#he broke character in the very best way | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jmstoesblog · 2 months

Text

It’s not over

Pairing: possessive! Ex-boyfriend! Jungkook x fem!reader

Summary: Seems like the story with your ex was not over yet.

Warnings: smut, makeout, humping, fingering, dirty talk, little degradation, public sex, sex in the restroom, somebody hearing you two, he calls oc a bitch,

Wc: 2,200+

Note: this is my first time writing smut, let me know if I could do anything better. I wanna improve myself. Also the character “sehun” is not supposed to represent anybody. He’s just an imaginary character. I left the ending open cause I don’t know how to end it 😭 not proofread!!

Masterlist

——————————————————————————

“Thank you.” You smile at the boy, sehun, as he pulls out the chair for you.

You’re on a date with him. He’s your work friend who’s had a crush on you for a looongg time.

When he got to know you broke up with your ex- boyfriend—Jungkook— he could finally ask you out but you rejected him because you weren’t ready to be in a new relationship yet. After a few months— 3 exactly— you decided to give in and have one date with sehun.

He’s not really your type but you’re giving it a chance because, why not? Jungkook wasn’t your type either and you two dated for two and a half year.

Jungkook knows what he wants, he’s bold, can be a asshole sometimes, is a pervert, only thinks with his dick… and the list goes on.

But on the other hand he is very sweet, caring, funny and cute!

But dating him was…. different.

He is really possessive and gets jealous easily which results in you two having angry sex.

But you still loved him…… until he got too much and you decided you two are better off alone.

Jungkook was heartbroken and tried getting back with you but you stood your ground. He would buy you gifts and flowers. Come to your work at lunchtime and try to take you out. You remember one time it was raining like crazy and he was outside of your house on his knees, begging you to take him back, and promised to be better.

You were stubborn and didn’t give in because you knew he wouldn’t change.

A month ago he stopped all of this and finally left you alone. You’re not going to lie you do miss him but it’s better this way.

“So, what do you want to order?” Sehun sweetly smiles at you and holds your hand which is on the table.

You smile back and hope he doesn’t notice you’re uncomfortable with him touching you like that, “The steak sounds good. I think I’ll order that.”

“I heard the steak here is the best!” He smiles, you smile back. He has a cute smile!

After he placed both orders, he tried to start a conversation with you as you were not trying to bother to start one.

It hurt him because he knows you’re not like that. You talk a lot but he just assumed you were in a bad mood.

“I’m sorry, I just feel weird.” You apologize noticing his uneasy state.

“Why? What’s wrong?” He’s so sweet, you feel bad for behaving like that.

“It’s nothing, just a weird feeling.” He nods, not questioning you further.

After the drinks arrived, you gulped down the water and almost spit it all out.

Jungkook was here.

He was smirking when you looked at him with shock and fear in your eyes. He was sitting a few tables away from you.

He head skinny jeans on, hugging his thick thighs. He is wearing his usual combat boots, a black shirt with a leather jacket. He is wearing many jewelry’s like rings, chains, bracelets and not to forget his piercings. Silver hoops adorn his ear on both sides, his hair is parted in the middle and don’t hide his eyebrow piercing. Looking down you notice two lip rings. Oh god.

His smirks widens at you checking him out like that. He still has that effect on you.

“I-I need to use the bathroom.” You cut him off and leave, not waiting for a response.

You enter the bathroom and enter a stall.

“Shit! What do I do!? Why is he here?? Ugh!” You groan in frustration.

After a month of leaving you and giving you hope he’s leaving you alone, he comes back?!

The bathroom door gets opened and from under the stall you see…. black combat boots….. he whistles noticing the restroom is completely empty, except you hiding somewhere.

He whistles louder and opens the first stall door. Empty. He slams it back shut and opens the next one. Empty. He slams it back shut and opens the next one. Empty again. He slams it shut. He keeps going until he is in front of the stall in which you are in.

He whistles even louder.

“Oh, baby.” He laughs. “Open the door. Wanna talk to you.”

“No, are you crazy? You can’t just come into the ladies room like that!”

“Calm down, nobody’s here… except us, so open the door while I’m asking nicely.”

You take a deep breath and open the door, “Look, you have to go, we’re over.” You try to make him understand.

“You decided that! You didn’t give me any chance to prove myself! You just told me that right of the bat and left without hearing me out first!”

He takes a step closer, standing in the doorway now.

“You just gave up on our relationship— our love— like that! You didn’t give us a chance. You didn’t give me a chance to prove myself, I’ve changed!”

He takes another step.

“Why don’t we give us another chance?” He now speaks in a softer voice, trying to convince you. “I will forget about that little boy waiting outside, yeah baby?”

“If you choose to come with me now, all is forgotten baby. I’ll treat you dinner after that we go to my place and I’ll fuck the daylights out of you, yeah?”

You roll your eyes at him. “You’re only thinking with your dick right now, Jungkook!” You push him back. “I have had enough! I don’t want to be with you! Why can’t you understand!?” You yell at him.

He clicks his tongue, “i have had enough too, you know? You’re acting like a bitch right now, you know that? I’m trying to save our relationship and you’re acting like some stupid bitch.” He takes a step closer and closes the stall door with his foot.

He pulls you closer by your waist. “Why can’t you understand? It’s simple, I want you, you want me.”

“It’s not that simple. You act like a possessive controlling freak. And I’ve had enough of it.”

“I don’t want to be with yo—“

He slams you against the wall and smashes his lips against yours, kissing the life out of you. You try pushing him but he’s too strong.

“What do you even see in him, huh?” Jungkook mumbles against your lips, “bet he can’t even satisfy you,” he chuckles darkly, “can’t even protect you, like I do.” He kisses you again, “can’t make you laugh like I do.”

Your lips and his lips are swollen from all the kissing, he smirks at the sight, “you look so pretty,” he smiles, “you even dressed up…. for him.” His smile drops.

“It’s a date, did you expect me to come in sweatpants and a torn shirt?” You state the obvious, in a duh tone.

“No, I expected you to not come to this date at all. We’re not finished, how can you start dating after 4 months? Did the two and a half years mean nothing to you?” You can tell he’s hurt by your actions.

You feel……guilty?

You do love him, but it was getting too much for you.

“I changed. I really did, baby. Give me a chance and I’ll prove myself to you.” He sounds sincere.

He closes the space between you two and gently kisses you, holding your head in his large hands. This time you kiss back, lost in the pleasure.

He moves his head down and starts sucking on your neck. Soon his gentle sucking turns into harsh biting, you moan at the feeling. He makes sure to mark your whole neck, so everyone knows who you belong to. Especially sehun.

“Fuck,” Jungkook mutters, “you smell so good.” Jungkook come back up and pecks your lips before telling you to jump which you do. You wrap your legs around his waist and give him a squeeze, “want you.” You whine, Jungkook clicks his tongue, “oh? Now you want me?”

“You wanted me to beg, baby? Is that it?”

Your core is right above his hard cock. You start humping and moan in delight, “feels good, baby?” He chuckles into your ear.

He presses his hand firmly on your clothed pussy, “I can already feel you drippin’ for me.”

He slaps your count making you wince. He torns your panties, you gasp, “they were expensive!”

“Don’t worry I’ll buy you hundreds of them.” He mumbles before leaning in to kiss you. In the kiss he slaps your bare pussy causing you to gasp and grip his shoulders tighter, your arousal is on his hand.

He uses the opportunity to slide his tongue in your mouth and explore it. He sucks on your tongue and moans.

He circles your hole and abruptly pushes a finger in. He knows you like being fingered while he is wearing rings, sometimes it hurts but that adds to the pleasure. The mix of pain and pleasure is just too good.

You hide your face in his neck, “s- so good!” You moan, “yeah? You like that?” He says in a husky voice.

“You like it hard, don’t you? You filthy slut.” You whine at his words, getting more turned on. He sinks another finger in.

His wrist flicks up, fingers going in and out of you at a fast pace, “want more,” you bite his neck to quieten your moans, “more?” He asks you, you nod, “please.” You beg.

Jungkook likes being in control and having you beg for him, turns him on and boosts his ego.

“Please, what baby? What do you want?”

“Want you in me,” he leaves little kisses on the side of your face, “Yeah? want my cock in you?” He whispers in your ear.

You nod, your mouth parting from the pleasure. Jungkook chuckles at your state.

Just as you’re about to come, he pulls away, “I was about to,” you don’t finish your sentence as you whine. Jungkook lazily smiles, “I’m gonna give you something better.”

You unwrap your legs around him and stand on your own legs. He pushes his pants down along with his underwear after unzipping his pants. You drool at the sight of his hard, thick, veiny cock.

You drop to your knees, ready to suck him off. But Jungkook stops you, “As much as I would like to have my cock in your mouth, I don’t have the patience to wait anymore.”

He pulls you up by your shoulder and slams his cock into you, he swallows your moans and screams by kissing you. He doesn’t move, letting you adjust to his size.

“Fuck, baby! You’re so tight.”

He starts moving slow, letting you feel all of him. “Faster,” you plead.

He starts going faster and smacks your asscheek before groping it and giving it a good squeeze.

Meanwhile, sehun is sitting at the table wondering why you’re taking so long. He decides to look for you, “maybe she needs help? or something happened!?” He gasps, standing up and making his way to the restroom.

“Should I go in? No, I can’t.” He talks with himself.

Meanwhile you’re having one of the best fucks ever, Jungkook grips your chin and leans forward, pressing a kiss to your lips.

“Did she leave? No, no, her purse is still here.” Sehun talks with himself, earning glances from people but he doesn’t care, “is she taking a poop? That long?”

“Jungkook im sorry,” you apologize and he starts laughing, he throws his head back, “now you’re sorry? Once you get this cock your brain starts thinking? Aren’t you a pathetic little slut?”

You whine loud at his words. You know he doesn’t intend to hurt you with his words.

“Will you come back to me now?”

Tears start rolling down your tears, you nod. He smirks, “all it took was a fuck?” He laughs at you, mocking you.

“Y/n?” A gentle knock is heard.

You widen your eyes and jungkook doesn’t stop thrusting into you. He slowed down his pace tho.

“Y/n , are you in there? Are you okay? Did something happen?” Jungkook rolls his eyes at him and you shoot him a glare, before you’re able to speak Jungkook starts thrusting into you fast, skin clapping sounds resonating of the walls.

You moan loudly and sehun widens his eyes and quickly leaves. Not just the door but the restaurant.

He saw Jungkook earlier but thought it’s coincidence that your ex boyfriend is also here. But seeing him follow you after you went to the restroom was weird. He had a feeling something was fishy and he was right. Guess your story with your ex boyfriend didn’t end yet.

“That’s right, baby. Let him know who you belong to.” You moan louder, “good girl.” He praises you.

“Just like that. Good.” He grunts.

You’re too lost in all the pleasure, forgetting your ‘date’.

——————————————————————————

Do NOT copy or translate

Thanks for reading 💕

Masterlist Next door

#bts #jungkook #jungkook x reader #possessive #jeon jungkook #y/n #jungkook fanfic

1K notes · View notes

httpswstef · 3 months

Text

HEADCANONS & love and deepspace boys♡

warning : f!reader, just pure fluff, anyone can read. ☆

words count : 2652.

characters : rafayel, zayne, xavier, caleb.

stefie : hi! sorry if i have mistakes : ( hope u like it!

rafayel !

the most playful little guy in the world! will literally do anything you want just to see your wonderful smile and hear your beautiful laugh! he is truly willing to go to great lengths, it makes no difference to him what exactly.

he will stare at you all the time, just because he likes it so much and you can't do anything about it, he is fascinated by you and he wants to watch your beauty at any moment. you are the truest angel for him, how should he get away from you? that's right, he doesn't.

he loves to stroke your cheeks with the pad of his thumb and look into your gaze, he tries to find something there but love and care for him.

like a ritual for a happy day - kissing your eyes and pressing his nose against yours and trying to make your breathing the same.

the boy literally wants to become one with you. to become your heart, air and soul (in the best and most adequate sense). and he doesn't want to let you go anywhere else, rafael is afraid that someday you might find someone better, though he guffaws about it, but will you find someone more perfect than him? no.

he's a very gentle kisser! he has such soft lips that you just want to kiss every second, and he can't help himself when he sees you and immediately tries to snuggle up to your sweet lips, makes a very hurt look if you don't kiss him, makes his trademark pouty face and waits for your apology. he's such a meow.

but also, he loves to cuddle! i'm sure that he is very warm and can warm you up at any moment if you ask, and you don't have to ask, he will realize it himself! because he is sticking to you 25/8 to share this warm energy and his love with you, gently stroking you with his palm and leaving air kisses all over your body, you will not be able to resist him 110%.

he likes to just lie next to you and talk about anything or be silent, rafayel doesn't care, the main thing is that you are close and safe next to him.

i think he gets jealous sometimes. you are his treasure and his most important love, he trusts you all his life, but raf can't trust other men when they look at you as their prey. He'd rather spend the night in the police station than let one of those idiots touch you, i mean it.

if you sleep next to him, there's a 100% chance rafael is sleeping on top of you, and you're trying to get out of his grip and he's squeezing harder.

he will never raise his voice at you, and if he does, it will be by accident. he'll be on his knees begging you to forgive him and not leave him. will apologize for another ten years to let you know that he's really sorry and he'll never do it again, because he loves you infinitely more.

