forgot yours.

None of that mattered.

What they saw was a scowling boy with tattoos crawling up his arms and a reputation for fists that spoke louder than words. They didn’t hear his low, thoughtful hums as he followed the rhythm of the anime openings he adored, or his boyish grin when he perfectly timed his spikes on the volleyball court.

Your mother wrung her hands, pacing. “That boy—he’s nothing but trouble, I’m telling you. What future does someone like that have?”

“Volleyball captain or not, it doesn’t matter.” your father grunted. “He’s not the kind of person I want near my daughter.”

You clenched your fists under the table, biting your tongue until it hurt. They didn’t know him, not really. They didn’t know how he carefully patched you up after your own scrapes or how he walked at your pace, even when it was inconvenient for him.

They hadn’t seen him laugh, hadn’t heard his proud, slightly cocky declaration when you aced an important test: That’s my girl.

“I love him.” you said, voice steady despite the lump in your throat.

Silence fell over the room, heavy and suffocating.

Your mother looked at you as though you’d just confessed to a crime. “Love?” she repeated incredulously. “You’re too young to understand love, and especially with him.”

Your father’s jaw tightened. “You’ll end this nonsense immediately.”

“No.” you said firmly, standing up, your chair scraping against the floor. “I won’t.”

They didn't expect that.

“You don’t get it, do you?” you continued, trembling but resolute. “He’s not what you think. He’s kind, thoughtful, and he’s helped me become a better person. Just because he’s rough around the edges doesn’t mean he’s bad.”

“You’re throwing your future away for him?” your mother exclaimed, pacing across the living room.

“He’s nothing but trouble!” your father added, shaking his head. “We didn’t raise you to make these kinds of decisions.”

“I’m not throwing away anything!” you shouted back, voice shaking. “Sukuna’s not what you think he is. You don’t know him at all!”

“We know enough, daughter.” your mother said sharply. “Boys like him don’t change. They just drag you down with them.”

The words hit harder than you expected, cutting deep.

“Well, maybe I get to decide what my future looks like!” you shot back, tears blurring your vision. “And it’s none of your business who I love!”

Silence hung heavy in the air, thick with words that couldn’t be unsaid. Your parents’ faces were hard, unyielding, and it was clear there would be no convincing them tonight. Heart pounding, you grabbed your bag and stormed toward the door.

“Where do you think you’re going?” your father demanded.

“Anywhere but here.” you spat, slamming the door behind you.

You didn’t know where you were headed until your feet carried you right in front of Sukuna’s house. By the time you reached his door, your throat was raw from holding back sobs, and your chest felt like it was going to burst. You knocked twice, the sound echoing in the quiet evening.

The door carefully creaked open, revealing your Sukuna in sweatpants and a loose hoodie, hair messy like he’d just woken up from a nap. His sharp scarlet eyes softened when he saw you standing there with tear-streaked cheeks.

“Hey, babe.” he said, blinking. “What are you doing here?”

“I ran away from home.” you blurted, voice trembling.

There was a beat of silence before he stepped aside. “Well, come in. Can’t you be out here in the cold.”

You shuffled inside, dropping your bag by the door as Sukuna closed it behind you.

“What happened?”

“Rough patch.” You whispered to your boyfriend. “.....So I left.”

“You left?”

“Yes.”

He looked at you as though he didn’t believe you. “You have a bag with you.”

“Okay, look. It was bad and I ran away.”

“You ran away?” he repeated, leaning against the wall with crossed arms. “Like, for real? With the dramatic door slam and everything?”

“Yes.” you muttered, sinking onto the couch. “My parents found out and…..they don’t like you.”

Sukuna snorted, though there was a flicker of something softer in his eyes. “Yeah, well, I’m not exactly a parent’s dream, y’know. Shocking, I know.”

“They said you’d ruin my future, my love.” you admitted, voice cracking.

He let out a low whistle. “Damn. Harsh.”

“I told them they didn’t know you.” you continued, wiping your eyes. “But they didn’t care. They said they did. Like you were some villain or something.”

He scratched the back of his neck, looking vaguely uncomfortable. “I mean… I do kinda have the whole villain aesthetic going for me.”

You glared at him. “Not helping.”

“Sorry, sorry.” he said, though a small grin tugged at his lips. “So, what’s the plan now? Gonna fight me for the good spot on the couch and share my instant ramen?”

The absurdity of it made you laugh through your tears. “Sounds like a great future.”

Sukuna grinned, leaning back against the couch. “Your parents are probably losing their minds right now.”

“They’ll get over it….eventually.” you said stubbornly, though doubt lingered at the edge of your voice.

“Maybe so.” he agreed, his voice softer. “But if they don’t, you can stay here. I mean, I’m kind of a mess, but I’ve got room.”

“Really?” you asked quietly.

He shrugged. “Yeah. You’re not so bad to have around.”

The bittersweet warmth in his words made your chest ache. “Thank you, my love. Really…..I’m lucky to have you.” you said, leaning your head against his shoulder.

“Anytime, babe. Don’t worry about it.” he muttered, resting his cheek against your hair. “But, uh, just one rule.”

“What?”

“No eating all the good ramen flavors. I’m serious.”

You laughed, the sound lighter now. “Deal.”

As messy and uncertain as everything felt, sitting there with your Sukuna, so domestically and so enjoyable in the warmth of each other — everything about it didn’t seem so bad. If anything, it was a lot more than what you would expect. It was a life worth living.

The steam from Sukuna’s shower lingered in your skin as you stood by the fogged mirror, brushing your damp hair out of your face. The fight with your parents still sat heavy on your chest, but the warm water had washed away some of the weight. You exhaled slowly, steeling yourself before slipping into one of Sukuna’s oversized shirts that smelled faintly of laundry soap and him.

Padding out into the living room, you were met with the comforting aroma of something savory simmering in the kitchen. Sukuna stood at the stove, bare-chested except for a pair of gray sweatpants slung low on his hips, stirring a pot of miso soup. His hair was a mess, damp from the lingering humidity of the house.

“You cook?” you teased, leaning against the doorway with a raised brow.

He didn’t even look up. “Don’t sound so surprised now. Didn’t I cook you your lunch during festival week?”

“Oh! I thought that was store bought.” You teased him.

He raised a brow, amused. “Oh, is that so? How about I stop cooking—”

“No, no. Continue.”

He hums, moving closer to kiss your cheek. “Hm, that’s what I thought.”

The casual affection in his voice settled something inside you. The warmth of his lips stayed tender against the pinkish hues of your cheeks. You looked at him for a moment. He shook his head and smiled, pointing at the dining table.

You nodded and sat at the small dining table, watching him move around the kitchen with surprising ease. He plated rice into two porcelain bowls, poured the steaming miso soup into the smaller soup bowls, and set them down in front of you with a clink.

“Nothing fancy, babe. Sorry about that. I didn’t get to the grocery today. Practice lasted longer today.” he said, sitting across from you. “But it’s good to curb the cold from you, since it’s warm.”

“Don’t worry about it, my love. It’s more than perfect.” you murmured sincerely.

The first spoonful was simple but comforting, warmth spreading through you as you ate in comfortable silence. It was just like a hug, like your beloved boyfriend’s tender hug. You hummed as he watched you eat. Soon enough, Sukuna ate with his usual ease, occasionally glancing up at you as if to check if you were okay.

“So……” he said after a while, leaning back in his chair. “Are you really not going home tonight?”

Your spoon froze midway to your mouth. “I don’t know. Not tonight. And…..Maybe not for a while.”

He nodded, his expression unreadable. “Then what? Are you moving in with me?”

Your heart skipped a beat. “What?”

“I mean, I don’t….mind.” he shrugged at you nonchalantly. “We’re young, yeah, but if that’s what you want, I’m not against it.”

“You’re not?” you asked, stunned by how easily he said it.

“Nah.” he said firmly. “If you’re here, I’m gonna live my life taking responsibility for you.”

Your breath caught as the gentle pink in your cheeks turned cherry red. “Sukuna—”

“I’m serious, babe.” he cut in, his voice softer now but unwavering. “You just walked out on everything for me. That’s not small, you know? I have to do the same. So I’m gonna make sure you’re happy, whatever it takes. I’ll figure it out. You’re my one and only for the rest of our lives.”

The sincerity in his words hit you like a tidal wave. Suddenly, brutish tears blurred your vision, and before you knew it, the spoon clattered onto the table as you stood up. Sukuna blinked in surprise as you stumbled blindly around the table and threw yourself into his arms.

His chair scraped back as he stood to catch you, his arms wrapping tightly around your trembling form. “Whoa, hey.” he murmured, sounding a little panicked. “What’s this? Are you crying on me now?”

“You’re such an idiot, you’re such an idiot!” you sniffled against his shoulder, voice thick with emotion. “But I love you so much.”