you're his biggest muse and his only muse. he'll make an exhibition of paintings with only you in them. you. rafayel wants people to know who helped him achieve such a beautiful inspiration, he tried as hard as he could, he painted his paintings daily and didn't miss a single second, he spent a lot of time but it was worth it, because you were crazy about the paintings! smiled, laughed and cried so hard with love for him, it broke rafayel's heart. this is his number one exhibition and the one where he captured his life, his air and his one and only love.

his love languages are spending time together and physical contact! he wants to hold you close and not let you go, kiss or touch you in every way possible, warm you and love you with his love and he is endlessly happy when you spend time with him like this, play with his hair and draw with him, raf will be over the moon!

will call you baby and his love absolutely always! because it's true. once you get into a relationship, he'll already use nicknames, he doesn't care, you're his favorite and that's it. 💅

zayne !

zayne is the most protective type of guy! he always wants to know that you're okay and you don't have any problems, and if you do, please tell him and he'll drop everything to rush over to you and protect you, help you and make you happy. it might have something to do with his profession, but either way, zayne just loves you beyond belief and wouldn't get over the moment if something happened to you.

already he wants to live together with you and come to your house, hugging you around the waist and kissing your shoulder. he wants to feel your warmth and let go of all the problems, bad moods and anger just by being near you and inhaling your scent.

he doesn't care if you work or not, he will pay for you everywhere and that's the truth! zayne wants to give you everything in this world, to make you happy and look at things while remembering your favorite guy, it will warm zayne's heart more than anything!

the most gentle and careful boy! sweetly holding your waist and stroking you a little while he listens with a smile on his face as you tell him something, he is so in love with you :( this may sound selfish, but zayne doesn't care who you are sitting with, he only wants to listen to you and look at you.

he has the most wonderful kisses. zayne kisses you with all the passion he has set aside for such a wonderful and intimate moment between you, he takes his time with you. gently he settles his hands on your cheeks and brushes his hands against your plump lips, savoring such a wonderful taste of love between you, trying to pull away every now and then so you can breathe a little, but he just can't, he wants to kiss you every second and never let go of those beautiful lips. will probably bite you a little if he's in a playful mood so he can kiss those spots on your lips afterward. 🫢

if we're talking about cuddling, it's one of zayne's favorite things to do. as much as he loves kissing you, feeling your warmth is so much more important to him. he can feel your pulse beating out his name and he smiles like a cat. just feeling you near gives him the best hope in the world and the fact that he's willing to fight every day just to keep you warm.

if you sleep next to him, zayne holds you very gently and sniffles softly in your ears. only with you can he sleep so soundly that he probably won't hear alarm clocks, he'll be late, but he'll kiss you and tell you how glad he is to have you in his life.

he'll text you throughout the day to see how you're feeling and if you want to visit him, and if zayne is more or less free, he'll have lunch with you!

he's not the jealous type. zaynehas confidence in you and in the fact that you'll never hurt him - that's enough. and if anyone starts thinking he has a chance with you, clearly he'll fly off to another galaxy.

he might come in upset from work sometimes and start ignoring you, just because he doesn't want to snap and say rude words in your direction, because he knows you don't deserve that. Kiss him on the forehead and tell him how much you love him - zayne will definitely cry and lay on your chest while you gently stroke his hair. he's such a baby.

his love languages are words and actions! i'm 100% sure of it. zayne shows his love for you through actions and doesn't mind telling the world about his endless love for just you. ( he's already planning to marry you and picking out a ring, hehe.)

will call you angel and baby! the cutest nicknames and only for you. he calls you that everywhere he goes and doesn't care about the stares of the people around him. you have the sweetest love! 🥺

xavier !

the smallest baby of all! literally the embodiment of love, sunshine and all that is purest. xavier has the most tender feelings for you, which he kept especially for you, protecting them from stares and dirty hands, just so you could see what a beautiful love he has for you.

i also think he's one of the most romantic guys. He thinks out every date so that you will definitely like it, makes a plan and then goes to you to ask for your opinion, the only one he will listen to. 🫢

but also, he'll also be happy to just sit at home with you, talking about different topics and cuddling until the wee hours of the morning on the couch while some movie is playing in the background. xavier will look at you with a look full of love, you lit a spark in him and only thanks to you it is always with him.

despite the fact that xavier seems too sweet and kind, he also has his dark side as a hunter, he will not be afraid to stand up for you at any moment, no matter what they do to him - he doesn't care. after all, you trusted him and trusted your heart, now he will always protect you from the evil in this world. you deserve nothing but heaven and all the beautiful things in it.

i would say xavier is the type of guy who loves hugs much more than kisses, just feeling your heartbeat and breathing - makes him happier than ever. him holding you close and stroking you with his palm while his other hand goes through your hair is something much more than just love, it's a special intimacy, keep it.

speaking of kissing though, xavier loves kissing your cheeks and hands! his most favorite places and the ones he once kissed for the first time, they are precious to him and so he dare not leave them without his special love. his lips are VERY soft, even too soft! the ones you want to kiss every second of the day. 😭 before nestling his lips on yours, xavier runs his finger along your cheeks and is sure to whisper sweet words, im sure!

i think he's jealous, sometimes too jealous. he's just afraid you'll leave him or find someone better. ☹️ seriously, the boy is ready to fight for you with anyone, just so you can feel his endless love. but don't worry, he will never blame you or fight with you, xavier is beyond that, he will just get over it and come running to you for a cuddle afterward!

and based on that, xavier is not a fan of fighting, just like the rest of the guys. he is a sweet baby and wants you to have a loving relationship with him and no aggression.

xavier loves to sleep next to you, because it's so peaceful and he knows that you are absolutely fine. covering you with his warm blanket and pulling you even closer to him! trying to put you together like a puzzle and kisses you softly behind your ear and then kisses your neck to let you know that xavier is there for you and always will be.

he will cook for you! even if he doesn't know how to cook, he will learn how to cook so that he can delight you every day with his masterpieces and see your smile after his incredibly tasty dishes.

like i said before, xavier is the most tactile baby of all, so his primary love language is physical contact! he loves snuggling with you, he loves cuddling, he loves stroking you, he loves when you sit on his lap, he loves when you braid his hair, he is just crazy about the way your bodies interact and the warmth you give each other. and another love language is support! you are his best and most loyal friend, he will trust you with all his secrets and more. xavier also wants to be your source of energy for the whole day, support you when you are in a bad mood and want to cry, or when you want to be alone, but he will still check in on you from time to time to make sure you are okay.

calling you all kinds of cute nicknames! he has no favorites, to him you are a baby, toddler, baby girl, little girl, princess, kitten, bear and everything in between. he is too sweet and wants you to know how beautiful you are in his eyes and what a gorgeous girl you are!

caleb !

my baby caleb! the most favorite of all and the one I myself would do anything for and protect him from any evil. 🥺 he has got all types of softie guys in him and is loving, and protective, and sweet, and hot! he is literally everything, i can say you won the lottery if you accepted his love, because caleb will give you the ultimate paradise with soft clouds, heartfelt confessions and with your most favorite fruits! my boy is the most loving and so he will do the best for his angel.

plus, he is the ultimate jokester! when caleb is around you, he always tries to make a joke somehow to make you smile sunny and then tickle you and hear your laughter that will make caleb himself laugh to tears.

caleb just walks up to you and rests his head on top of yours and follows you around like a lost child. 😭 i swear, if you walk downtown together, he'll probably cling to you so he doesn't lose sight of you (he's afraid of losing you.)

he also loves to eat and so he always wants to take you to different places he likes and treat you to something yummy for how well you did! (even if you didn't do anything.)

he's not jealous at all because he's confident in your relationship and won't let anyone ruin it. your harmony and your love is far above anything in his life, he is ready to keep it in his soul forever and even in death he will love you with his tender love. even if caleb notices someone trying to hit on you, he knows that person will get nothing, because you are only loyal to your gorgeous boyfriend and no one else. he will also make sure to stand up for you and tell the person to go elsewhere and leave you alone.

will introduce you to his grandmother without fail! he loves you both dearly and is confident that you will get along and find common ground, making caleb the happiest guy on this planet!

and how he loves to kiss you! very hard, but at the same time too tender! for caleb, all of you, beautiful and wonderful, all the parts of your body that he wants to kiss and give all his love! he presses his palms to your face and gazes into your eyes, mentally asking for your permission and only then does he kiss you, not allowing you to inhale and continuing to kiss you as his hands travel up and down your body. it's like you're the only thing alive to him in this world, and even though you are. 🫢

he has the tightest hugs and that's a fact. a hug that brings you back to the brightest place and protects you from every evil in this world while caleb quietly sings your favorite song to you, bringing tears to your eyes. he loves cuddling on your bed where he immediately and falls asleep on your chest.

he loves sleeping with you and waking up with you, as he feels your breath on his skin and smiles again, kissing your face and thinking he wants to wake up like that for the rest of his life. most likely he will sleep on top of you. 🫠 but no one minds because caleb is very warm and will replace any blanket for you!

never quarrels with you and doesn't care what others say. he listens to you and takes your side and then is completely calm to make his point. caleb cherishes you incredibly much and doesn't want to fight about anything, it's useless and too sad, and our baby boy always wants to make you happy.

so, love languages, what are his? most likely the most standard set of love: words, actions, support, and time together. that's what makes caleb happy and you don't have to pick one thing. he speaks many words of love that are absolutely true. always hugs you and kisses you at every moment to see the dimples on your cheeks. supports you in your toughest moments, tears you up when you're sad. and to top it all off, spends almost all of his time with you and wants to capture all the highlights of your life.

he calls you his baby girl and princess! after all, you deserve it. let's just say he's been calling you nicknames since day one of your relationship, he doesn't care. 😭 caleb loves it when you get embarrassed and try to look away, but he catches your chin with his finger and turns you around for a kiss gently purring "baby girl."

#— [ stefie ] 💘🫧🔮#love and deepspace #love and deepspace fluff #love and deepspace rafayel #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace x you #love and deepspace xavier #love and deepspace zayne #rafayel love and deepspace #xavier love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #caleb love and deepspace #love and deepspace caleb #xavier x reader #rafayel x reader #zayne x reader #caleb x reader

2K notes · View notes

catholic-character-tournament · 10 months

Text

FINALS - Catholic Character Tournament

Propaganda below ⬇️

Wolfwood

I love him. Man who has no faith in himself or humanity or god with so much blood on his hands, fighting for something he knows he can never see come to fruition in person. He carries his own literal cross and grave marker on his back. Just… he’s so iconic to me.

I'm sure I'm not the first to submit him. But I did it anyway. I hope he wins and I'll do anything in my power to make sure he does

Dude is literally a priest who carries around a giant cross. Yes he uses the cross to murder people but that is besides the point. Also he has a mini church he carries around for on-the-go confession services.

hes literally a priest(hes not a priest in the reboot but he is in the original and thats what matters to Me). he carries around a cross that is actually secretly a gun with guns inside that gun. he runs a church/orphanage. he carries around a portable confession booth and charges people money for it because he is broke as fuck. he dies bleeding out over an alter begging to god for forgiveness he doesnt think he deserves. he is everything to me.

look at this man he's a priest with a cross shaped gun that (spoilers) dies against the side of a church while waxing poetic about life and redemption (/spoilers), this is the Catholic ever.

Wolfwood is liiiiiterally Judas coded in the text. AND his weapon is a massive cross that turns into a machine gun and a LASER. Not to mention his religious trauma. Oh baby. The religious trauma.

Homeboy literally walks around with a giantass 300lb machine gun shaped like a cross called the Punisher. Hes a priest/undertaker depending on what version of trigun you reference. Grew up in a church orphanage. Also literally walks around with a portable confessional box for people to pay to confess to him. Need i say more.

HE IS LITERALLY JUDAS. he is literally leading the jesus allegory to his doom. hes also in love with the jesus allegory (vash). he is also carrying arouns a giant cross rhat is also a gun. hes literally catholic and judas and his tits are perfect. in one piece of official art he's wearing a cross choker. also the catholicism on gunsmoke is about making vash submit. wolfwood looking at that pathetic wet mess of a man oh i can make him submit easily.

He literally carries around a giant cross and is referred to as a priest by multiple characters. also he offers people confessionals

He carries a huge machine gun that is in the shape of a cross that is really heavy (he is strong) and his boobs are huge. So you know hes serving cunt in a god honoring way. Also in trigun 1998 he brings around a small chapel that he uses as a portable confessional and in trigun stampede he holds funeral services as an undertaker which are way overly priced. Also he dies very gayly (basicly confessing his love to his best boy friend forever)

Nick's funny bc he's probably the least Christian acting guy but is literally a preacher. There's a running gag with Vash asking some variation of "what the hell kinda churchman are you?" His gun is a gigantic cross. He rides a shitty motorcycle in the middle of the desert.

ok so thematically the main conflict in trigun is about peace vs violence and its represented by the characters vash and knives respectively. the two aren't /technically/ angels but thematically and through imagery they are and are comparable to michael and lucifer specifically. ANYWAYS. vash and knives are the characters who are constantly pushing and pulling at wolfwood's morality, sort of like a "the devil and god are raging inside of me" kinda deal. his grappling with his morality and faith is a big factor in his character. also he has a giant fucking gun shaped like a cross. and he dies in a church while praying.

Bros an orphan who grew up at a Catholic orphanage and taken away to be trained and genetically changed into a supercharged assassin for interworldly beings that have lots of angel imagery attached. Guy thought he was just going to be taken to become a missonary...instead he got 6 years of religious trauma. He still wears a cross necklace and holds it often. His gun is a literal cross "full of mercy" (its a missile launcher). He never really believed fully in the faith or anything, but the way he interacts with it is FASCINATING. He's jaded by the planet he lives on and his upbringing, and makes him say his most iconic quote: "We're nothing like God. Not only do we have limited powers, but sometimes we're driven to become the devil himself." He prays to a God he doesn't know if he actually believes in, asking for another day— for hope for the human race. The organization hes part of (The Eye of Michael) works for an interdimensional otherworldly being that has an incredible amount of angelic metaphor and imagery attached who intends to purge the planet of humans... and ends up siding with that guy's twin brother who is so Jesus coded it's insane. They are best friends even as Wolfwood is acting under instructions to babysit and watch him for his twin brother. He dies after facing down against his old mentor (named Chapel) and his pseudo brother from the orphanage who was taken into the Eye as well and his Jesus bestie buries him and sticks his cross-gun in the ground after losing his shit crazy style and using his pseudo alien angel Jesus powers to lash out at his brother for being the cause of Wolfwood's death. Rest in peace king

64.media.tumblr.com

via @monvment

Sister Michael

She drives a DeLorean. She does judo on Fridays. She likes a good statue and despises the French. Her full nun name is Sister George Michael, after the guy from Wham!. She is the fiercest nun you’ll ever come across and, if you’re attending Lady Immaculate College, she’s the woman in charge. So whatever you do, if you’re feeling anxious or worried or just need a chat: don’t come crying to her.

joined the nunnery for the free accommodation?

she does love a good statue it has to be said

She is the headmistress of a catholic school <3

sister michael so reminds me of the nuns who taught me. they're tough and sometimes a little harsher than a woman who dedicated her life to god should be but they're also wonderful people. i had a nun teacher who was 60 years old and would do handstands. another nun (also in her 60s) told me god was nonbinary. another was really mean and made me cry. (so did the handstand nun.) while the catholic girls school is The Catholic Experience, the school wouldn't have been the same for me or the derry girls without at least one nun who seemed to have sprung up out of the ground fully formed, ageless.

#cct polls #tumblr tournament #tumblr bracket #tumblr polls #polls #r8 #the derry girls #derry girls #sister michael #nicholas d. wolfwood #trigun #trigun maximum #wolfwood #trigun wolfwood

3K notes · View notes

hyukaslvr · 2 months

Text

strong enough | j. jungkook (1)

< series masterlist

paring: Jungkook x (f) reader

genre/tags: idol! Jungkook, idol! reader, idiot exes to lovers, slow burn ; k-drama feels (our beloved summer but not at the same time), angst, drama, fluff, smut

warnings: foul/explicit language, alcohol consumption, unhealthy coping mechanisms, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters, panic attacks, reader is harsh towards Jungkook

w.c: 10.6k

series summary: you and Jungkook have too many personal problems, during and after your relationship and it keeps getting brought up. you both had tried multiple times to ignore the fact you were both struggling mentally and physically due to your workplace, but you always run back to each other. maybe one day, one day you'll get back to each other, with all your problems handled, maybe not. all you want is for him to shine like he always does, all he wants is you.

a/n at very bottom!

Jungkook didn’t need to prove to you that he was able to live by himself on his own without you, he wanted to. so for the past 7 months, he’s been taking care of himself in every way he felt he needed you to help him with.

he didn’t do it just for you though, he did it for his life. he was dependent on you, for all of his feelings and to make sure he did the tasks he needed to do. he made sure to watch himself and watch how he acts, he made sure to try his best to take care of himself, sometimes he wanted to text you that it was easy, a piece of cake he would even say.

but since you were here anymore, for the last 6 months, he’d been on his own and doing things on his own. better than he expected too, he expected himself the next week after you tore him apart that he’d be right back at your doorsteps, begging you take him back.

but he didn’t, he stayed strong, and truly believed if you loved him, you would come back. eventually. but he couldn’t wait for you any longer. he couldn’t just sit around and be unmotivated hoping you would come back soon. so he stood his ground, worked out every morning and night, the endless punches against his punching bag echoed in his empty house, the house you used to fill the empty void for.

for now, he blocked you on everything, avoids the events your group is invited to, and makes sure he doesn’t do afterparties; that’s how he met you, mama 2018, an after party somewhere at someone’s house, not that he cared at the moment, he just wanted to get wasted. he met you, standing there, looking around and watching your members have the time of their lives when all you wanted to do was drink off your mood. jungkook saw right through you, feeling the same way he did as of currently, watching his older members laugh and make conversations with other idols.

now that he thinks about it, you both needed help, or didn’t need each other at the moment. he wanted it to work, knowing the consequences of two mentally unstable people in a relationship, he wanted to change you for the better. he didn’t want to change you completely, but the way you felt about life; how you would tell him that you didn’t see a future for yourself, that you just wanted to live but not actually live, but to disappear and not die. so he nods, agreeing in his head that everything happened between you two was for the better, staring wide at his shiny black shoes on the platform below them. he needs to stop thinking about things before he gets on stage, to perform in front of every idol possible to win an award tonight.

he sighs though, his thoughts were taking over his mind again about all the could ofs and would ofs, but he took deep breaths and turned to his older to make sure everything was fine, to get some sort of comfort through the others eyes.

hoseok, one of the older members of his group and the one he came to when you broke up with him, nods with a tight smile on his face, giving Jungkook that type of relief he needed; hoseok was there when you weren’t, he took care of him like the good person he is. Jungkook doesn’t blame you though, he would get away from him too. he doesn’t hate you either, he never will.

screams could be heard behind the sounds in his ears, the constant clicking to make sure he’s on beat. he needed to perform well he thought to himself. his habit of tapping his fingers against each other showing once again, a habit he told himself he would get rid of. again, looking at his hoseok, smiling at his older who looks born to be on the stage before letting the platform below his feet rise up to level with the stage.

the arena screams, the lights become dark as beams of blinding light shown down on the members, and it takes a minute for your eyes to register to realize its bangtan. your eyes searched, you didn’t want them to search but they did on their own. they landed right on him, Jungkook, the love of your life you would like to say.

sometimes you reach your phone to text him, to tell him this stupid idea you had for a song, or a photo of something that reminded you of him. you have to remind yourself everyday that you can’t check your messages, his good mornings won’t be there any longer. you have to keep remembering that you can’t just call him after practices to come pick you up because you hate the idea of being alone with your manager in the car. but then you realize, you ruined things.

you had this “perfect relationship”, you had everything you wanted, the person you wanted for so long before becoming an idol. but, you soon realized it was wrong, and you were both not well. especially you, not just him. the way you acting towards each other during the rough times when you should of been helping each other shows, you see other couples when they are sad and how they help each other, yet you couldn’t with him. you’ve never been super into comforting people, so seeing him the way he was, made you mad. it was an indescribable feeling that you can’t even explain, it felt like a competition against who feels the worst about their lives and who had it the hardest. so when one of you talked about your feelings, it would start an argument, one that led to sleeping in different rooms and one that led to not waking up to Jungkook’s cooking.

you hate thinking about it, but when you think of him, you don’t think of the good times. you think of how you made him cry, forgetting to tell him that you were the one who was hurting the worst, not that he was a mess or how you felt like you couldn’t take care of him . it just came out, heat of the moment you like to say, but you know you’re in the wrong, you know that you should of helped him when he physically couldn’t breathe without you comforting him in some sort of way.

“it’s like you can’t live without me,” you say, your feet killing you from a day event with your group, sitting down on the couch next to him while you rub the pain out of your feet, not realizing your words towards him.

“what does that mean?” he was already in tears, his voice shaking as his throat closing from crying and gasping, “i- i called you because i need help, ______, i don’t know-”

“Jungkook, you never let me in,” you sigh, staring back at the silent man, and that’s when you froze. you forgot your words, your mind going blank, the reason you were even there, “i mean, i want you to talk to me- i don’t even know what’s going on, how can i even help?” you kept spitting out worse comments, his poor heart couldn’t handle it, and you couldn’t handle it.

“i can’t explain it- i can’t breathe, i- i don’t know what’s going on-” you cut him off in a blink, pulling his head into your chest and tugging your fingers in his hair hoping for the best, just for his arms to wrap around you as his breathing becomes quicker, the sobs getting louder.

he didn’t know who else to call, knowing you both can’t be seen in public together, but he didn’t know how else to calm down.

“i’m here, Jungkook, i always will be, but i think we need to stop,”

he looks taller, slimmer, maybe more muscular? you think as you bite your lips hoping for it to bleed a little before you stop. you never liked watching him from a distance, it reminded you a bit of your childhood crushes which you hated the thought of those. you watched him sync with the other members smoothly and perfectly, his voice perfect as ever and hitting the notes perfectly to your ears. you smile, forgetting the memory you got, and watching him proudly.

he’s living without you, hopefully dealing with things with out you. you should be happy, right? you rub your sweaty palms on your blanket, the room felt like it was closing in on you, feeling as if him and you were the only people in the whole arena. you miss him, the way things used to be, the way you used to be, but things are different now. without even realizing the performance was over, you clap along with the others as the noise of palms smacking rings in your ears. you definitely miss him.

you should not be smiling right now, Jungkook thinks, now standing a little bit behind your group as you win the award you were nominated for. but you should, he should be happy that you guys got another win, with the song that gave you a headache everytime he mentioned how well it was going to be for your group. but you shouldn’t in his heart, not when he’s standing feet away from you, when you’re standing feet away from the one person you should be with and not distancing from.

Jungkook wonders, does your heart pound around him like his does? how it feels like it running around in circles like it’s winning a marathon, pounding practically out of his chest every time he breathes in, it hurts when he looks at you.

he wishes to know what you’re thinking, what you’re feeling when your leader lets you hold the award as she performs her speech for the crowd. he wants to know how the award feels in your hands as you grip it tightly, maybe you feel his presence after all when his eyes dart to your hands shaking.

he told himself no more after parties, no more of you and events with you possibly being there. but you looked so pretty, he couldn’t help it. the way your makeup looked like it was your skin, the glitter in the corner of your eyes making them pop out more. he could just leave with yoongi whenever, knowing he wouldn’t want to be there for long anyways, he would rather be alone after such a long event.

did he miss you too? you thought, rubbing your thumb against the plastic cup in your tight grib, sipping on the drink as your members talk to another and other idols. you glance at him every now and then, not that you cared he was there. definitely not the reason why you were here, not hoping he would be here also.

you sigh in thought, he doesn’t even look like he wants to be here, and you know he doesn’t by the way his eyebrows furrow at a obvious drunk idol passing by and saying hello to him. you sighed again, loudly supposably as yerin glares at you.

“just go talk to him already,”

“talk? talk to who? i don’t know who you’re talking about,” you play it off as you were confused, you couldn’t let her know. it made her glare more deadly and more hard to ignore, you wanted to rip your hair our right about then.

“Jungkook, he’s been looking at you all night too, you know?”

“he has?” you quickly question, realizing she tricked you into saying who it is, kinda. “i mean, what are you talking about-”

“i know, ______, just go. i know how badly you want to make it up with him.” she knows, you glup hard as she tilts her head aggressively towards his figure. it’s not that you didn’t want to make it up to him, it that’s you felt like you couldn’t. you were so trapped in your own mind to find the motivation to help his needs and necessities in your relationship.

Jungkook tried to not look at you a lot, making sure the cup in his hand and the loud laughter around him was distracting him enough to take his eyes away from you. when he felt like something was off, he glanced at you, but when he did, you were gone.

knowing Jungkook, you purposely left and went outside, sitting and watching the stars glisten in your naked eye, the music booming loudly behind you. you knew he would come finding you soon, knowing something was wrong if you were gone away from your group for awhile. Jungkook knows you from the back of his palm, you were together for almost 5 years.

when Jungkook did, he finds you sitting right on the cold to touch balcony, your head already turnt to look at him. you find it crazy, how good he looks just standing there out of breath searching for you, in the flickering porch light. he was just standing there with his eyes widened of you waiting for him, yet he was always still pretty no matter the emotions displayed on his face.

his eyes follow yours, searching them to find the reason to your disappearance, all while you start to stand up and turn your whole body towards him before speaking. you weren’t planning anything, what you were going to say to him and how you were going to even look him in the eyes. you just had to stay strong, looking deeply into his as you spoke what was replaying on your mind.

“do you miss me like i miss you?”

“you have no idea, _____,”

the wind blowing harshly against your already prickled skin didn’t bother you, the cold night tingling goosebumps on your arms even with Jungkook’s jacket over your shoulders, giving you the slightest bit of warmth. you had no clue how you ended up here, the car ride being a daze and being in the closest you’ve been to Jungkook in months had you biting your tongue to see if things were actually happening.

‘do you want to talk?’