He froze for half a second before laughing, warm and genuine. “Yeah? Well, I love you too, idiot.”

You pulled back just enough to see his face, your tears still clinging to your lashes. His grin was crooked, soft in a way that made your chest ache with affection. He takes in the look of you, with that devoted haze that could only be once in a lifetime.

“Guess we’re stuck with each other now, huh?” he teased, brushing a tear from your cheek with his thumb.

“Yeah, yeah.” you whispered, smiling through your tears. “For the rest of our lives.”

Sukuna grinned, pulling you back into a hug. “That’s good to hear.” he murmured against your hair. “Cause you know that’s exactly what I want, hm?”

In that moment, with his warmth surrounding you and the future uncertain, you felt the tears well away and calm take over you. With this love, this warmth, this man — somehow everything just felt less frightening. And it made you feel so lucky.

So goddamn lucky to live, to have this love. This life. Because you knew that no matter how messy things got, you’d be okay as long as you had each other. As long as you had Sukuna, you’d be alright.

══════════════════

THE MORNING WAS RATHER UNEVENTFUL. Well, that was until the blue hour huddled through the capricious skies. The knock at Sukuna’s door was heavy and deliberate, filled with the weight of everything unresolved.

You stiffened instantly, your heart thudding against your ribs as you glanced toward the window. Your breath caught when you saw them—your parents standing stiffly on the porch, your father’s expression hard and unreadable, your mother fidgeting with the strap of her purse.

“It’s them, my love.” you whispered, stepping back as a lump formed in your throat.

Sukuna, drying a dish at the sink, glanced up and set the towel down with calm purpose. “Your parents?” he asked, his tone neutral.

You nodded, unable to form words. “I don’t want to see them, not right now.” you muttered finally, wrapping your arms around yourself.

Sukuna’s sharp eyes softened as he walked toward you. He placed a warm hand on your shoulder, grounding you. “You don’t have to, babe.” he said quietly.

Relief washed over you, but it was short-lived as he made his way to the door. “What are you doing?” you asked in a panic.

He glanced back at you, a small, reassuring grin tugging at his lips. “Gonna talk to them.”

“Ryomen Sukuna—”

“Hey, hey. Just trust me, okay?” he said gently, giving you a tender gaze. “I’ve got this.”

Before you could stop him, he opened the door and stepped outside, closing it softly behind him. Your heart raced as you crept toward the window, peeking through the curtain.

Your parents stood rigidly on the porch, their expressions guarded but uncertain. Sukuna stood tall, almost so proud, with his broad-shouldered and unflinching, meeting their gazes with calm confidence.

“I see you’ve come.” he greeted politely, his usual sharp edge tempered by something respectful but firm.

“Where is our daughter?” your father demanded, his voice gruff and commanding.

“She’s inside my house.” Sukuna said evenly. “But she doesn’t want to see you right now.”

Your mother’s face faltered. “We just want to talk to her.”

Sukuna nodded, understanding in his expression. “I get that, mam. I really do.” he said calmly, “But I also get why she’s upset. I know I’m not exactly the kind of guy parents dream of for their kid. I know that much. ”

Your father’s frown deepened, but Sukuna stood his ground.

“I’m not here to make excuses for myself.” Sukuna continued, his voice steady. “I’ve been in fights, well I used to. I’ve stopped, ever since me and her dated. But I know that I’ve got a reputation, and I know how that looks to you. But I need you to know this—” he took a deep breath, his voice unwavering, “I love your daughter. And only her.”

Your mother’s lips parted in surprise, but Sukuna wasn’t finished.

“She might not move back home with you and that’s her choice, I respect that from her.” he said, glancing between them. “But I want you to know that she’s safe with me. I’ll take care of her."

He only continues when they didn't speak. "I’ll make sure she’s never hungry, never sick, and that she always has a roof over her head. I’ve got a job, and it pays well enough for a graduating high school student. And my parents wouldn’t mind having her here either.”

Your parents were stunned, the weight of his words settling over them. Even from behind the window, you could see the cracks forming in their defenses. Sukuna’s lips curved into a small, genuine smile.

“I hope that clears things up, mam, sir.” he said simply. “I love your daughter. I really do. I hope you see that. I hope you see that I’ll always live and breathe for her.”

Silence stretched between them. Your father cleared his throat, clearly at a loss for words. Your mother’s eyes glistened, though she remained quiet. Sukuna dipped his head respectfully at them. He knows they would need time to process all that.

“Thank you for coming, really.” he said gently. “You can come see her anytime if she’s ready. But for now, let’s respect what she needs. Please.”

With that, he turned and walked back inside, closing the door behind him. You stood frozen, tears welling up in your weary eyes as Sukuna leaned casually against the doorframe, his expression unreadable.

He takes a soft breath before he looks back at you, almost too shyly. Almost like he wants to hide away as the warm scarlet of his eyes echoed on his cheeks too. “You heard all that, huh?” he asked, voice low but amused.

“You’re unbelievable, my love.” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

His lips quivered into a lopsided grin. “In a good way, I hope.”

Without thinking, you surged forward, throwing your arms around him and holding him tightly. Sukuna hesitated for only a moment before wrapping his arms around you, his warmth enveloping you completely.

“I love you. So so much.” you murmured into his shoulder, your voice breaking.

He chuckled, the sound low and comforting. “Yeah? Well, I love you too. Always.”

You pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, which softened in a way they rarely did. You don’t think you’ve ever felt love like this, not even before when you had crushes. Or not even when you fell in love for the first time. In a way, Sukuna had made his own category in your heart, in your soul. He was irreplaceable, he always will be.

“Thank you, for being in my life. I don’t know how I’d be without you.” you whispered, the weight of everything he’d done settling over you.

He brushed a tear from your cheek with his thumb. “Don’t thank me, babe.” he said with a grin. “This is just what you do when you love someone, right?”

You hummed back at him. You felt his hands drift through your hair, slowly letting the strands slip through his fingers in a careful caress. He kisses your temple, meeting your eyes. Your chest ached, full to the brim with affection for the boy who had always stood by you, fierce and unyielding.

“Guess we’re stuck with each other, aren’t we?” you said softly.

“Damn right, babe.” he teased, pulling you back into his arms. “Forever or nothing.”

══════════════════

epilogue

This year’s championship dinner was already wild, perhaps even wilder than the last year. Well, that was to be expected, especially with Captain Ryomen Sukuna negotiating the afterparty budget with the university himself — and considering he was bringing in the best result the university ever had in sports, why wouldn’t he get the big afterparty budget?

There was so much of the abundant hotpot bubbling at every table, plate after plate stacked high as if it's attempting to reach heaven, and the varsity volleyball team loud with post-victory energy.

Ryomen Sukuna, however, was in his own world, calmly devouring hotpot like the unbothered menace he was, chopsticks working methodically through noodles. And that you expected. Your boyfriend was exhausted.

You, meanwhile, had everyone's full attention as you dramatically told the story.

“So there I was, the most beautiful person alive.” you said, waving your chopsticks like a microphone. “I was just standing in Sukuna’s living room, freaking out because my parents showed up. And I told Sukuna I didn’t want to see them. What does this guy do?”

You pointed dramatically at him and he didn't even look up. “He walks outside, so brave with his barefoot, like some rom-com protagonist, and tells my dad—who, by the way, looks like he grills steaks with his bare hands sort of energy—”

“Big dad energy, got it, got it.” Vice Captain Gojo Satoru interjected, already wheezing.

“—‘I love your daughter, and I’ll always live for her!’” you said, attempting to mimic your Sukuna’s gruff tone.

Setter Geto Suguru slapped the table, howling. “Nah, stop it. THE Captain Ryomen Sukuna? Mister ‘I’ll spike a volleyball through your face if you breathe wrong?’ Are you sure?”

“I’m serious!” you laughed. “He even told them he had a job that already pays well and that his parents wouldn’t mind me moving in with them!”

Middle Blocker Nanami Kento choked on his drink, covering his mouth with a fist. “There’s no way this is real. There’s….There’s just really no way we’re talking about the same guy, senpai.”

Fellow Middle Blocker Fushiguro Megumi blinked, his brain visibly glitching. “The same Sukuna who made us do suicide drives on the balls he spikes because Yuuji said practice was ‘lowkey chill’?”

“Yes! I'm very serious about how this happened, guys!” you grinned.

Libero Itadori Yuuji was face down on the table, banging his fist. He was trying not to laugh, but all the same failing with great effort. “I can’t breathe! I’m so….I’m so sorry, senpai! This… this is ridiculous! Captain gave a Ted Talk on responsible boyfriend duties?”

“And he ended it with, ‘I hope that clears things up.’ Like he was closing a business meeting!” you said, nearly wheezing. “I really wish our phones today were there for recording. I would have avoided the trouble of not being believed!”

Suguru wiped tears from his eyes. “Bro, this is it. This is damn good soup. Amazing poetry. We gotta frame this, oh my god.”

“I’m making it our new team motto, guys!” Satoru declared between gasps. “Right before every match—‘I LOVE YOUR DAUGHTER AND I’LL ALWAYS LIVE FOR HER!’”

Megumi groaned loudly, head in his hands. “This is my nightmare. I should have joined another team, this is horrible.”

Meanwhile, Captain Ryomen Sukuna hadn’t flinched once, calmly stirring his hotpot like this was all beneath him. He slurped some noodles, glanced up, and deadpanned, “You’re all idiots.”

“That’s Mr. Idiot to you, Captain.” Satoru quipped.

Suguru grinned wickedly. “We’re getting matching shirts. I think we still have an afterparty budget, no? It would be great practice shirts! The tagline in bold has to be like ‘Property of the Captain: Loves Someone’s Daughter, Lives for Her.’”

“Shut the hell up, Geto. You’re so annoying!” Sukuna muttered, jabbing at the hotpot with his chopsticks.

“C’mon, my love. This is really great, no?” you teased sweetly.

His chopsticks froze mid-air. Slowly, he turned his head, glaring at you with the heat of a thousand serves. “You’re walking home later.” he deadpanned.

“Don’t worry, senpai!” Satoru cackled, looking at Sukuna and winked. “I’ll give you a ride—to help out my love here!”

The entire table exploded into chaos as Sukuna sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was already regretting even arranging the afterparty. And most of all, letting all of you be friends and letting them rub off even more sly behaviour to you.

“You’re all getting extra laps tomorrow. And you’ll have to run faster! Or you’ll get benched for the next practice match with Kyoto!” he grumbled, but there was a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

The current threat caused the entire team scattered about in the restaurant in various tables to erupt in groans. At the very least no one was looking at them weird, the whole restaurant was rented. But the chaos ensued, people standing up and arguing that practice should be cancelled tomorrow since you just won.

Everything was practically in shambles, with Yuuji sliding halfway off his chair, still gasping for breath, still laughing. He was the only one still, besides Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru. Of course that’s to be expected. Itadori Yuuji seemed to be certainly not human with his records.

“Bro, Captain.” he wheezed, pointing shakily at Sukuna, still laughing. “The mental image of you standing there, barefoot, saying ‘I love your daughter and I’ll live for her’— I’m done. I’m tapping out. It’s so corny."

“Straight to the history books, Cap!” Suguru added, wiping tears from his eyes. “Future captains need to hear this legend. Seriously.”

“Coach is gonna cry laughing when he hears about this. I can’t believe he missed this because of a phone call.” Satoru snickered. “Imagine the look on his face when we put it on our team banner.”

He stood, mimicking a grand reveal. “‘National University Varsity Volleyball Champions! Their motto? We Love Your Daughter and We’ll Live For Her!’”

“You know what…..Let’s just not have shame, at this point. Put it on the team jackets, on the tumblers. On the balls. Just put it on there. Everything!” Megumi groaned, his head in his hands. Nanami Kento pours him a cup of sake. “Might as well go all the way.”

“Shut it, Fushiguro.” Sukuna muttered darkly, stabbing a piece of tofu as though it owed him money. “None of you are funny.”

“Oh, but my love, we are!” Satoru teased, leaning in with a mischievous grin.

Sukuna slammed his chopsticks down with a loud clack. “I don’t care what the coach says tomorrow. We have practice tomorrow. Three hours. No breaks.”

The table collectively gasped.

You snickered under your cup of sake.

Sukuna remains unfazed about it all.

“Captain, please don't do this!” Yuuji begged suddenly, his bright eyes widened. “I have weak joints!”

“You’re built like a tank, and you were laughing about this like you don’t have an issue with it. So stand proud, Itadori.” Sukuna deadpanned, continuing to eat hotpot. “Suck it up.”

“You know this is just making it worse, right?” you whispered to him, grinning.

He gave you a flat look. “You’re definitely walking home.”

“I’ll take you home, senpai—” Satoru happily chirped.

Sukuna’s eye twitched. “Shut up before I spike your face, Gojo.”

Nanami Kento, who had been quietly sipping his sake throughout the madness, finally sighed. “Honestly, I think it’s romantic.” he said with a shrug.

Everyone froze, stunned.

You almost choked on your next cup of sake.

“Nanami Kento.” Suguru said slowly, snickering as he drank. “Did you just say something sappy?”

“I’ve had a long day, okay? I’m crashing out, let me be.” Nanami muttered, looking vaguely ashamed. Just as Fushiguro had earlier. Fushiguro Megumi refills his senpai’s cup. “And the booze isn’t helping. God damn it.”

The laughter and the badgering started all over again, louder and more chaotic than before. Sukuna, despite his threats, couldn’t entirely hide the faint smirk tugging at his lips. Leaning toward you, he muttered under his breath. You turned your heat at him, meeting his warm eyes.

“If they don’t shut up, I’m taking this hotpot home and eating it alone.”

You laughed, nudging his shoulder. “It’s okay, my love. You’ll live for me, right?”

He groaned. “You’re never gonna let that go, are you?”

“Never, lover boy.” you grinned.

He could only sigh as you leaned against him, happily looking at everyone being passionate in arguing against practice tomorrow once again. You giggled as you started to talk with them again. And in that rowdy, absurd, chaotic moment surrounded by chaos, Ryomen Sukuna realized—he wouldn’t have it any other way.

This is life worth living, after all.

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novacorpsrecruit · 3 days ago

Text

It’s lonely at the top

Part 1 | part 2 | here / final part

Read on Ao3

wc 1,698 | Steddie | angst with a happy ending!

“You need to give him some space,” Robin said over the phone. Eddie frowned. It’s been three days. He missed Steve. He nearly leaped over the couch to answer the phone, assuming it was him. Robin was the next best, he guessed. “You really hurt him.”

“I know,” Eddie said. “And I’m sorry. I really am. Will you tell him I’m done with the parties? Done with Trick? He means more to me than being liked.”

“Yeah,” Robin huffed. “You sure showed him that.”

“I mean it,” Eddie said honestly. “I do. I’m done with it all.”

“I think you need to tell him that yourself,” Robin said.

“How can I?” Eddie asked. “You won’t let me talk to him.”

“He doesn’t want to talk to you,” Robin corrected. “You need to let him be ready to accept you.”

Eddie sighed, pressing his forehead against the cabinet where the phone hung. He wished there was a way to tell Steve how sorry he was. As much as Eddie wanted to take the Green line to Robin’s dorm and talk to Steve, he can’t cross that boundary. But he needed a way to pour out his emotions, to let Steve know that he’s loved. That Eddie’s sorry. “Can I — Can I send him a letter? That way when he’s ready, he knows I’m there for him?”

There was silence on the other line as Robin thought it over. “Yeah, okay,” she said. “Just address it to me. He’s not …”

“Supposed to be there,” Eddie nodded. “Yeah. I figured. Thank you, for being there for him.”

“Yeah. Look,” Robin huffed. “If he does let you back in again, and you fuck up again. It’s your balls, Munson.”

“Understood,” Eddie said. “I promise. Never again.”

Robin hung up with a click. Eddie sighed, running his hands over his face. He fucked up. Bad.

He guessed there was no time to start writing like the present.

💌💌💌💌

“Steve, someone at table 13 requested you personally,” Jenny, the hostess said. “He’s — uh — a little scary. So if you have issues, get Rod.”

“Thanks, Jenny,” Steve said, pulling his order book from his apron. He wasn’t sure who would request him at 3 pm. Most of his early birds on Saturdays stop by the diner for brunch and he barely saw a soul until 5.

When they first moved out to Chicago, Steve had no clue what he was going to do for work. He was attending Harold Washington College to get his associates in early education, and then potentially apply to UIC. Then one day, he got off a stop too early and saw the help wanted sign. It was easy for him to pick up, he made decent tips, and it worked with his schedule well. Plus, he was able to take home food at the end of his shift.

Robin’s been enjoying the pancakes lately.

Plus, Steve loved when it was slow and Eddie would —

He closed his eyes, letting the thought disappear. He missed Eddie. His heart ached any time he thought about him. But he was afraid that Eddie didn’t miss him in the same way.

He took a deep breath and plastered on a fake smile as he greeted his table.

“Hi, welcome in. I’m Steve. I’ll be taking care —“ Steve stopped as he looked at the patron. He felt his lips turn into a frown. “Trick?”

“Patrick’s fine,” Trick winked. “I mean, we’re in your court, aren’t we?”