‘i always want to talk to you, Jungkook,’

‘let’s get you out of here then, yeah?’

the park was silently decided between the two of you, sitting on an empty bench as you watched the clouds blissfully cover the moon every other second. the silence that took over the two of you sat comfortably, but so uncomfortable at the same time that it was starting to hurt your airways. there’s so much to be said but you both haven’t spoken up since you’ve gotten there.

you sigh, it was hard to do, to see him again and all was amazing, you always missed him and hearing his voice, hearing the way he said your name. you were so in love with him that you couldn’t pull yourself away. you felt trapped, in a good way, but not in the way you needed at the moment. you just wanted him, but you felt like everything in your life now was dependent on him. you needed him, he knew you, he knew how to help you.

it sucked that you felt like you only ever needed him in your life, only trying for him, only doing good performing for him, only ever speaking to him, only surrounding yourself with him, he was everywhere. any time you needed Jungkook, he was always there, in some shape or form. speaking or not, he wanted to help you and be there for you, not realizing it wasn’t helping your unhappiness and depression but making you feel worse about how he had to take care of you like a baby. you were trying so hard to get better only to realize that you weren’t doing it for yourself, you were doing it for Jungkook. Jungkook and Jungkook only.

“i really think we should talk, Jungkook-”

“you know, i really miss hearing you talk. i don’t know how you’re doing but i would personally like to know,” it shocked you, he never usually wanted to talk about personal things or pressured you to talk about how you’re doing on top of everything he already knew. Jungkook knew that there was a reason he didn’t know much because that’s just how you are. he loves you, and looking at you right now feels so right in his heart. he knew for awhile that you were the one for him, he wasn’t going to lose you that easily.

“Jungkook, we can’t be doin-”

“i get it,” he waves you off, obviously on the verge of tears because you couldn’t handle speaking to him at all. you’ve done this many times, tried to remove him from your life completely. but you always manage to come back, saying things along the lines of ‘we can’t be doing this,’ or ‘we shouldn’t do this, Jungkook,’. he will always scared that you’ll actually never come back so he takes these talks very seriously.

“no, Jungkook, you don’t,” you sigh once again, youre never able to put what you want to say into words, they come out wrong or rude or not true. there was so much you wanted to say. how could you say it in the easiest but nicest way possible without sobbing? you don’t dare to look at him just yet because you know you’ll fold immediately and run back to him. but you stood your ground, turned your head towards him and made complete contact while you spoke, “we can’t keep doing this, talking when we miss each other. i’ll never get better- you’ll never get better if we keep this loop going on. i love you, Jungkook,” you reached for his face, wiping the tears that started pouring as soon as you looked at him, “you’re forever my number one, i’ll do anything for you even it’s letting you go so you can focus on yourself and your career, you know i’m not any better than you,”

at this point he knew he looked pathetic, sobbing in to your palms are you talked about how much you both needed this when all he felt like was that leaving you is the worst thing to ever happen to him, he felt like he was suffocating with the truth. you loved him, he should be happy, but why are you leaving? you’re leaving him once again just for him to go through the same process all over again. he would drink, party every weekend, over sleep, have bad practices and messing up everything with his dancing. you tear him apart, every damn time.

he was more mad than upset, what did you leaving have anything with him if you loved him? you don’t love him, he thought, his eyes now furrowing at you and slowly tearing his face away from your hands rubbing his face.

“Kook, i’m sorry it has to be this-” but all he can do is just snort, raising to walk away, drive away before he starts to kiss you to make you shut up about getting better. you are never fair, you knew that by the look in your eyes as if your heart just got shattered when all you keep doing is tear his heart apart. he wanted to roll his eyes, you didn’t care about his feelings until he started crying and begging for you to even talk to him.

“come back to me when you’re ready, this could easily be talked about and fixed but you never let me in, claiming i never let you in but here i am, bawling my eyes out to you because you can’t stop leaving me,” he started walking back towards you, his feet wide causing his things to spread your legs apart.

you gasped as he leaned low, leveling his face in front of yours, you felt like you couldn’t breathe when he goes to speak, “you can’t just keep coming back to me when you feel like it, either fix your shit or decide if you want to stay with my messy self. we both know you’re just as fucking messy.”

ouch.

A/N: ouch is definitely the word for this chapter! reminder that this will have a happy ending i promise ( :c ) and this will definitely be a very slow slow burn. i had so much fun writing this and im so thankful for all the support you guys have been giving me, i really do think this series will do well and i really hope it will! reblogs are always more helpful than notes!

(COMMENT TO BE ON TAGLIST FOR NEXT CHAPTER OR WHOLE SERIES)

tags: @loumin908 @heartjiminie @yunholuv @cuntessaiii @parkinglot-nights @minsoa97kor

712 notes · View notes

justfandomwritings · 2 years

Text

Who Did This To You? (Hangman)

Pairing: Hangman x Female!Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 10.2k because I have no self control

Summary: In your most vulnerable hour, Jake 'Hangman' Seresin is the one to find you, and the one to ask you the ultimate question. "Who did this to you?"

Warnings: Mentions of Abuse and DV (NOT committed by Jake), nongraphic description of resulting injuries, a very one-sided bar fight, mention that a character is going to therapy, insults and confrontation by a past abuser. (This story is a who did this to you trope. While it is only dealing with the 'who did this to you' aftermath of what was done, please keep that in mind.)

Notes: This is just an excuse to write the who did this to you trope. This is self indulgence at its finest.

“Who did this to you?”

Your head shot up a little too quickly at the unexpected company, and the world began to spin all over again. With a groan, you laid your head back on the bartop, hoping the flat wood would help the world right itself faster.

You’d been lying there with your forehead pressed on the cool wood of the bar, sitting directly under an air vent, for the better part of thirty minutes. The Hard Deck’s AC was working overtime to keep the heat outside, and the rush of cold air blowing down the back of your shirt was doing wonders for your sore arms and back.

“Hurricane, who did this to you?”

You hadn’t been expecting anyone to be there. Everyone else was down at the beach. You thought you’d have some time alone to lick your wounds and cover your bruises and emotionally recover from what had happened that morning. Penny was too busy watching Maverick. The aviators were too engrossed in a new game Maverick had invented called dogfight volleyball, and the bar was technically closed at this hour. You thought you could slip by and start your shift sight unseen.

“Hurricane,” The voice was firm, but not demanding. Underwritten with a tone of concern that was very uncommon to that particular voice. “Hurricane,” it repeated.

You opened your eyes and rolled your head to lay facing the voice’s direction and made eye contact with Hangman.

You knew it was him before you turned, but for some reason you still did.

Backlit by the sun’s rays bouncing off his perfect golden hair with an open button-up billowing in the sea breeze, he stood in sharp contrast to your current state. Like an angel stepping out of heaven and into hell.

In some ways, this was your worst case scenario. Hangman was definitely not your favorite pilot and was very close to your least, and he was certainly not your friend. You were at best frenemies and even that was a stretch. The pair of you had been constantly bickering and making snide comments behind the other’s backs since practically the moment you made eye contact with each other. He intentionally made your life difficult behind the bar, and you rang the bell on him on multiple occasions.

He was responsible for everyone calling you Hurricane. You’d come crashing through the doors on your first day working at the Hard Deck with a torrential downpour following you in from outside. A drowned cat would’ve looked less soaked through and pathetic than you, and the moment Penny introduced you to the squad, he’d made a snide remark about the Hurricane you brought with you. The rest was history. It became like a callsign to them; your name long forgotten by most. The only pilot who didn’t call you Hurricane now was Bob, and it ground your gears just a little bit more every time you heard it.

On the other hand, this might’ve been the best case scenario. Hangman wasn’t someone who was going to make a big show of this. He wouldn’t rush down to the beach and ask for help. He wouldn’t fawn over you or ask you if you were okay a million times. He wouldn’t expect you to cry on his shoulder and incessantly pick at you until you broke down.

“Who did this to you?” Hangman took a step in from where he’d frozen in the door out to the patio.

His expression was like his voice, hard and firm with undertones of the worry that anyone would be feeling in this situation. Hangman wasn’t the nicest guy you knew, but you knew from the other pilots stories of the many times he’d saved their lives that he wasn’t evil, and you didn’t doubt for a moment that he’d at least be somewhat concerned even if he didn’t care particularly for you.

“You already know who.”

It was true. Devin had been in the bar about once a week for the last six months that you’d been dating. He’d made the rounds through the aviators, none of whom particularly liked him but all of whom had been polite enough not to say anything… except Hangman.

The second Devin left after his first introductions, Hangman had made his distaste known. ‘Something’s off about that guy,’ he’d said before the door even closed. Phoenix had teased him about being jealous that his snarky banter was no longer the center of your world, but you’d seen it for what it was. A combination of being angry he wasn’t the center of attention and looking to defy you at every turn that was a uniquely Hangman blend.

Hangman approached you slowly, taking one deliberate step at a time. Every step with such obvious forethought that it gave you the time and the option to back away. A detail you wouldn’t have expected from such an ego-centric man.

You didn’t back away. Hangman was a lot of things, most of them negative, but you could say with absolute certainty that you weren’t afraid of him. For all the times you’d yelled at him, you’d never been scared of his physicality, and for all the times he'd yelled at you, his hand had never so much as twitched.

Standing beside you, under the harsh glare of the fluorescent lights that threw your skin into sharp relief, Hangman had a full view of the damage.

“That fucker,” his voice was a harsh, raspy whisper, “I’m gonna kill him.” His hand seemed to lift of its own accord. Flat, open palmed and always within your line of sight, he reached up and stroked his fingers along your cheekbone with a feather-light touch.

“I already dumped him.” You don’t know why you felt like explaining yourself to Hangman of all people, but maybe it was the determination in his eyes. The way he stared down at your cheek like his eyes could will the twing of pain away.

Hangman gave a half-hearted, inattentive nod. “That’s certainly a start.” He looked like gears were turning in his head, like he hadn’t given up on his first idea.

A flood of memories came back to you.

‘The only active duty pilot with a confirmed air-to-air kill.’ Coyote, introducing Hangman.

‘We call him Bagman, cause he’ll kill anyone and get anyone killed. He doesn’t seem to mind.’ Omaha commenting on Hangman’s aim at the dartboard.

‘That’s his second air-to-air kill.’ Bob, telling you what he could about the mission they’d just come back from.

‘Hangman’s deadly in the sky. I wouldn’t wanna cross him.’ Rooster, finally being honest about what he thought of Hangman, after the blonde saved his life.

Hangman had killed before, and in his line of work, with his level of skill, likely would again. He definitely didn’t mean what he said, certainly not literally. He wasn’t about to rush out to his truck and go hunting Devin in the streets, but it wasn’t something he of all people would say entirely jokingly either.

You slowly sat up in your chair. The world was spinning less now. Whether that was because the nausea was finally passing or because Hangman’s hand stayed on your cheek, grounding you in the moment, it was unclear. “I appreciate your concern,” you hedged, “but really, I’m fine. I can handle myself.”

Hangman snorted and let his hand fall away. “Obviously you can; you already kicked his ass to the curb on your own. Doesn’t mean I’m not gonna kill him for good measure.” Hangman hopped up on the bar and swung his legs over.

You probably should’ve objected to his comfort level invading your workspace. Penny was very explicit that no one was allowed behind the bar who didn’t work there and even more explicit that that applied to all naval aviators. Somehow, though, you doubted Hangman would rat you out, at least not today.

“Are you going to tell Penny?” Hangman mozied around behind the bar, picking up a rag and tossing it over his shoulder. He was looking for something, but he didn’t seem inclined to ask. You weren’t any more inclined to offer.

It would’ve broken whatever moment was passing between you. Caring? Camaraderie? You weren’t sure, but there was certainly some level of understanding that remained largely unspoken.

Hangman found what he was looking for in short order anyway. He flipped open the ice cooler and pulled the rag off his shoulder, filling it with a scoop of ice and tying the ends.

“Not now,” you were disinclined to bring it up to Penny.

The Hard Deck was a Navy bar, and Penny had made a lot of powerful friends. Hell, you had a lot of powerful friends if you were willing to use them; one of them, or at least a powerful person who was willing to help you, was standing right in front of you. You could only imagine what would happen to Devin if you told anyone. All of it would be deserved of course, but you doubted most of it would be legal. And that really wasn’t what you needed right now, and you weren’t ready to have that conversation anyway.

“Hold this to your cheek. You wanna get the swelling down,” In a reversal of roles, he leaned against the bar in the place that was normally yours and offered you his makeshift ice pack.

You took it with a quiet, “Thank you.”

Hangman nodded with a thoughtful expression, watching your hand raise it to your cheek, “I’ll let you tell them in your own time, but you’re going to go to someone to help you through this until then… professionally.”

It wasn’t a question. He wasn’t leaving room for debate. It was an order as plain as any he got in the Navy.

You nodded wordlessly against the ice pressed to your face. It was a reasonable expectation, a reasonable request. You weren’t sure if you needed it or not, but you supposed that was the point. You weren’t sure. Better to go too soon than too late.

“Good,” Hangman sighed, seeming relieved, and pushed off the bar. His muscles flexed with the motion, bulging against the short sleeves of his open button-up shirt. They remained tense as he crossed his arms over his chest. His teeth gritted behind his closed lips. “I’ll keep him out of the bar.”

“Hangman, you really don’t have to-”

“He hurt you.” Hangman cut you off with a dismissive wave of his hand. He looked serious, deadly serious. “That’s all I need to know. He’s not welcome here anymore.”

Before you had the chance to respond, not that you were entirely sure how you would, Hangman’s eyes left yours, staring at something over your shoulder out towards the beach.