“Yeah, sure,” Steve nodded. He pressed his lips together, feeling like he couldn’t stop staring at the black and blue circles under his eyes. “What happened to your — uh —“ he gestured to his own face. He winced. Trick didn’t like him in the first place. He wouldn’t give Steve the time of day. Why would he bother to tell him about an injury like that. “Sorry — shouldn’t have asked that. What can I get started for you?”

“Your boyfriend, actually,” Trick smirked. It was like ice water was dumped over Steve as the words washed over him. Trick’s smirk dropped. He leaned over the table. His voice dropped to a whisper. “Hey — hey, sorry. I didn’t mean — It’s cool. It’s — Eddie and you — are cool, I mean.”

Steve wasn’t sure if he felt any better or worse. All he could say was, “Oh.”

“Yeah, uh —“ Trick ran his fingers over his buzzed hair and exhaled. “Half of our friends are gay or lesbian or queer. It’s — that’s fine. Promise.”

“Oh,” Steve repeated. He sat on the other side of the booth, across from Trick. “Okay.”

“I just —“ Trick looked up to the ceiling before turning his attention back to Steve. “We shouldn’t have judged you. We saw you and immediate thought you were gonna be some straight jackass like we’ve dealt with our whole lives. We built this community of accepting outcasts, and outcasted you while doing so.”

Oh.

Steve wasn’t sure what to think.

When Eddie and him started to date, the Corroded Coffin boys treated him similarly. But Eddie called them out on that before it got bad.

Before it got like this.

“I guess what I wanted to say was sorry,” Trick said. “For pushing you out. And name calling.”

Steve furrowed his brow. “I don’t recall any name calling?”

“Yeah, you weren’t around for that,” Trick winced, gesturing to his nose. “Eddie made sure I knew that was wrong.”

“Eddie,” Steve breathed. “My Eddie?”

“Yep,” Trick said. “I hope he gave you a big apology for everything. So, tell me. What do you got that’s good to eat here?”

Steve took Trick’s order — one strawberry milkshake and an order of fruit loaded French toast — sent it to the kitchen, then went into the bathroom. He shut the door behind him and pulled out Eddie’s letter from his apron pocket. The first letter arrived last Monday. And he received a letter every day that he’s stayed with Robin.

With a shaky breath, Steve opened the letter.

💌💌💌💌

Dear Steve, there’s nothing in the world that I can do to make this up to you. But I will try every day to make sure that you don’t ever forgotten again. You are the stars that light my way home, the sun that brings warmth into my light, and the moon that shines love over me. To experience your love is something truly unreal. And to think I put you on the back burner for a taste of popularity? It was like the Ring of Power overtook my mind. I got lost in the feeling of being admired by many, I forgot what it’s like to be loved by one. I’d travel to Mordor and back for you. Through the Gap of Rohan and through the Mines of Mora.

In a world where everyone could know my name, I’d only want to know yours.

My apologies will never be enough. Love, Eddie

💌💌💌💌

I hope you are well. I hope your classes are going good and that you’re excelling. I know you are. You’re so fucking smart, you blow me away with every new piece of knowledge you brought home. I hope that basketball at the YMCA is going good. I’m sorry I missed your last couple of games. There is no excuse. I hope one day you’d allow me to be by your side again, cheering you on.

You deserve the world, baby. Nothing will stop me from showing you that. Everything from the water in the rivers to the trees in the forest. From the canyons in Arizona to the mountains in Colorado. It’s yours. It’s all yours. You deserve everything. You deserve the best. And I promise that I will prove that.

Forever in love, Eddie

💌💌💌💌

I’d move heaven and hell

Just to see you smile again

Or remember how it felt

To have you in my arms

When I begged God for mercy

In the depth of hells

It was nothing compared

To begging for the mercy of you

To hear you laugh, to see you smile

To counting the stars across your skin

To pick up where we left off

To start all over again

I’d move heaven and hell for you

💌💌💌💌

Steve folded the letters, slipping them back into the envelope and set them on his nightstand.

He laid back down, turning to his side. Eddie’s side of the bed was empty. Like it has been for four days.

After Steve read the first letter, he found his way back to their apartment. Eddie was hope and nearly wrapped his arms around Steve, stopping as if there was an invisible barrier in between them. Eddie stopped, respecting that boundary at the threshold.

It was Steve to crack.

Steve who took that step over the threshold and fell into Eddie’s arms, burying his face into Eddie’s neck. Eddie wrapped his arms around Steve, holding him tight. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” was all Eddie could say.

They agreed they needed to slowly integrate back into each others’ lives. Communicate when they’re feeling alone and listen when one’s feeling distressed. Nightmares seemed easier to deal with, but they were going to work it through.

Eddie said he would sleep on the couch until Steve was ready for him. “No matter how long it takes, sweetheart,” Eddie said, pressing a kiss against Steve’s knuckles. “When you’re ready for me, I’m here.”

And Eddie truly meant that. They could go back to just friends and Eddie would accept it. He would be heartbroken, but to have Steve in his life again?

That’s worth everything to Eddie.

Eddie was jostled awake, feeling the couch cushion shift underneath him. The blanket on his body lifted up and a familiar weight settle on his chest. He felt at home again. Eddie tugged the blanket back over the both of them, one hand around Steve’s waist and the other tangled in his hair as Steve laid his head on Eddie’s chest. Eddie pressed a kiss to Steve’s temple, taking a silent vow to never lose him again.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

#stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #steddie fic #//myfic

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hasufin · 3 days ago

Text

I'd also point out, it highlights how incredible idiotic they are.

If you understand American foreign policy, you rapidly realize that:

We never give shit away for free

It's always terrifyingly exploitative

It's always profitable to America

It supports an incredibly powerful empire

Let me explain. My favorite in this is the billions in military aid we give even to untrustworthy countries. You may ask "Why in the ever-loving fuck do we essentially give F-35 fighters to Saudi Arabia? They don't like us. Some of the Saud family are actual fucking monsters. Hell, the 9/11 terrorists were mostly Saudi." And you'd be right. But Saudi Arabia is a client state which is completely beholden to the USA.

Much the way Iran was in the 70s. Iran was given US-made F-16 fighters. They were very impressive craft, extremely effective, and pushing the envelope of technology at the time. With US military hardware, Iran had one of the most powerful militaries in the region. And after the Shah's government fell, the Islamic Republic of Iran promptly got in a war with the Soviet-backed Iraq. And this showcased the difference between American and Soviet military support. The Iranii absolutely kicked Iraqi ass... for about two weeks. Which was the point where those fancy-ass Tomcats started needed replacement hardware which Iran did not have. And because Iran was a hostile country to the USA, America wouldn't give or sell them what they needed (setting aside the Iran-Contra affair for not). The war stalled. Having lost the ability to maintain air superiority, Iran had to resort to human wave infantry attacks: wearing out machine guns with the chests of young men.

Over the course of the next decade, one young million Iranii men died in that war. A war which would have ended with Iran's flag over Baghdad in two months if they'd had American support.

Iran had a powerful military, but the USA held the strings. That's why the US government buys military hardware from US companies to give to other countries. So our allies are powerful, but they need us in order to be powerful.

USAID exists as an exercise in soft power. It was created as a counter to Soviet efforts, and it has been very successful. It means that when the USA wants to establish a base in some country, they're willing to talk, and give decent terms. It also means that places where immigrants would have to leave, are not quite so awful: which, you know, reduces the immigration republicans claim to care so much about.

None of this stuff is free, it all supports the US Hegemony. And while I have deep concerns about that, I think that the idiots in control right now just don't have any idea what they're doing and simply get angry at seeing someone else being given things.

The cruelty of racist white men.

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rafesangelita · 18 hours ago

Text

♡ deciding to take a ride on the ‘tunnel of love’ roller coaster at the annual valentine’s day fair, rafe happens to catch you before it starts, conveniently locking himself in next to you. annoyed, you tell yourself you’ll be out and away from the man once the ride is over but (un)luckily for you, it just so happens to break down, leaving you two stuck together until it’s fixed..

warnings: one sided enemies to lovers (reader is the one who can’t stand rafe lol), forced proximity, teasing, flirty banter, slight angst (just a teeny tiny bit, it’s literally almost nonexistent), light fluff

a/n: now presenting… ‘TUNNEL OF LOVE’ 🤍 my town just so happens to be having a valentine’s day fair.. maybe (hopefully) i’ll go!

link: VALENTINE’S DAY CELEBRATION ໒꒰ྀི｡- ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১

wc: 1.4k

[7:57 PM] bestie ♡: it looks like kelce is going to take me out for v-day after all!! don’t wait for me, i’ll catch up soon, promise!

you had just bought an extra large funnel cake for you and your best friend to share when you read her text, your sugary sweet smile faltering as you took a seat at a nearby bench. “more for me, i guess..” you sighed, feeling a little bit silly at the fact that you sat here by yourself when everyone who passed you by was either in a group setting or hand in hand with someone who was most likely their significant other.

you picked at the fried goodness, not really feeling as festive as you were just two minutes ago. “yo, y/n!” you recognized the voice before you even looked up, your eyes immediately rolling as none other than rafe ‘insufferable daddy’s money’ cameron made his way over to you. ‘please let this be quick..’ you whispered under your breath, not sparing the man a single glance as he plopped down ridiculously close to you.