“Do you have any makeup for that cheek?”

Your head turned, and you saw the outlines of Penny and Mav, arm in arm, making their way back to the bar. “Yeah,” you replied, “But my shoulder is a different story. I need to go find…”

Hangman jerked his button up off his shoulders and balled it up, tossing it across the bar to you. “Go quick. Put this on.”

“Hangman, I-”

“Go.” Hangman urged, and you ran off before Penny could see the two of you.

—------------------------------------------------

Your phone kept buzzing in your pocket, but you didn’t have time to check it.

You thought you knew what it was. Phoenix demanding to know why one of Jake Seresin’s shirts was wrapped around your shoulders. Hangman’s weren’t as distinctive as Bradley’s, usually solid colors with a barely-there logo on the pocket. None of the guys had noticed you were wearing it, but you knew Phoenix had the moment she came back in from the beach. She’d shot you a disappointed, skeptical look and immediately begun whispering to Bob as they walked away with their drinks.

Penny hadn’t been much better. She hadn’t identified which pilots’ shirt it was like Phoenix clearly had, but she was two steps away from asking when the evening rush began to pour in without any sign of slowing down.

The Hard Deck was slam-packed, and none of the bartenders had a second to spare. The newest class of TopGun recruits were graduating within a week, and it seemed that everyone had turned out for the upcoming occasion.

The bar was crowded with faces new and old. All of the graduating pilots were scattered around, and most of their instructors had made their way in at some point. Some of the pilots had families, wives and girlfriends, who had flown in and accompanied them to the bar that night. There were more than a few old friends in town to visit or siblings using the graduation as an excuse to get away.

Even most of Mav’s squadron was there. Penny’s old flame had claimed a spot by one of the dart boards, and his lieutenants were all taking turns trying to dethrone Hangman as the king of darts. Normally, they would have migrated to the pool tables by now, but the bar was too crowded for even TopGun’s finest to leverage their way into skipping the line to have a game.

One of the soon-to-be graduates hunkered down at the bar, some asshole who was billing himself as the new and improved Hangman, kept snapping his fingers at you to try to get your attention from behind the bar. You were dangerously close to ringing the bell on him the next time he did it, and Penny’s fingers were clearly itching to do the same. Tragically, neither of you thought that was a very good idea. Tonight might’ve been the one night where it was simply too busy to ring the bell.

There were so many people you couldn’t see past the sea of bodies pressing in around you, and it was a miracle that you didn’t bolt from the claustrophobia.

Marg after marg. Old fashioned after old fashioned. Beer after beer. The line never seemed to stop, and it was taking its toll on you. Tonight was simply not your night.

“Go,” Penny’s hand touched your shoulder and made you jump, spilling some of the tequila shot you were trying to hand off. “I’ll clean that. You look like you need a break. Take five.”

Normally on a busy night, you would’ve protested, insisted you could hold down the fort and done your best to help Penny push through the rush, but not that night.

Your shoulders slumped in relief, and you ducked under the gap in the bar without much of a second thought, pushing your way through the people towards the door to the kitchen. There was a ‘broken’ stool by the door to the kitchen that was in fact not broken at all but had a sign taped to it that said it was specifically so it was open for when workers were on break. The seat provided some much needed relief for your aching feet and even more aching shoulders.

Shaking cocktails was really aggravating the bruises just beneath the button up wrapped around your shoulders, and you found yourself hurting almost twice as much as normal this shift. That might’ve been why you felt like you were moving in slow motion the whole time. That or the sheer number of people had simply made the task seem insurmountable.

You were just closing your eyes and leaning back against the wall when your phone in your pocket buzzed again.

It wasn’t really a conscious decision to check it, more habit than anything else. And really, you hadn’t expected it to be anything that bad. You hadn’t heard from him all day.

But there it was. His name. His name a half a dozen times over the course of your shift. Each text progressively more urgent and pressing than the last.

‘I’m still coming to pick you up from work.’

Bile rose up in your throat, and you suppressed the overwhelming urge to bolt. The room was suddenly too hot and too crowded, and there were too many faces. Faces you recognized and faces you didn’t. A wash of faces that was the perfect place for him to hide, to wait, to lurk around for the opportune moment to reveal himself.

You couldn’t do this, couldn’t deal with this. Not here. Not now. Not in front of all these people. Not alone.

You did the first thing that came to mind.

It was stupid really. You couldn’t explain why it occurred to you, why you acted on it so immediately, why you thought it was a good idea at all. It probably wasn’t; it could just as easily have backfired in your face as anything else. But your gut told you it was what you should do. Really, your gut didn’t so much tell you as wrench you in that direction with an undeniable force.

“Hey can I talk to you for a sec?”

Hangman was an easy man to find, even despite the crowd, strutting around the dart boards like he owned the place, which he very nearly did, rubbing the other pilots noses in his shots that were somehow better blindfolded than theirs were with sight.

You interrupted him boasting loudly to Fanboy and Payback about how he didn’t even need to practice. Perfect marksmanship just came naturally to him. The rest of the pilots were all gathered at the high tops near the darts boards, mostly rolling their eyes. They were having some kind of tournament, or rather a competition to see if anyone could take Hangman down.

Payback seemed almost too happy for the interruption, but Fanboy was a bit more perceptive, at least at the moment. Fanboy’s eyes darted away to Phoenix’s table, and you saw the jerk of his head when he caught her eye. Funneling the female aviator’s attention in the direction of what was unfolding.

You, wearing Hangman’s shirt since he disappeared for half an hour earlier that day, asking to talk to him alone near the end of your shift. You knew exactly what it looked like.

“Sure.” Hangman’s tone was completely casual, not giving anything away, but when his back turned on his companions, his eyes were burning. You quickly looked away from his gaze and led him from the group.

“I wasn’t checking my phone.” The words were tumbling out of your mouth the moment he was out of the others’ earshot. You didn’t even bite your tongue long enough to turn around. “He’s been texting me my entire shift. He was supposed to be my ride home tonight, and I think he might show up soon.”

When you faced Hangman, you knew the panic in your voice and in your eyes was painfully obvious. Now that you were semi-alone with him, with someone who knew, there was no hiding how much it jarred you. Your hands fumbled with your phone trying to show him the flood of texts you’d gotten, unnoticed, over the last two hours.

Hangman didn’t look down even as you turned the phone to show him. His jaw was already clenched; his expression was agitated, visibly angry. His eyes weren’t looking at you or the phone. They were searching the faces in the crowd similar to the way yours had only moments before though far more thorough. The honed, trained eye of a military fighter pilot meticulously picked through the crowd for its target, finding nothing.

“Could you…” You hesitated to ask. It was such a ridiculous request. Just yesterday, Hangman would’ve been your absolute last choice to be in this position with; you would’ve risked handling it alone before asking for his help. But here he was. The only one who knew. The first one you asked. “I’ll give you a round on the house for it. I just… Would you mind giving me a ride home? I don’t want to stumble on him alone.”

Hangman didn’t hesitate or pull his eyes from where they continuously scanned the crowd, as if his gaze alone was enough to keep a threat at bay. “No beers required, Hurricane.” The words seemed to be coming out of his mouth even as you offered. Like he’d already decided what he was going to do the minute you told him the problem. “Wait here a sec? I’ll handle it.”

Hangman walked the short distance over to the bar, glancing back over his shoulder at you every few steps like he was making sure you hadn’t disappeared, and flagged down Penny. Something on his face must’ve told her it was urgent because she forwent several regulars and big tippers demanding drinks to beeline towards him. He leaned over the bar and whispered something in her ear, gesturing back in your direction.

Penny looked concerned, and she nodded along with what Hangman was saying until he turned to leave.

“If Penny asks,” Hangman put a hand on your shoulder, a firm grip holding you to his side as he led you through the throng of people towards the exit, “a guy was bothering you, and I drove you home cause you were scared of him.”

“Not entirely a lie,” You mumbled, shifting closer into Hangman’s side.

No one tried to stop you. No hands reached out for you. No one called out your name. You made it through entirely unscathed. You could feel eyes on you, but they didn’t raise the hairs on the back of your neck. You doubted, highly, that they were Devin’s. More likely, Hangman’s squadron were watching him retreat from the bar with you under his arm without so much as a goodbye. More likely, they were plotting and planning the questions they were going to hound the two of you with the next time they saw you. More likely, Phoenix was pointing out to everyone that you were wearing Hangman’s shirt.

—------

“Does he have a key?” Hangman didn’t break the silence until he’d turned onto your block, until he’d brought his truck to a slow crawl, looking for your tiny, inconsequential cookie cutter house in a row of tiny, inconsequential cookie cutter houses.

Yours was pretty much the only house without a Navy flag or Navy paraphernalia of some description sitting in the yard or stuck to a car in the driveway. The neighborhood was not far from the Hard Deck which was not far from the base, and the tiny houses geared towards first-time-buyers were crawling with Navy pilots and newlywed military couples who wanted to live offbase.

You were on the second sidestreet, the third house on the left. Hangman already knew the way without instruction. Penny had conned every Top Gun pilot with a car into driving you home at least a couple times. And while Hangman was usually the pilot she was least willing to ask, he was also the only one who was guaranteed to always be sober.

His question came out very sober. His usual lilting, teasing tone had dropped off somewhere today and never fully returned.

“He did. He… he told me he lost it, but…” You both knew better than to believe that.

Hangman pulled into your driveway and flicked the truck into park and turned it off. “Tomorrow I’ll drive you to the hardware store, and we’ll change the locks.”

“You don’t have to…”

“Do you feel safe with him having a key?” Hangman cut you off. He was looking down at you with just a touch of condescension, so classically Hangman. Like he knew the answer already, like he knew you knew the answer already, and that you were silly if you pretended not to or refused him.

You knew where this was going, and you thought about lying, just to relieve Hangman of whatever false sense of duty or obligation he had imposed on himself by being the one to find you at the Hard Deck. But it was way too late. Hangman wasn’t stupid, but he was incredibly, irritatingly stubborn. And he’d already set his mind to helping you through this. “No.”

“Then tomorrow morning I’ll change the locks.” Hangman threw his door open and hopped out of the truck. It slammed closed behind him as he circled around to your side. You made to open your door, but Hangman beat you to it. “Alarm services are expensive,” He continued, offering you a hand, “but they make door jammers that have sound alarms on them at least, and my sister bought some cheap window versions a while back that I could help install.”

You took Hangman’s hand and dumbly followed him up to your door as he rambled on about extra door locks and doorbell cameras. All options that you could pick up tomorrow for him to put in.

“That’s too much effort,” You halfheartedly protested as you spun your keys around trying to find the one to your front door.

There really weren’t that many keys. There were a couple to the Hard Deck, one to the shed where Penny kept beach supplies, and one to Devin’s place that you hadn’t returned. They were all distinct shapes and colors, but you couldn’t seem to focus long enough to find the plain silver key to your own door. Maybe because you knew there was another one, exactly like it, somewhere across town at that moment.

“Not if it makes you feel safe.” Hangman leaned back against your door frame, his eyes skimming up and down your block as if he was still on alert in the crowded bar, still looking for signs of trouble, signs of him.

“Would you…” Your words trailed off as you watched his darting eyes. The question came bubbling up before you could stop it, before you even really thought of it. It was less a question and more a response to his vigilance, to the thought that his vigilance might be warranted and necessary.

“Would I…?” Hangman didn’t let it go. His eyes turned to look at you.

You chewed at your bottom lip, debating if it was worth asking, debating if it was necessary.

He probably thought it was, if his mannerisms were any indication, if his talk about alarms was any indication, if walking you to your door and watching your back were any indication.

“Would you come in?”

Hangman raised a doubtful eyebrow, sure you didn’t mean what those words usually meant.

“Not like that, it’s just… You’re right. He probably still has a key, and if we can’t fix it till the morning…”

Understanding seemed to wash over his face, and Hangman kicked himself up off the door jam. “If it’ll help,” he immediately conceded. “I’ll sleep on your couch.”

“It…” You hesitated, but only for a moment. “I think it would.”

The silence inside your home was almost palpable. It was late enough that going to bed wouldn’t have been awkward for either of you, but neither of you were tired. And neither of you seemed up to faking being tired just to get away.

Hangman sat on one end of the couch, and you sat on the other. At some point, you mustered the effort to turn on the tv. The local news was a quiet, bland drone of background noise cutting through the still air around the two of you.

You felt like you should say something. Maybe ‘should’ wasn’t the right word; maybe you wanted to say something. But either way you didn’t know where to begin.

You had only ever been alone with Hangman when he was dropping you off as a favor to Penny, times that were filled with snarky jokes and constant nagging from both of you, and earlier that day in the bar. You weren’t close. You weren’t friends. You were barely acquaintances. He was only here because he was in the right (or wrong, depending how you looked at it) place at the right time.

“Thank you,” That seemed like a good place to start. “For today, thank you.”

“You have nothing to thank me for.” Hangman countered quickly. His eyes stayed on the tv, though they were clearly out of focus staring at the screen.

“I do though. You could’ve told everyone.”

“You weren’t ready for that.” He added it under his breath, countering without cutting you off.

“You could’ve left me to finish out my shift.”

“Not with him coming to the bar.”

“You could’ve left after you dropped me off.”

“He has a key.”

“You could’ve turned and walked out the door when you first saw me at the bar.”

Hangman let out a heavy sigh, not of annoyance or exasperation but a sigh weighed down with duty and concern. “No, I couldn’t.”

Your eyes met his over the center of the couch, and a breath rushed out of your lungs under the intensity in his gaze.

—-------------------------------------

You woke up in your bed, mouth open, with more than a little drool pooling on your pillow.

You had no memory of falling asleep there, of getting into bed, of going to your room at all.

You remember being on the couch, talking to Hangman. You remembered the way his eyes, intense, open, and honest, compelled you to speak. The way you couldn’t bite back the story pouring from your lips. The story of Devin asking you out, of falling for him in those early weeks, of how he changed after you committed to him. The story of what he did that night, of his buddies who sat back and did nothing, of the jokes you heard the three of them cracking as you ran from the room.

You remembered Hangman crossing the space between you and putting a hand on your arm, how cautious he was touching you, how much time he left you to pull away, how gentle his touch was against your skin. You remembered throwing yourself into his lap, sobbing into his shoulder as he held you against his chest and rubbed soothingly up and down your back, whispering promises that that asshole would never hurt you again.

You didn’t remember anything after that. You must’ve fallen asleep in his lap.

Sitting up, you found the answer to your unasked question.

A folded piece of notebook paper sitting on the pillow next to you:

‘Thought the bed would be preferable to sharing the couch with me. If I’m wrong and you wake up in the middle of the night and don’t want to be alone, you can always wake me up. If not, I’ll have coffee ready for you in the morning. - Jake.’

As you read, his words the night before echoed in your head to the beat of a nonexistent drum as you read the note once, then twice, then a third time.

‘No, I couldn’t.’

You carefully folded the paper up and tucked it in the top drawer of your bedside table.

True to his word, Hangman was wide awake, standing in your kitchen pouring himself a cup of coffee when you walked out of your room.

“H-Hi,” you stuttered.

Last night, in the comfort of darkness, with exhaustion clouding over your mind and his arms holding you close, it had seemed the most logical thing in the world to open up to Hangman. And with the light of day glinting through the windows, with him dressed in the button up he’d wrapped around you the day before, with him lounging back against your counter as he sipped from your favorite mug, with an overconfident air that was too comfortable for any normal person’s first time in your home… It was odd to think that feeling hadn’t changed, that you still felt able to bare your soul to him, that you didn’t feel a need to run back into your room and get changed or freshen up, that you were perfectly comfortable being seen by him like this, a tired quaking mess with puffy red eyes.

Part of you expected to walk out into your kitchen to an epiphany that you’d made a horrible mistake, that Hangman was exactly as much of a cocky asshole as you thought he was two days ago. But the epiphany never came.

“Morning,” Hangman took a sip of coffee and set the mug aside. He looked casual, at peace, like this was just another day, like he’d done this a million times. “I’m ready to go whenever you are. I found the toolbox in the bottom of your coat closet. Hope you don’t mind. We’ll probably need a few things if we’re gonna do anything more than replace the locks.”

“Y-Yeah,” You grabbed a mug off the drying rack and crossed the room to pour yourself a cup of coffee from the pot beside him, your shoulder brushing passed his as you poured. “Sounds good.”

“Hey.” Hangman seemed to immediately pick up that something was plaguing your mind. He didn’t reach out for you like last night, quite the opposite. He took a step away and turned to face you, crossin his arms over his chest, “If you want to be alone, I’ll head out. I’ll go to the store, pick up the locks, and change them myself. You can have time to yourself if you need it.”

“No,” You immediately countered his obvious misinterpretation of your mood. “I-I don’t think I want to be alone. I’m just… antsy I guess.”

He didn’t seem to fully buy it, but he let your excuse hang. “Okay then, we’ll head out when you’re ready.”

—----------------------

All day, as Hangman worked around your house first changing the locks then installing alarms then fixing a window that wouldn’t lock and then righting a wobbly chair leg that had absolutely nothing to do with your safety, neither of you mentioned the note he left or you crying in his arms or falling asleep on his lap or his quiet ‘No, I couldn’t’.

—--------------------------

You made a vow to yourself when Hangman finally left your house late Saturday afternoon. You were never going to ring up his card at the Hard Deck again. It couldn’t really repay what he’d done for you, the feeling of safety he’d brought to you in what was probably your most vulnerable moment so far on this earth, but you knew he wouldn’t want anything more showy. Hangman loved being the center of attention, but somehow you knew he wouldn’t want attention for this.

True to your vow, the next Saturday evening, Hangman was on his third beer and had, unwittingly on his part, not paid a dime.

The Hard Deck was far less crowded that night. The graduating Top Gun candidates had all flown away, and only those currently stationed at the base, mostly Maverick’s squad, and some locals remained. A few dozen patrons milled around a room far larger than they needed with maybe a dozen pressed up to the bar. Most of the dozen fell under your responsibilities at the moment. Penny had, unintentionally, abandoned you not long before when Maverick had wandered in and taken up his usual stool.

Omaha and Halo, the first aviators to arrive, had claimed one of the pool tables early in the night, and the rest of the squad had started rotating through matchups. It appeared Fritz was on a hot streak, one that was no doubt about to end as his next opponent in line was Hangman.

All seemed right with the world. The constant buzz of voices, the crooning of the Goo Goo Dolls song that Bob had selected on the jukebox, the ready flow of beer to your usual patrons. Everything was fine.

Until the door opened one last time. Not that places of business ever ‘expected’ anyone because they hardly sent out invitations to come buy beer, but you really weren’t expecting anyone else that night. All the regulars were already inside.

The door banging against the wall as it was flung open was enough to draw your surprised eyes up to the entryway.

Face lit by the sun setting over the beach through the windows on the opposite wall, he was unmistakable as he marched into view flanked by his two buddies. They immediately began scanning the room.

Your breath rushed out of your lungs, exhaling in a gust that you couldn’t hold back any more than the wind.

No, no, no. He wasn’t here. He couldn’t be here. He couldn’t confront you here. He couldn’t corner you alone.

There was no time to think, no time to check with Penny if it was ok to leave your station, no time to get to the door or bolt out the back.

‘I’ll keep him out of the bar.’

It was your first instinct when you saw the text the weekend before, and it was your first instinct when you saw him that night.

“Hurricane?” Penny called after you as, without so much as a word in her direction, you ducked under the gap in the bar and made a beeline for the pool tables.

You barely heard her, and if you did, it didn’t register.

“Jake,” his real name leaving your lips was enough to draw most of his coworkers’ attention, all those in earshot at least. You grabbed his arm the second he was within reach, inadvertently clawing his skin with your nails as you pulled him up from where he was hunched over the pool table lining up a shot.

Jake laughed and shrugged off your arm before he even turned around and saw who it was. “Hey,” he rubbed at the red marks in his skin, “I was just…”

The words died on his lips when he turned and saw the panic in your eyes. It was brimming up inside you, overflowing and choking you off from every other sensation except the desperation for Jake to understand.

He knew better than anyone that there was only one thing that could make you look like that, feel like that. His head jerked up immediately in the direction of the door, as if he could sense the direction of the impending doom.

You watched the lighthearted smirk that constantly plagued his lips fall away. You watched the light in his eyes cloud over in darkness. As his gaze went up over your shoulder to the door, where one of the three men with angry expressions and dark eyes spotted your back amongst the khaki uniforms and began moving.

Jake’s arm twisted in your grip and grabbed you by the elbow, jerking you unceremoniously behind his back. There was no time for pleasantries, no time to be nice about whatever he was about to do.

“Fanboy, stay with her.” Jake ordered over his shoulder to the nearest aviator. His gaze didn’t waiver from the three men approaching, even as he issued commands.

Most of the aviators in Mav’s squad were scattered around the room. Mav was at the bar talking with Penny and Halo. Fanboy and Coyote had been watching Hangman school Fritz, who was being hyped up by Payback. Rooster was at a table not far from the pool game talking to a pretty girl. And Phoenix and Bob were half spectating from their perch by the jukebox discussing something that had gone wrong in a training run that afternoon.

Fanboy caught you and held you up as Jake pushed you in his direction. “What’s going on?”

Jake didn’t answer. He side-stepped in front of you, half blocking you from view, and walked to the edge of the pool area. There was a buffer zone between himself and you. He was the first line of defense, and he was giving the second, Fanboy, room to react.

“You fucking bitch!” If Fanboy didn’t know what was going on before, he instantly caught on.

Fanboy’s arms tensed around yours. His back went rigged, as if a commanding officer had just called him to attention, and he curled away, pulling you back behind him and putting his body in front of you as a shield. Even with Fanboy hovering in the way, his body didn’t hide Devin’s eyes. They sought you out around Jake’s frame and over Fanboy’s shoulder; they found you huddled up behind the Navy uniforms and the fancy stars pinned to the pilots chests. No number of medals pinned to Jake’s chest could stop the chill that ran down your spine in response to the venom in Devin’s tone. You wanted to look away, but the daggers in his gaze skewered you in place, held you hostage.

You wanted to curl up and hide, preferably behind Jake... Well, preferably in a home far away from there wrapped in heavy blankets with many deadbolts between you and Devin with Jake vigilantly standing guard at the door.

Devin tried to walk straight past Jake, like he didn’t even see him. Jake wasn’t having any of it.

A thick, muscular arm stuck out across the length of Devin’s shoulders as he tried to pass, holding him back.

Devin wasn’t a very big guy. He was well toned, but he was no naval aviator. He was no Jake Seresin. Jake had about an inch on Devin, but his well built frame made up for their near identical height. Devin had never been one to hit the gym hard while Jake certainly was, and it showed. It showed in the way a single arm without so much as a brace didn’t move even as Devin walked straight into it.

If the rest of the bar weren’t looking when Devin shouted that you were a bitch, they certainly were when he glared up at Jake. “Out of the way you fucker!”

Jake getting out of the way was about the last thing you wanted to happen, and Jake seemed disinclined to oblige either. His arm didn’t move from where it blocked Devin’s path, even as Devin glowered up at him.

The staring match lasted only a moment before Devin, impatient as always, gave up and turned back to glaring at you. He shouted, unnecessarily loudly, across the minimal distance between the two of you, “You changed the locks on me?”

There was shuffling behind you and the sound of something clanging onto the pool table.

You couldn’t bring yourself to turn your head away from Devin, couldn’t look away, couldn’t let him out of your sight. But there was the sound of footsteps as first Coyote, then Fritz, then Payback came into range in your peripheral vision.

None of them knew what this was about, but it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out where this was going. And any idiot could tell whose side they would be on in a fight between Jake and Devin.

“She didn’t. I did.” Jake declared at a similarly loud volume, pulling Devin’s attention back on him, demanding Devin shift his focus off of you. “You got a problem with that, you take it up with me.”

Devin took a step back, finally abandoning his futile attempt to confront you in favor of squaring up to Jake.

As Devin stepped back, the trio of pilots stepped forward. Fritz approached first, joining Fanboy in front of you. Payback followed after Fritz, lingering halfway between him and Jake, a bystander ready to step in if things got out of hand.

Coyote, however, had no questions about how any altercation would go down. His hand came down as he walked up behind Jake, slapping down reassuringly on Jake's shoulder to let him know he wasn’t alone. Coyote flanked Jake at such a close distance that it made it impossibly clear that, if this turned into a fight, it would not be three on one.

It wouldn’t even be three on two for that matter. Devin’s buddies, who had crossed the bar with him had hung back a few feet, giving Devin the space he wanted to scream at you or confront you or whatever else he had been planning before Jake intercepted. The duo found themselves with two bar tables between them and Devin. One of which was, ever so unfortunately for them, occupied by none other than Bradley Bradshaw and his drinking companion.

Devin’s friends would be forgiven for not realizing that they were offering up the chance to divide the group in half. Bradley, per usual, wasn’t in his Navy uniform, and a guy in a faded Hawaiian shirt didn’t exactly look intimidating. At least not while he was sitting down chatting up a pretty girl.

Seeing the escalation Coyote invited, and flashing his eyes to where you cowered behind his squadmates, Rooster got to his feet with a slow, lithe push off the table in front of him and turned his back on Devin. Not even bothering to give the belligerent asshole, currently one on two against Hangman and Coyote, the time of day, he turned his entire attention to the backup Devin brought with him.

Never in your life had you been scared of any of the naval aviators, but there was something especially intimidating about the incredibly casual way Bradley put himself alone in a fight against two men. His relaxed stance, completely unbothered by the numbers game he was playing. His head, cocking to one side to crack his neck, and then the other.

“You the latest pilot she’s spreading her legs for?” Devin snarled up at Jake, completely oblivious to what was going on behind him and unconcerned by Coyote’s presence.

Jake was entirely unphased. His voice was calm and steady even as Devin’s got more and more red with each passing moment. “No, but I am a friend. And if you have a problem with her you’re gonna have to go through me…” Jake added as an afterthought, “And him,” jerking his head to Coyote.

“You think she’ll fuck you if you play hero?” Devin spat out the word fuck as if the thought of you and sex in the same sentence disgusted him. “You don’t gotta try that hard to get her to spread.”

Jake shrugged and casually dismissed the comment. “That’s really not my business or yours.”

“She is my business; that’s my girl.”

Devin jabbed a finger over Jake’s shoulder in your direction without looking away from Jake, and you instinctively shrunk further back behind Fanboy. Until you felt the material between your fingers, you didn’t even realize that your hand had reached up to fist the back of Fanboy’s uniform.