“what do you want, rafe?” he smiled when he heard his name roll off of your tongue, his muscular arm draping across your shoulders as his mouth dropped next to your ear. “can you at least act like you could tolerate me?” you scoffed, shrugging him off. “no, i can’t,” you finally looked at him, “because even that is too difficult to do.” he swallowed thickly, feeling slightly defeated before he went for the funnel cake that sat in your lap.

“i’m really not that bad, i’ll make you realize that soon.” rafe was also too confident and cocky for your liking— more reasons you could add to your seemingly never ending list as to why you think you two would never work out.

“i highly doubt that.” rafe was licking powdered sugar off of his fingers when you met his gaze again, your eyes flickering down to his tongue. the one thing that you couldn’t put on your list was that he wasn’t hot. anyone with eyes can tell you that rafe was insanely attractive, but of course, you’d never admit that to him out loud.. or so you thought. “you’re staring.” he smiled when he saw that your eyes stayed trained on his mouth, a smug expression taking over his features.

you blinked away, deciding you had enough chit-chat for one night. “in your dreams, ‘cameron.” rafe watched you get up from your seat, gladly taking the funnel cake you basically shoved into his hands. “why, thank you.” he took another piece, popping it into his mouth. you flashed him a fake smile before adjusting the strap of your crossbody purse. “i’ll see you around!” he called out, waving obnoxiously in your direction. “no you won’t!” you whispered to yourself, deciding to explore the fair a bit more.

little did you know conversation between you and rafe was far from over.

you walked around the fair grounds for almost fifteen more minutes before you had decided you were better off at home eating some greasy takeout and having a rom-com movie marathon in nothing but your comfy pj’s.

just as you were on your way to the exit, a flashing heart with the words ‘TUNNEL OF LOVE.. find your lover inside!’ caught your attention. deciding you’d at least inquire about it, you walked up to the ride operator and asked away. “excuse me! hi, i was just wondering what does the whole ‘find your lover inside!’ thing mean?” the woman lit up as if she had been dying to answer this question.

“so basically there’s another roller coaster coming from the other side, and once you two meet inside, the ride will stop for two minutes before coming back out to the respective entrances.” she explained. “so it’s like speed dating?” you smiled, the idea enthralling you. “yeah, that’s exactly it!” she nodded. you weighed out your options and decided a little excitement wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

“i’m suprised you don’t have a line, how much is it to get on?” you took your wallet out of your purse as she replied. “if you have a full-access wristband it’s free, but if not then it’ll be five dollars exactly.” you handed over the small bill, smiling to yourself as she let you through the metal gate. “it looks like two people can fit in here—” just as you stepped in, rafe came running from the opposite direction.

“stop the ride!” he shouted, his chest rising and falling as he bent over to catch his breath. you blinked. “it’s not even on, you drama queen.” taking a seat, you were about to pull the metal bar over your lap before he shouted again. “i’ll give you fifty bucks if you let me get on with her!” you crossed your arms over your chest, not expecting the ride operator to actually let him in. “seriously?!” you gasped when he walked through, flashing you a wink.

“sorry!” she pushed the guardrail over you and rafe until it locked in place before starting the ride. “this will all be over in two minutes.” you glared at him, trying to scoot as many centimeters away from him as you could. “that’s fine with me.” he shrugged. he leaned back in the cart, red and pink flashing lights illuminating the space in which you two rolled into slowly.

rafe kept his eyes on you, watching as you avoided his gaze. “why don’t you like me? serious question..” you sighed, finally giving him your full undivided attention. you opened your mouth to speak but no words came out. “what?” you acted like you didn’t hear him the first time, wracking your brain for any kind of answer. he smiled teasingly, pointing a finger at you. “i asked you why you don’t like me and you can’t even answer me!” you waved him off, facing the other way to hide the smile on your lips.

truthfully, you didn’t really know who rafe was. like just by himself as an individual. you knew that his friends were all assholes though, including the one who your best friend was willing to drop everything for. “i hate your friends,” you started, “and you are who you keep company with, sooo..” rafe cleared his throat as the roller coaster came to a stop. the inside of the ‘love tunnel’ was lit up with baby cherubs along the walls, red hearts and fairy lights adorning the interior.

“me and my friends are very different from each other.. i think you’d be surprised.” you hummed, adjusting the pendant on your necklace. “maybe..” the other roller coaster cart strolled in from the other side, the seats empty. “i guess it’s a good thing that i tagged along, since you would’ve been all by yourself if i didn’t.”

you glanced over at him, his blue eyes standing out in the pinkish lighting. “..yeah, i guess.” rafe’s head shot up as soon as the words left your mouth. “you really think so?” he scooted closer, the action making you laugh. “don’t push it.” you warned him, in which he held his hands up defensively. “okay, okay!” rafe had this smitten look on his face as if making you smile was his life’s greatest achievement.

“so you told me why you didn’t like me, which is fair, but i want a real chance at proving you wrong. can you at least give me that?” rafe hesitantly rested a hand on your knee, the hopeful look in his eyes making your heart melt into a soft puddle of mush. “hmm..” you pretended to think, the anticipation making rafe’s leg bounce. “okay. only under one condition though..” rafe nodded frantically.

“anything.”

“tell me why you like me so much when i avoid you like the plague, and never seemingly look in your direction.. like ever.” the man next to you snorted. “you want me to go down my full list? ‘cause we’ll be sitting here all night—” just then, the ride operator’s voice boomed through the intercom speakers from inside the tunnel. “hi, i’m so sorry for the inconvenience, but we’re having some technical difficulties and my electrician guy says it’ll be at least an hour or two before you could leave. i promise to issue a full refund once you two are off.”

you and rafe looked at each other half concerned and half amused. “..so, you were saying?”

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littelovelunette · 23 hours ago

Note

Sevika with reader who like talks back too much or maybe wears a dress she told you not to cause it’s too showy so she drags them home and bends her over her knee cane makes the reader count them 💕💕😩 (I let ovulation day me write this my bad)

I get you baby I get you I feel like I'm ovulating 24/7 haha that's why I'm writing so much smut, check out the pinned post and touch yourself mwah thank me later

Red Handprints

Content warning: Mild smut (?), spanking, brat tamer Sevika

Today morning when you finished shower and was picking out some clothes to wear, you started holding up all your cute little dainty dresses to see which one seemed better for the day. But just as you held up a mini dress, Sevika let out a quiet, "Nuh-uh."

She grabbed the hanger of the dress, taking it out of your hands and putting it back into the closet. "You wanna get harassed by goons or something?" She raised a brow, taking a deep inhale of the cigarette before she exhaled it through her nose. "Just looking out for ya'."

"Thanks, but I'm not a kid," you retorted with a fuckass grin and that made Sevika's jaw tighten, you could see the veins of her neck rise a little but she bit back her mean words, swallowing down her anger.

"Don't let me catch you wearing that. You might as well go outside naked," Sevika rolled her eyes mumbling as she walked out, probably for work.

She didn't appreciate you mouthing her off so she didn't bother even saying a simple goodbye.

You smirked a little, "Mission accomplished," you hummed to yourself and giggled before you walked back to the closet, taking the small dress out anyway.

You'd wear it, not just to show off your curves but to ruffle Sevika's feather. And you'd make sure you go into Last Drop so you don't show off too much or seem disloyal, just messing with her a bit.

The bar was a little crowded as you walked inside, you could see her playing poker with the other henchmen.

Her eyes immediately locked onto yours as she gave you a once over, her lips pursing in disappointment.

She got up, throwing some cash onto the table and walked upto you, grabbing your neck, "What do you think you're doing?" Sevika whisper-yelled at you, the scene rof tobacco and alcohol filling your nostrils.

"What?" You feigned innocence.

Sevika, not wanting to cause a scene, picked you up, wrapping you with her poncho, "You're basically in a bikini," she whispered again, as she led you out of the bar.

"Geez, okay, mother," you replied in a taunting tone which Sevika didn't take lightly.

"Apologise," she said, her voice had a final tone but you held your tongue this time before an idea sparked in your brain.

"Make me!" You said, knowing she'd fuck some sense into you.

Well, that's how you ended up over her lap, crying. Sevika smacked a big hand over your ass again.