You didn’t know, logically, why you were afraid. Whatever Jake was doing, he was doing a marvelous job of keeping Devin’s eyes off of you. You were absolutely certain that Devin would have to knock Jake out to get to you, not that he could even manage that. You were also absolutely certain that even if he did, he’d still have to make it through Rooster, Fanboy, Fritz, Payback, and Coyote, not to mention the dozen Navy guys from other squads currently spectating who would jump in to assist, or Penny or Mav. There was just something about his finger pointing at you, accusing you, that made that feeling of helplessness bubble up inside you again, that made you feel pinned, trapped under his hand.

“I’ll do whatever I want with her.”

It was like Jake knew or could sense your growing bubble of fear. He leaned ever so slightly to one side, like he was simply shifting his weight from foot to foot, before standing back up straight in between Devin’s finger and you.

“Not anymore.” Jake declared firmly. “You’re already about a mile closer to her than I want you to be.”

That declaration made Devin’s lips twist up into something akin to a smirk. “I’ve been a lot closer to her than this.”

Jake’s shoulders tensed, and for the first time it seemed like Devin got to him. “I know exactly how close you got.” His voice darkened, and you could practically picture the look in his eyes, practically knew it by heart from the night you told him what Devin had done. “Where I’m from, we don’t treat women like that.”

Devin laughed humorously, heading tilting back to let the single tone ring out in the air. “Well we aren’t where you’re from. That’s my girl, and I’ll do what I want with her.”

You shivered involuntarily, like someone had dropped an ice cube down the back of your shirt. It sent a chill through you to think of Devin alone with you, doing what he wanted with you. You remembered what he did the last time he had that power over you. You couldn’t let it happen again.

“No,” It took a moment to register that Jake was the one snarling, not Devin, not even you. The word came out in a hiss between his teeth. “You’ll do what she wants. And right now she doesn’t want you here.”

For whatever reason, Devin was getting to Jake. The unshakeable, unflappable Jake Seresin was rising to a rolling boil under the surface of his skin, and there was nothing he could do to hide it. From the tone of his voice to the tension in his shoulders, to the way his fingers twitched in and out of a fist, Devin and what he was saying was under Jake’s skin.

Devin saw it; you could tell. You couldn’t see his eyes around the bodies between the two of you, but you saw his posture change, his stance open up and his chest puff out. He leaned in and sneered, “She needed to be put in her place. She looks better roughed up anyway.”

You felt their eyes on you. The squad. The whole bar. None of them were actually looking at you. None of their heads turned, but you knew every one of them was staring at an image of you in their minds. Maybe they all figured it out before. Maybe they knew when Devin walked in or when Jake escorted you home. Or maybe they didn’t know anything at all, but either way Devin just gave them confirmation.

Payback was no longer content to play the bystander. His shoes clicked on the floor, echoing in the silence that existed throughout the bar as Jake and Devin sparred. He flanked Jake’s other side, shoulder to shoulder with him as Coyote had been since the confrontation began.

Coyote didn’t move an inch except for the hand at his side that clenched into a fist.

Jake took a step closer. But for the inch of height difference, he stood nose to nose with Devin as he said, “Where I’m from, a man lays his hands on a woman, and you take him out back and put one between his eyes.”

Devin pushed up, must’ve stood on his tiptoes to do it, to close the gap with Jake, to put himself on the same level as the pilot. “She’s mine, you fucker.” Flecks of spit, visible even at your distance, splattered against Jake’s cheek. “Get the fuck out of the way.”

Devin’s hands came up and shoved Jake in both shoulders, hard.

Jake’s shoulders didn’t give an inch. His feet didn’t budge. His posture didn’t change.

Jake’s voice dropped low, so low you barely heard it. If a single soul in the bar had been focused on anything other than the confrontation at hand, if the jukebox hadn’t run to the end of its queue of songs and left the bar in silence, if any more distance had been between the two of you, you wouldn’t have heard the rough, guttural retort from somewhere deep inside Jake’s chest, “You’re really, really gonna have to make me.”

Without warning, Devin swung.

He was standing too close to Jake, almost chest to chest with the taller aviator. There was no good angle from which to strike, and his arm took a wide arc away from his body to get the necessary momentum and distance to hit at Jake with any force.

It was like it moved in slow motion, Jake’s head turned, his eyes following the direction of the swing as it approached his face.

You gasped and clung tighter to Fanboy, who blindly reached back to clutch your arm, pulling you in closer to him.

The fear, entirely for Jake, was also entirely unnecessary.

Jake’s head leaned to one side and effortlessly avoided the blow. Devin stumbled a couple steps to the side as his momentum carried him past Jake.

It gave Jake the space he needed to counter, not with a wide, slow hook around to the side of Devin’s face, but with a swift, firm uppercut to his jaw.

The connection sent a crack echoing through the bar, and Devin’s entire body went slack before he even hit the floor.

Coyote caught his arm before he could collapse, not that it did Devin any good to be under Coyote’s care instead of Jake’s. Coyote’s grip was so tight on Devin’s upper arm that you were sure it would bruise not just the skin but the muscles underneath.

Jake bent down over the other man and bent a finger up under his jaw. Devin’s head tipped up into Jake’s face without any protest and fell back to bob loosely to one side the moment Jake wasn’t supporting him any more.

“He’ll be out cold for a while.” Jake declared, glancing up to give Coyote a nod.

Coyote dropped his grip on Devin and let him crumple unceremoniously to the floor.

“Now,” Jake left Coyote to deal with Devin, stepping over the unconscious body on the floor as one might step over a puddle in the street. He ambled over to Rooster, whose presence had been more than enough to hold off Devin’s two buddies for the brief ten seconds of fighting, if it could even be categorized as a fight.

“Are you two,” Jake wagged a finger between Devin’s two friends as he came shoulder to shoulder with Rooster, “the ones she told me helped him out last week? Cause I gotta bone to pick with them too?”

“No, we didn’t!” The shorter of the two declared loudly. “Look, we don’t want any trouble.”

Jake’s head turned to glance back over his shoulder, and for the first time since Devin confronted you, you made eye contact with Jake.

His eyes were hard, cold, unfeeling. He wasn’t angry anymore. He wasn’t upset or worried or fearful or any of the other emotions you felt warring inside of you. The mask was back on, the unflappable exterior that only you had seen beneath before tonight. He wasn’t waiting for them; he was waiting for you. A good soldier, waiting for his orders.

Imperceptibly to everyone but Jake who was watching you like a hawk, you shook your head. This had gone on long enough already tonight. You just wanted it to be over.

“Well then,” Jake turned back to the two friends in tow. “Why don’t you take your buddy and get out of here?” Jake stepped close, towering over the shorter one as he added, “Tell him if he comes back round here to bother her again; I will spend the rest of my life making sure he’s too afraid to even look at another woman.”

Beside Jake, Rooster began casually cracking the knuckles of his fist one by one, presumably for emphasis.

There was a dull thud that drew the quad of men’s attention back towards Devin.

Payback was squatting over the unconscious man. He’d seemingly been rooting through the other man’s pockets. The sound of his wallet dropping back onto Devin’s back was the noise that drew the men’s eyes and everyone else’s watching as a result.

Payback was waving a credit card in the air in Jake’s general direction.

“Good idea,” Jake wandered over and snatched up the card. “Call it payback for disturbing the bar tonight.” Jake’s teasing smirk was back as he used Payback’s callsign. He abandoned the group to amble back towards Penny at the bar, and his absence seemed to break the tension.

The patrons, scattered around, all began slowly turning back to their tables. The conversation was quieter, hushed whispers that were no doubt mostly about the fight they’d just watched ensue, but their eyes seemed to have drank in their fill of the scene.

Under the watchful eye of Rooster, with Coyote and Payback standing by, Devin’s two friends draped their friend unceremoniously across their shoulders. Despite the struggle they were clearly having, not a soul offered to help as they stumbled under his weight out of the bar.

“I hope they have to drag him to the car.”

You jumped and turned your head to find that at some point in the chaos Phoenix and Bob had come up on the other side of the pool table as a last line of defense.

“Please, I hope they faceplant in the gravel.”

You let out a humorous laugh at Phoenix’s comment as your body finally slumped under the weight of the evening, resting back against the pool table with a huff of air.

“Are you…”

“Fritz, if you ask me if I’m okay, I will walk out of this bar right now.” You held up a finger to silence him.

You were not okay. You would be okay, one day; you knew that much. But that day was not today.

In the distance, like you were hearing an echo from the other end of a long tunnel, you registered the bell ringing for a free round. Your vision was tunneling too, but you could make out Jake was leaning across the bar, ringing the bell himself as he slammed Devin’s card on the bar in front of Penny.

Maverick, always present in front of Penny’s bar, slapped him on the back and whispered something in his ear, but Jake seemed, for once, thoroughly uninterested in his commanding officer.

His eyes, you thought, appeared to be focused on you. He left the bar before he even got his own free drink and headed straight back towards the pool tables.

Coyote and Rooster tried to talk to him, but he brushed him off. By the time he reached Fanboy, still awkwardly hovering in front of you, his destination was clear, and Fanboy slid right out of his way.

“Come on,” Jake held out a hand to you. “Penny won’t mind if you don’t finish out your shift.”

It wasn’t a tunnel you were looking through now so much as a camera, the lens zooming in and zooming out, narrowing and expanding your field of vision around Jake.

Jake, the only thing in the world right now that felt safe, that felt ok.

You numbly, clumsily, flung your hand out to grasp his, and as his fingers laced through yours you thought you might have a different answer to Fritz’s question, not that you’d ever voice it.

—————————————

“Thank you.”

It was about an hour after you and Jake had left the bar.

He’d walked you out the back door of the Hard Deck and down the beach for the better part of half an hour before the two of you wordlessly agreed to find a comfortable spot to sit down in the sand.

The silence had been more comfortable than you ever thought silence with Jake could be. Every time he’d driven you home from the Hard Deck, he’d felt the need to fill every available moment with some kind of noise, compulsively turning up the volume on the radio or making snarky, sarcastic commentary about anything that passed by the window. Silence was not Jake Seresin’s forte.

Yet the silence between the two of you had felt like a comforting blanket, wrapping you in understanding. He already knew what happened between you and Devin; the hard part of that explanation was over. He already knew why Devin was there that night, what must have prompted him to show up, what he was hinting at in front of the whole bar. He knew nothing else about you, but he knew this, knew every detail of the most painful moment of your life, and he accepted it without question, gave you what you needed without question, helped you without question.

“You don’t have to thank me for doing the right thing for once in my life, Hurricane.” Jake murmured. “It’s a nice change of pace.”

You wished you could deny that, say that Jake was a great guy, say that he always did the right thing or that he was a good man. But the truth was he often wasn’t. He was flawed, deeply so, rude when it was uncalled for, inappropriate when the moment was serious, lewd when he should have been respectful, confrontational when he should have been kind. He was as flawed as any other human being, maybe more so.

But when you needed him he was there. When no one else was there, he was there. And that, to you, forgave any multitude of sins.

“What did Mav say to you when you left?”

“What?” Jake did a quick double take, looking down at you beside him. “Oh,” He chuckled to himself. “He said, ‘Good man, no push-ups tomorrow when I shoot you down.’”

“Well,” you smiled, “I owe you a lot more than a few push ups.”

“You owe me nothing.”

You squeezed his hand, his fingers which had been laced in yours since he led you out of the Hard Deck, “How about a second chance? If I remember correctly we didn’t get off to the best start.”

Jake smirked, “Not a chance am I starting over. You’re still my Hurricane.”

11K notes · View notes

tteokdoroki · 6 months

Text

ೀ⋆OCT 31ST LEGALLY BLONDE ━━ seishiro nagi + coercion !

୨୧ — caution, you are now watching. seishiro nagi + coercion. there’s no way someone broke up with nagi because he’s too blonde!? poor baby, maybe you could provide a little emotional support…(5.5K)

୨୧ — rated r. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, heavy smut, dark content, characters aged up to 20s, college!au, strangers to lovers (?), teaching assistant/student relationship, dom/sub dynamics, some switching, reader is lifted up by nagi, coercion, dubcon, handjobs, virginity loss, cherry chasing, oral fixation, mind break, praise kink, creampies, soft sex, clothed sex, unprotected sex, TA!reader, elle woods!nagi.