"I'm starting over. You messed up your counting," Sevika said, pausing before smacking your ass again.

You howled in pain, burying your face in the sheets, red ass perched up by a pillow over her lap, "O-one..."

Sevika slapped your ass again, the smack echoing in your shared bedroom, "Two.."

Sevika continued spanking your ass, each slap harder than the other and she didn't seem like she'd stop anytime soon, not even when you were gasping for air, sobbing loudly.

She seemed to enjoy it, even taunting you through it. Sevika's hand came down in a harsh slap again, "T-t-... Twenty," you croaked and she positioned you on the bed, ass hovering in the air.

"Stay like that, reflect," She walked off to sit down at the edge of the bed as she watched your red ass pushed up, head in the pillows as you cried in pain quietly.

Seviak took out a cigarette, lighting it and taking a good inhale, "Think next time before you decide to be a brat."

#arcane #sevika #sevika arcane #sevika my love #arcane sevika #sevika i love you #sevika is my wife #sevika is so much more then a henchman #sevika x reader #wlw #sevika my wife #sevika lol #sevika league of legends #sevika sevika sevika #sevika supremacy #sevika save me #sevika smut #sevika tag

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plainclothesdisaster · 2 days ago

Text

“What the hell am I looking at.”

Batman stands next to him, arms folded, appraising the same piece of plain notebook paper on the table. To the untrained eye it looks like someone has scrawled a handful of shitty doodles and notes on it. But to John Constantine’s eye? Well, he was thanking his very limited lucky stars that he didn’t have a personal encounter with whatever god or demon that had given that paper to Bats in the first place.

Batman frowns. “I don’t know. That’s what you’re here for.”

“And if I told you I don’t want to touch whatever this is with a ten foot pole?”

Batman points to a green sticky note stuck on the paper’s bottom corner.

Call the Hellblazer if you need a tutorial.

Well, fuck. So much for flying under the radar.

“So. You know what it is.” Bats says it as a statement not a question, which is, of course, accurate. John knew what it was before Batman even led him to the black table at the center of the Batcave, where the paper sat in the center like some delicate work of art. The whole cave smacked of ozone and ectoplasm from the second he walked in. It’s positively filled with potential energy on a cosmic scale, emanating from that single, annoyingly unassuming source.

“That,” John starts, resenting the no-smoking-in-the-Batcave rule now more than ever, “Is a summoning sigil. A very powerful summoning sigil. How in hell did you end up with it?”

Bats hands him yet another green sticky note. This one reads:

Use in cases of: Mind control, literal apocalypse (ONLY if my fault). That’s it. Nothing else. If you do I will know and I will permanently turn off the gravity in the Watchtower as payback.

Thought I’d save you the trouble of making my file yourself.

-D

P.S. No spoilers, John. :)

Bats re-folds his arms. “It was given to me by a coworker.”

It’s a contingency plan, John realizes. One of Batman’s trademark ideas that piss everyone off but he does anyway. Usually the League Members didn’t personally and willingly hand over their personal kryptonite, though. John certainly hadn’t. And there’s also the issue that most Leaguers kryptonite isn’t this powerful.

“Care to enlighten me which of your coworkers is on a first name basis with the Ancient of Time?”

“Hn.”

“Not ringing any bells? How about this then: which Leaguer is strong enough that their contingency plan is giving you the personal calling card of a god?”

“He knows you.”

And John is just so thrilled that two of his names showed up in the context of god-summoning. So neat for him. Not problematic in the slightest. What’s only slightly less problematic is that he doesn’t know who wrote the notes- none of the current Justice League members fit the bill. Not that he’s ever been good at keeping up with the cape parade, but he would have known if something this powerful stepped this close to his territory.

Unless…

“When you say coworker, what exactly do you mean?”

“Does it matter?”

“You don’t typically make contingency plans for non JL members.”

“He values his privacy.”

Not a member of the Justice League, then. Powerful enough to hide in plain sight and also have an Ancient on speed dial. Self aware enough to deliver this nuclear option of a contingency plan.

John knows who it is.

The only question left is why the fuck Batman has the Ancient of Space, King of all Ghosts, on his maintenance staff.

But he won’t ask that, because according to that cheeky little sticky note, Batman didn’t know. And John is not about to piss off an Ancient by spoiling his gig.

“Well Bats. If you end up needing to use it you just prick your finger, touch the circle, and say that bit of Latin there.” He waves his fingers at the scribbles, still unwilling to get any closer. “But I hope for all our sakes that you never need it.”

“And why’s that?”

John resists rolling his eyes. He doesn’t resist the urge to grab a cigarette and put it between his lips. He’s not planning on sticking around much longer anyways. “Because if you do, it means we’re fucked. Like, cosmically.”

Batman glares at the cigarette but decides not to comment.

“Look mate I don’t want to get involved in your hiring practices, but have you considered background checks?”

“I trust him.”

“I should hope so.”

John sighs. He can feel a headache coming on. Batman didn’t just hand out his trust willy-nilly, so the king in disguise must have done something to earn it. It’s not much solace, but he’ll take it.

DPxDC Mechanical Engineer Danny

Danny caught the attention of Batman while studying at Gotham University for his alternative energy projects. He’s hired right out of college to work on the Watchtower.

He shows absolutely no tell of his abilities till there’s a dire situation- Flash’s electric discharge messes with one of his projects in progress and the whole base would have lost air pressure if he hadn’t done a quick fix using telekinesis and ice.

Of course Batman notices.

Batman assumes the worst- he suspects Danny’s a rogue of some kind, someone who has infiltrated the Justice League with an ulterior motive. But he can’t just fire Danny now- he’s the only one who knows how the new Watchtower energy source works. Plus, he’s not letting Danny go anywhere until he’s figured out his true motives.

Cue Batman subtly testing Danny- tossing things at him to trigger inhuman fast reflexes, having him lift too-heavy machinery, setting up convenient opportunities to steal or snoop or otherwise be up to no good. Danny does take advantage but only once, to use a computer terminal with unlocked clearance. He didn’t plant any bugs that Barman could find, and he otherwise kept up his powerless civilian act perfectly.

Still, Batman’s not satisfied. He brings an infrasonic sound emitter to Danny’s lab one day, and that, of all things, is what gets Danny to break.

“I know what you’re doing,” Danny admits with a sigh, finally. “If you’re really that suspicious of me, I can leave, but I kinda like my job so I’d prefer not to. The benefits are insane compared to what’s standard.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure. yeah. How about you turn off the freaking noise generator and we can talk?”

“Hm.” Batman obliges, and he takes the stool next to Danny at his gesture.

“Number one, I’m not a meta. Despite all the data and conclusions you’ve probably drawn otherwise. Number two, I’m on your side. I’m here to work on the base, that’s it. I follow your rules to the letter.”

“The-“

“The classified files I looked at? Yeah that was the one exception. You already know what I looked at, I’m sure, but maybe you haven’t figured out why. It goes back to point one- I may not be a meta, but I am something that organization, the GIW, cares about. I looked at your files on them to sus out your relations. Seeing as I don’t particularly love being the victim to twelve degrees of human rights violations if I can avoid it.”

“Hm.” The Ghost Intelligence Ward was one of many government agencies that the Justice League hadn’t worked closely with. But they also hadn’t been flagged for Justice League investigation. Danny’s comments made him doubt that call.

“Any other questions?”

“If you’re not a meta, what are you?”

“I’m an engineer. A pretty decent one. And I’d really, really like it to stay that way.”

Batman considers, and ultimately lets him stay. He likes Danny (everyone likes Danny), and it would be a massive pain in the ass to replace him. He really is a good engineer.

It’s only much later that his faith in Danny is repaid in spades.

Batman finds Danny on the Watchtower command bridge. Alarms are blaring, the station has been knocked out of orbit, out the window there’s shrapnel floating everywhere as a space battle rages around them.

On the station it’s chaos. Technicians run around, shouts from the med bay, sparks from the walls.

Batman and Danny stand at the main controls, watching the battle outside, stoic, unmoving.

Wonder Woman’s harried voice crackles through on coms: “We need backup.”

“There is no more backup.” Batman replies, while looking pointedly at Danny.

“What?”

Batman doesn’t move.

“What.”

“The impact from Darkseid’s initial attack should have sent this station on a terminal trajectory toward the planet.”

“Well. We aren’t currently plummeting to our deaths, so turns out it didn’t do that.”

“You did something.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re lying.”

“Maybe Superman nudged us back on course in all the chaos.”

“I’ve been watching the trackers. No one else with the capability has come near the station.”

“Can’t you just be grateful we got lucky?”

Sounds of peril screech over the coms. Danny’s face scrunches.

“Luck had nothing to do with it. As it is now, we are going to lose this fight.”

“Isn’t there anyone else you can call?”

“I’m asking you. You can help, can’t you?”

The glare-off lasts a long moment more before Danny breaks.

“Fuck. Fuckity fuck.” Danny runs his hands through his hair. “Shit. You don’t know what you’re asking.”

“I’m asking you to save this and countless other worlds from a genocide. I’m also asking you to save my friends.”

Danny looks at him, hard, weary, and with a kind of deep resolve that feels far too ancient to be on the face of a supposed twenty-something.

“Fine. Fine. Okay.” He steps back and transforms. If Batman is surprised when he shakes off his human appearance like an old coat, he doesn’t show it. But what’s undeniable is the being in Danny’s place has the unmistakable presence of power.

“No one else can know.” His voice echoes in a way that’s sonically impossible, both sounding closer and further away than he should be.

He pulls a gear-shaped medallion seemingly out of thin air and puts it over his head in one motion.

“If I get in trouble for this, I’m blaming you.”

He vanishes. Outside, the shape of the battle changes instantly. The stars seem to glow brighter as the arms of the galaxy flash with the colors of the aurora. Then it’s like the void of space itself comes alive. It moves the spaceships back like they’re toys, plucking them from one side of the field to the other. It finds Darkseid at the heart of the chaos and massive arms of nothingness and darkness wrap around him. He’s screaming as it swallows him whole.

His armies scatter. The battle turns. The JL deal with the stragglers, but the air of relief is palpable.

Danny reappears next to Batman, once again donning his grease-stained coveralls. Arms folded.

“Happy?”

It took all of five minutes. Less, probably. Batman tamps down a thousand questions.

“Thank you.”

“I’m gonna need two weeks off minimum.” Danny snaps. “One to deal with the bureaucratic nightmare you’ve just caused me, and another to recover from the headache.”

Batman blanks. “Granted.”

Danny sighs. “And I’m not fixing the station until I’m back. It won’t fall out of the sky as is. Make up whatever excuse you want.”

“Done.” He considers. “I would prefer to tell them the truth. That you saved us.”

Danny glares. “I’m not supposed to save you. I made a pact not to use my power to influence the mortal realm.”

“A pact with who?”

Danny rolls his eyes. “The embodiment of Time. The concept of Justice. Among others.” He smirks at Batman’s confusion.

“And what, exactly, does that make you?”

He stands, framed by the space window, haloed by the stars. “I’ll give you three guesses.”

Batman frowns.

“Look. I like you guys. I like working on your base. I like supporting the work you do. But you can not go factoring me in to any of your plans or contingencies. This was a one time thing.

“So to answer your question again: I’m an engineer.”

#dp x dc #long post #of course I gotta get my scrunkly guy Constantine in here

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romerona · 1 day ago

Text

Ethera Operation!!

You're the government’s best hacker, but that doesn’t mean you were prepared to be thrown into a fighter jet.

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Awkward!Hacker! FemReader

Part I

This was never supposed to happen. Your role in this operation was simple—deliver the program, ensure it reached the right hands, and let the professionals handle the breaching.

And then, of course, reality decided to light that plan on fire.

The program—codenamed Ethera—was yours. You built it from scratch with encryption so advanced that even the most elite cyber operatives couldn’t crack it without your input. A next-generation adaptive, self-learning decryption software, an intrusion system designed to override and manipulate high-security military networks, Ethera was intended to be both a weapon and a shield, capable of infiltrating enemy systems while protecting your own from counterattacks in real-time. A ghost in the machine. A digital predator. A weapon in the form of pure code. If it fell into the wrong hands, it could disable fleets, and ground aircraft, and turn classified intelligence into an open book. Governments would kill for it. Nations could fall because of it.

Not that you ever meant to, of course. It started as a little experimental security measure program, something to protect high-level data from cyberattacks, not become the ultimate hacking tool. But innovation has a funny way of attracting the wrong kind of attention, and before you knew it, Ethera had become one, if not the most classified, high-risk program in modern times. Tier One asset or so the Secret Service called it.

It was too powerful, too dangerous—so secret that only a select few even knew of its existence, and even fewer could comprehend how it worked.

And therein lay the problem. You were the only person who could properly operate it.

Which was so unfair.

Because it wasn’t supposed to be your problem. You were just the creator, the brain behind the code, the one who spent way too many sleepless nights debugging this monstrosity. Your job was supposed to end at development. But no. Now, because of some bureaucratic nonsense and the fact that no one else could run it without accidentally bricking an entire system, you had been promoted—scratch that, forcibly conscripted—into field duty.

And your mission? To install it in an enemy satellite.

A literal, orbiting, high-security, military-grade satellite, may you add.

God. Why? Why was your country always at war with others? Why couldn’t world leaders just, you know, go to therapy like normal people? Why did everything have to escalate to international cyber warfare?

Which is how you ended up here.

At Top Gun. The last place in the world you wanted to be.

You weren’t built for this. You thrive in sipping coffee in a cosy little office and handling cyber threats from a safe, grounded location. You weren’t meant to be standing in the halls of an elite fighter pilot training program, surrounded by the best aviators in the world—people who thought breaking the sound barrier was a casual Wednesday.

It wasn’t the high-tech cyberwarfare department of the Pentagon, nor some dimly lit black ops facility where hackers in hoodies clacked away at keyboards. No. It was Top Gun. A place where pilots use G-forces like a personal amusement park ride.

You weren’t a soldier, you weren’t a spy, you got queasy in elevators, you got dizzy when you stood too fast, hell, you weren’t even good at keeping your phone screen from cracking.

... And now you were sweating.

You swallowed hard as Admiral Solomon "Warlock" Bates led you through the halls of the naval base, your heels clacking on the polished floors as you wiped your forehead. You're nervous, too damn nervous and this damned weather did not help.

"Relax, Miss," Warlock muttered in that calm, authoritative way of his. "They're just pilots."

Just pilots.

Right. And a nuclear warhead was just a firework.

And now, somehow, you were supposed to explain—loosely explain, because God help you, the full details were above even their clearance level—how Ethera, your elegant, lethal, unstoppable digital masterpiece, was about to be injected into an enemy satellite as part of a classified mission.

This was going to be a disaster.

You had barely made it through the doors of the briefing room when you felt it—every single eye in the room locking onto you.

It wasn’t just the number of them that got you, it was the intensity. These were Top Gun pilots, the best of the best, and they radiated the kind of confidence you could only dream of having. Meanwhile, you felt like a stray kitten wandering into a lion’s den.

Your hands tightened around the tablet clutched to your chest. It was your lifeline, holding every critical detail of Ethera, the program that had dragged you into this utterly ridiculous situation. If you could’ve melted into the walls, you absolutely would have. But there was no escaping this.

You just had to keep it together long enough to survive this briefing.

So, you inhaled deeply, squared your shoulders, and forced your heels forward, trying to project confidence—chin up, back straight, eyes locked onto Vice Admiral Beau "Cyclone" Simpson, who you’d been introduced to earlier that day.

And then, of course, you dropped the damn tablet.

Not a graceful drop. Not the kind of gentle slip where you could scoop it back up and act like nothing happened. No, this was a full-on, physics-defying fumble. The tablet flipped out of your arms, ricocheted off your knee, and skidded across the floor to the feet of one of the pilots.

Silence.

Pure, excruciating silence.

You didn’t even have the nerve to look up right away, too busy contemplating whether it was physically possible to disintegrate on command. But when you finally did glance up—because, you know, social convention demanded it—you were met with a sight that somehow made this entire disaster worse.

Because the person crouching down to pick up your poor, abused tablet was freaking hot.

Tall, broad-shouldered, with a head of golden curls that practically begged to be tousled by the wind, and, oh, yeah—a moustache that somehow worked way too well on him.

He turned the tablet over in his hands, inspecting it with an amused little smirk before handing it over to you. "You, uh… need this?"

Oh, great. His voice is hot too.

You grabbed it back, praying he couldn't see how your hands were shaking. “Nope. Just thought I’d test gravity real quick.”

A few chuckles rippled through the room, and his smirk deepened like he was enjoying this way too much. You, on the other hand, wanted to launch yourself into the sun.

With what little dignity you had left, you forced a quick, tight-lipped smile at him before turning on your heel and continuing forward, clutching your tablet like it was a life raft in the middle of the worst social shipwreck imaginable.

At the front of the room, Vice Admiral Beau Cyclone Simpson stood with the kind of posture that said he had zero time for nonsense, waiting for the room to settle. You barely had time to take a deep breath before his voice cut through the air.

“Alright, listen up.” His tone was crisp, commanding, and impossible to ignore. “This is Dr Y/N L/N. Everything she is about to tell you is highly classified. What you hear in this briefing does not leave this room. Understood?”

A chorus of nods. "Yes, sir."

You barely resisted the urge to physically cringe as every pilot in the room turned to stare at you—some with confusion, others with barely concealed amusement, and a few with the sharp assessing glances of people who had no clue what they were supposed to do with you.

You cleared your throat, squared your shoulders, and did your best to channel even an ounce of the confidence you usually had when you were coding at 3 AM in a secure, pilot-free lab—where the only judgment you faced was from coffee cups and the occasional system error.

As you reached the podium, you forced what you hoped was a composed smile. “Uh… hi, nice to meet you all.”

Solid. Real professional.

You glanced up just long enough to take in the mix of expressions in the room—some mildly interested, some unreadable, and one particular moustached pilot who still had the faintest trace of amusement on his face.

Nope. Not looking at him.

You exhaled slowly, centering yourself. Stay focused. Stay professional. You weren’t just here because of Ethera—you were Ethera. The only one who truly understood it. The only one who could execute this mission.

With another tap on your tablet, the slide shifted to a blacked-out, redacted briefing—only the necessary information was visible. A sleek 3D-rendered model of the enemy satellite appeared on the screen, rotating slowly. Most of its details were blurred or omitted entirely.

“This is Blackstar, a highly classified enemy satellite that has been operating in a low-Earth orbit over restricted airspace.” Your voice remained even, and steady, but the weight of what you were revealing sent a shiver down your spine. “Its existence has remained off the radar—literally and figuratively—until recently, when intelligence confirmed that it has been intercepting our encrypted communications, rerouting information, altering intelligence, and in some cases—fabricating entire communications.”

Someone exhaled sharply. Another shifted in their seat.

“So they’re feeding us bad intel?” one of them with big glasses and blonde hair asked, voice sceptical but sharp.

“That’s the theory,” you confirmed. “And given how quickly our ops have been compromised recently, it’s working.”

You tapped again, shifting to the next slide. The silent infiltration diagram appeared—an intricate web of glowing red lines showing Etherea’s integration process, slowly wrapping around the satellite’s systems like a virus embedding itself into a host.

“This is where Ethera comes in,” you said, shifting to a slide that displayed a cascading string of code, flickering across the screen. “Unlike traditional cyberweapons, Ethera doesn’t just break into a system. It integrates—restructuring security protocols as if it was always meant to be there. It’s undetectable, untraceable, and once inside, it grants us complete control of the Blackstar and won’t even register it as a breach.”

“So we’re not just hacking it," The only female pilot of the team said, arms crossed as she studied the data. “We’re hijacking it.”

“Exactly,” You nodded with a grin.

You switched to the next slide—a detailed radar map displaying the satellite’s location over international waters.

“This is the target area,” you continued after a deep breath. “It’s flying low-altitude reconnaissance patterns, which means it’s using ground relays for some of its communication. That gives us a small window to infiltrate and shut it down.”

The next slide appeared—a pair of unidentified fighter aircraft, patrolling the vicinity.

“And this is the problem,” you said grimly. “This satellite isn’t unguarded.”

A murmur rippled through the room as the pilots took in the fifth-generation stealth fighters displayed on the screen.

“We don’t know who they belong to,” you admitted. “What we do know is that they’re operating with highly classified tech—possibly experimental—and have been seen running defence patterns around the satellite’s flight path.”

Cyclone stepped forward then, arms crossed, his voice sharp and authoritative. “Which means your job is twofold. You will escort Dr L/N’s aircraft to the infiltration zone, ensuring Ethera is successfully deployed. If we are engaged, your priority remains protecting the package and ensuring a safe return.”

Oh, fantastic, you could not only feel your heartbeat in your toes, you were now officially the package.

You cleared your throat, tapping the screen again. Ethera’s interface expanded, displaying a cascade of sleek code.

“Once I’m in range,” you continued, “Ethera will lock onto the satellite’s frequency and begin infiltration. From that point, it’ll take approximately fifty-eight seconds to bypass security and assume control."

Silence settled over the room like a thick cloud, the weight of their stares pressing down on you. You could feel them analyzing, calculating, probably questioning who in their right mind thought putting you—a hacker, a tech specialist, someone whose idea of adrenaline was passing cars on the highway—into a fighter jet was a good idea.

Finally, one of the pilots—tall, broad-shouldered, blonde, and very clearly one of the cocky ones—tilted his head, arms crossed over his chest in a way that screamed too much confidence.

“So, let me get this straight.” His voice was smooth, and confident, with just the right amount of teasing. “You, Doctor—our very classified, very important tech specialist—have to be in the air, in a plane, during a mission that has a high probability of turning into a dogfight… just so you can press a button?”

Your stomach twisted at the mention of being airborne.

“Well…” You gulped, very much aware of how absolutely insane this sounded when put like that. “It’s… more than just that, but, yeah, essentially.”

A slow grin spread across his face, far too entertained by your predicament.

“Oh,” he drawled, “this is gonna be fun.”

Before you could fully process how much you already hated this, Cyclone—who had been watching the exchange with his signature unamused glare—stepped forward, cutting through the tension with his sharp, no-nonsense voice.

“This is a classified operation,” he stated, sharp and authoritative. “Not a joyride.”

The blonde’s smirk faded slightly as he straightened, and the rest of the pilots quickly fell in line.

Silence lingered for a moment longer before Vice Admiral Beau Cyclone Simpson let out a slow breath and straightened. His sharp gaze swept over the room before he nodded once.

“All right. That’s enough.” His tone was firm, the kind that left no room for argument. “We’ve got work to do. The mission will take place in a few weeks' time, once we’ve run full assessments, completed necessary preparations, and designated a lead for this operation.”

There was a slight shift in the room. Some of the pilots exchanged glances, the weight of the upcoming mission finally settling in. Others, mainly the cocky ones, looked as though they were already imagining themselves in the cockpit.

“Dismissed,” Cyclone finished.

The pilots stood, murmuring amongst themselves as they filed out of the room, the blonde one still wearing a smug grin as he passed you making you frown and turn away, your gaze then briefly met the eyes of the moustached pilot.

You hadn’t meant to look, but the moment your eyes connected, something flickered in his expression. Amusement? Curiosity? You weren’t sure, and frankly, you didn’t want to know.

So you did the only logical thing and immediately looked away and turned to gather your things. You needed to get out of here, to find some space to breathe before your brain short-circuited from stress—

“Doctor, Stay for a moment.”

You tightened your grip on your tablet and turned back to Cyclone, who was watching you with that unreadable, vaguely disapproving expression that all high-ranking officers seemed to have perfected. “Uh… yes, sir?”

Once the last pilot was out the door, Cyclone exhaled sharply and crossed his arms.

“You realize,” he said, “that you’re going to have to actually fly, correct?”

You swallowed. “I—well, technically, I’ll just be a passenger.”

His stare didn’t waver.

“Doctor,” he said, tone flat, “I’ve read your file. I know you requested to be driven here instead of taking a military transport plane. You also took a ferry across the bay instead of a helicopter. And I know that you chose to work remotely for three years to avoid getting on a plane.”

You felt heat rise to your cheeks. “That… could mean anything.”

“It means you do not like flying, am I correct?”

Your fingers tightened around the tablet as you tried to find a way—any way—out of this. “Sir, with all due respect, I don’t need to fly the plane. I just need to be in it long enough to deploy Ethera—”

Cyclone cut you off with a sharp look. “And what happens if something goes wrong, Doctor? If the aircraft takes damage? If you have to eject mid-flight? If you lose comms and have to rely on emergency protocols?”

You swallowed hard, your stomach twisting at the very thought of ejecting from a jet.

Cyclone sighed, rubbing his temple as if this entire conversation was giving him a migraine. “We cannot afford to have you panicking mid-mission. If this is going to work, you need to be prepared. That’s why, starting next week you will train with the pilots on aerial procedures and undergoing mandatory training in our flight simulation program.”

Your stomach dropped. “I—wait, what? That’s not necessary—”

“It’s absolutely necessary,” Cyclone cut in, his tone sharp. “If you can’t handle a simulated flight, you become a liability—not just to yourself, but to the pilots escorting you. And in case I need to remind you, Doctor, this mission is classified at the highest level. If you panic mid-air, it won’t just be your life at risk. It’ll be theirs. And it’ll be national security at stake.”

You inhaled sharply. No pressure. None at all.

Cyclone watched you for a moment before speaking again, his tone slightly softer but still firm. “You’re the only one who can do this, Doctor. That means you need to be ready.”

You exhaled slowly, pressing your lips together before nodding stiffly. “Understood, sir.”

Cyclone gave a small nod of approval. “Good. Dismissed.”

You turned and walked out, shoulders tense, fully aware that in three days' time, you were going to be strapped into a high-speed, fighter jet. And knowing your luck?

You were definitely going to puke.

Part 2???

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