୨୧ — director’s note. happy halloween my loves! i hope you enjoy the final kinktober fic! its been super fun writing and editing for you all. stay tuned for the bonus in the coming weeks <3 - m.list ⋆ kinktober m.list ⋆ taglist ✧

this law school thing wasn’t all what it cracked up to be.

after the love of his life, reo mikage, had broken up with him for someone smarter, blander and richer than him — nagi had been blessed with the genius idea of following his ex all the way to one of the top law schools in the world. the plan was practically fool proof, the guys at his sorority worked hard to help seishiro study — pulling all nighters for practice tests and rewarding him with naps every time he had gotten a question right.

rin itoshi had even convinced his parents to reach out to a hollywood director so that they could film nagi’s audition tape. it obviously featured isagi and bachira too. nagi had even worn his best designer swim trunks to impress the board of admissions. they’d all been super supportive of the light haired male in his endeavours and were there when he passed his LSAT exam

with all of this combined, he had managed to get in in — if that wasn’t enough for reo, then what was?

the answer? nothing.

reo still wanted that bland, basic bitch his family was marrying him off to. she was sensible, she was rich and seishiro quickly realised that he had only ever been a bit of ditzy fun to reo — a dumb blonde to stick his dick into whenever the time felt right. eye candy and nothing more. balancing his shattering hard with the complexities of law school had been tough for the white haired male and everything seemed to be going wrong. no one would study with him, reo wouldn’t even look at him and his friends back home were busy with the wedding plans nagi so desperately wished he had.

however, that’s when you came along.

after having the epiphany that he didn’t need reo to succeed — nagi knuckles down and studied hard for the law firm internship being offered amongst his cohort. he was relieved to have you as a teaching assistant in the process, not only were you absolutely gorgeous but you were compassionate and empathetic. you were smart, eloquent and everything seishiro wished he could be for his ex.

perhaps that’s what drew him to you, why he followed your every word like a puppy drooling after a treat. you’d been kind to nagi for the entire semester, from helping him out with studying for the internship right down to today, where he would be taking on his very first case in a court of law. it should have been easy, the facts were simple too. the client and fellow fraternity brother (shidou ryousei) was accused of and arrested for the murder of his wife… but something about the events weren’t seeming to add up. nagi couldn’t come up with an alibi either.

it was as if the words; the reasonings, the justification for shidou’s freedom were right in front of grey-scale eyes, only scrambled up like morse code. “how about we take a break?” as if you were a vision from his dreams or an angel from up above, you appear behind nagi’s tall frame as he slumps defeatedly against the hotel room desk — your hands fixing themselves to his broad shoulders for a massage. “you’ve been at this all night, seishiro.”

the law student swears your touch could heal all human ailments, the warmth of your palms seeping into the tense parts of his muscles like a cell performing diffusion — relaxation forming a comfortable fog over his brain. “i know shidou didn’t do it,” nagi defends with a grumpy pout, leaning back into you so that his head rests lazily against your stomach. “he told me… he said he was getting liposuction.”

“we’ll need evidence of that,” you note, jerking your head to the side so that nagi can write it down. this entire time you’d been such a good mentor. “good boy.” something clicks in the light-haired male’s brain, a crackle of electricity shooting down his spine at your praise — swirling around in his guts as if to activate arousal. “run me through the witness statements again.” there’s a sensual lilt to the tone of your voice and your touch cascades from his shoulders up to his neck like a backwards flowing waterfall.

seishiro isn’t sure if he’s making things up or reading the signs correctly — but he knows that there’s some kind of tension bubbling in the air. particles that resemble an aphrodisiac using kinetic energy to collide together, painting the room with lustful colours. “shidou’s step daughter says she heard a gunshot around 2:15pm after leaving the shower, walkin’ downstairs only to find shidou hangin’ over his wife’s body — covered in blood. ugh, this is too much hassle. this doesn’t make any sense!” he tosses an annoyed sigh into quietness of the room, moaning in surprise when you cup the base of nagi’s neck to pull his head up to face you and your eyes meet.

“you need a break seishiro, we can come back to this later,” you hum, the vibrations of your voice laced with sex appeal. as he swallows thickly, the law student’s Adam’s apple bobs under the pressure of your fairy-light grip on his throat — anticipating more from you. at this point, you’re half bent over him as he leans back in the chair, pink tongue slowly darting out to cover your lips in a spit shine. “how about it?”

this feels so wrong. nagi’s cock stirring beneath his slacks at how good and kind you’re acting towards him. no one has ever gotten him this hot before — no one aside from reo. and you were still his teacher, by technicality, it would be wrong for nagi to even consider sucking your tongue down his throat. and yet, he can’t find it in himself to stop the temperature from rising between you, for falling into your dangerously salacious trap.

“y-yeah,” he breathes deep when you squeeze his throat a little to test the waters. “i could do with a break.”

“me too,” you gasp all too agreeably, bending the rest of the way down to capture seishiro’s lips in a searingly hot kiss. just as he wished you pry his mouth open with the tip of your curious tongue — pushing through his plush lips and curling around his own pink appendage. the lip lock is passionate, ravenous despite the mess and spit that you exchange. he chases your lips until he can’t breathe, sloppily accepting anything you give him, letting you lead where he can’t.

he’s never done this before, not like this, not without reo. but in this moment, the silver-blonde doesn’t think he could ever go back to making out with his ex. not now that you’re the one kissing him.

“i-i've never done any of this before.” the blonde gulps, swallowing down the copious amount of spit that builds on the palette of his tongue — looking into your eyes as a sense of hunger dawns on him, as if you’re the very meal he’s set to devour. “not without anyone that wasn’t—“

reo.

sure they’d done stuff together. naughty touches here and there, hands ghosting over boxer briefs and fingers tweaking nipples (sei’s were especially sensitive because of the cute little piercings his ex insisted he get) — but nothing close to actual sex, nothing with a girl, nothing with someone like you. a burning heat, unlike anything nagi’s ever felt before, begins to brew in his lower stomach. his cock rises beneath his pants that suddenly feel all too tight.

nagi’s girth twitches against his thigh as your nails rake their way down his chest and slowly pop open the buttons of his crisply pressed white shirt. it heaves beneath his clothes — heart hammering against its calcium cage of his ribs.

“i can tell, pretty boy.” you soothe him by purring into the shell of his ear, teeth tugging at the softness of his lobe. “but you’re a good kisser though. did reo teach you that?” your lips cascade down to his neck like a gentle flowing river at the same time that your hands delve below the belt to squeeze at seishiro’s swelling erection — testing the waters.

his hips instinctively buck up into the warmth of your palm and a grin spreads across your plush lips at the feeling of his precum soaking his underwater and smearing across your fingers in thick, clingy webs.

white and seedy and he’s nowhere close to cumming. almost like a little virgin.

“have you ever done this before, seishiro?”

the sound of his name, salaciously spelt out on his tongue, earns you a high pitched whine from nagi — his head rolling to the side and his thighs squeezing together with vicious need. “n-no,” he pauses before he grunts out a response and his entire body seizes as you take a firmer grip on his cock — jamming a thumb into his leaky slit to spread his arousal. “but i wanted to i just… reo said not until marriage—��

“— you don’t have to listen to reo anymore.” you announce breathily, setting a steady pace to your fist to jerk him off with. you’ve barely started and yet your hand is already glossed in a slight sheen of pre, soiling your knuckles from its viscousness. it’s so much for someone who’s never gone father than sloppy kisses and grinding while making out. it nurtures a certain seed of satisfaction in your chest to see him so messy so fast. “you can listen to me, sweet boy. do you want this… do you want it with me?”

without letting go of the fat, drippy cock within your grasp — you shift to stand between the desk and nagi’s chair, shoving papers and court notes to the ground in your lustful haze. nagi thrusts lazily into your closed fist as if it’s instinct, following the sensation like a moth takes to a candle light. his grey eyes grow murky like a pond, swimming with desire for you and only you.

who was reo mikage to seishiro nagi? when there was an angel like you willing to feed this inexperienced man morsels of a heavenly pleasure he’s never felt before. the lawyer in training nods at your words like an eager man fallen to siren’s song as bait. “i want you,” he whimpers airily. “i wanna with you.”

you rub down his thick, lengthy dick far enough to have your fingertips briefly brush against seishiro’s sensitive, weightly balls — just pulsing full of seed to give to you. the feeling makes nagi jump up from his seat so that he immediately towers over you. his height doesn’t overwhelm you, not when the towering blonde collapses onto you with a case of the shakes. he trembles above you, supporting himself by using one hand on the table while is mouth sloppily finds your neck to suck on and pacify himself.

“good boy, sei,” you coo, voice as sweet as hot sugar or candy. “i want you too. i always have. you’re such a pure, darling boy. glad to see that it’s true.” your praise is hidden in your soft moans as seishiro licks at the crystalline salt on your bare skin. you’re a little too twisted, taking advantage of his inexperience and his position beneath you as a student, but neither of you seem to care in this very moment.

sweat beads against nagi’s hairline like diamonds on an expensive Chanel necklace and roses bloom across his cheeks with exertion — his hips rise and fall into your sticky fist in fluid motions, changing the steady stream of ecstasy you provide him. your hand is a solace for his aching cock, but you still make your student work for it. make nagi chase you since he only works hard for the things he wants. and right now, he wants to reach the end of the tight rope of pleasure you have him walking on. and to stave off the stormy frustration he feels from the case.

your hand wriggles it’s way into his wet silver locks, dragging nagi’s hungry mouth over yours since he’s so desperate to taste you, to have at you. it shows in the way he roughly grabs your hips too, grip so tight it threatens to leave bruises he’ll have to apologise for later. “ngh… please. g-god. miss…a-angel please,” he stutters, his bucking into your hand faster and harder, back and forth, back and forth through the tight ring of your fist. his bright and angry red cockhead peeks through the other side, glazed in opaque white — it’s a nice feeling, blistering hot and sensitive. “i…hah… gotta—“

nagi’s lashes flutter against your cheek — a strained whine reverbing in the base of his throat while you let him fuck your hands to his heart’s content, let him chase this new pleasure he’s never known. let him fall from the high heavens with blackened and burnt angel’s wings. you make him sin, for the first time ever. something about this should feel off to nagi, his law teacher taking advantage of him like this — but at this point, he’s too far gone, drowning in a hellfire of lust.

mocking his moans, your mouth falls open in one of your own as you follow along with the pitiful expressions crossing the contours of seishirou’s face. “what is it, sei? what do you need?”

the room is too hot. your bodies against each other are temperate in the sex tainted air — accompanied by wet slapping sounds from your hand around his throbbing cock. “n-need to let go. it h-hurts,” he sniffles out, forcing his tongue into your mouth again to calm himself down. the more you speed up, remorselessly jerking him off, the closer nagi gets to the end of his own tether. this sensation is unfamiliar, the crumbling foundation of his orgasm coming crashing down as you fling droplets of his precum and arousal about the place — some of it landing on your clothes, the desk and discarded papers.

again, neither of you care.

“surrender to me baby, it’s okay. i’ve got you.” guiding the pale blonde through his first ever orgasm, you pour your heated words into his slobbering mouth — tongue running over his pearly white teeth and tangling with his drool coated tongue. that’s all sei needs to hear before he crumples against you with a shout — the first wave of his high crashing over him and pulling him under.

it’s world shattering, brain melting as he cums. his abdomen contracts under your never-ending touch, ropes of hot white dribbling from his stimulated tip like a tap that keeps running. nagi swears he almost blacks out, falling dizzy and victim to your lustful charms as he twitches and cums and cums into your soiled palm.

“f-fuck,” a soft whimper bubbles up on his raw bitten lips, stuttered out in suprise. “w-what was that?”

“you orgasmed for me, sei, so pretty baby.” comes another set of your gentle praises. he feels his entire body wrack with a shakes at your words, his cock doesn’t dare to soften either. “you look so good when you cum.”

his greyish-brownish eyes roll back into his skull when you let him go, his tip slapping against his clothed tummy. the brush of his cotton shirt against the slit on his tip makes him writhe from the sensitivity. “c-can i cum for you again? promise i’ll keep being good.”

“of course,” you grin, proud that to have corrupted the poor boy. “are you okay to let me touch you again or do you want it now?”

“touch me. now.” he growls, gripping your hand and guiding it towards his dribbling shaft, aiding the movement of your palm around him to start slow and lazy — working seishiro up into a heat once more. this time, the way your hand languidly jerks him off is made smooth by the evidence of his last orgasm, which you now use as lube. if you weren’t pressed for time and with a court case first thing tomorrow, you would have gotten onto your knees to clean up his copious amounts of mess.

you quickly reduce him to a babbling mess against you, drool laden on his tongue and dripping onto his skin as you drive your thumb over nagi’s hot tip in tight circles with your free hand — touching what doesn’t fit in the other. “reo treated you so badly, poor baby,” you mewl sweetly, kitten licking at his pulse point just below his neck. “you work so hard, you deserve so much better. you deserve me.”

he believes you, blindly and naively. nodding tenderly despite the way he widely fucks both of your hands as if they’re a makeshift hole — warm and slick, all for him. dopamine shocks him at the stem of his brain, spreading throughout his body like a wildfire only you can tame — it burns so good and feels even better to have your dainty, perfectly manicured fingers wrap around his chubby girth so deliciously.

for a moment, you let seishiro go to squeeze at his heavy breeder’s balls — noticing the way they pulsate in your palm to signify the pale blonde’s second impending orgasm. “i think…hah… i think ‘m gonna… c-cum! again!”

pushing at his shirt, you press a kiss to the creamy skin of nagi’s shoulder and hum pridefully. “thank you for letting me know, sweetheart. cum for me. give it to me.”

with your permission granted, another blinding ecstasy takes over nagi, and he falls victim to you and your merciless hands once again. blood rushes through his ears like a storm surge, drowning at your angel coos while you guide him through his high, never letting up as you palm him through it all. he quivers and his knees buckle, shooting a hot and hefty load of seed all over your hand and clothes and the papers nearby. “o-oh! fuck…” nagi chokes on a weak sob, bleating like an innocent lamb at the slaughter house while he weighed against your shorter frame — allowing you to bare the brunt of his weight and height.

he’s so pretty when he cums, silvering blonde locks matted to his forehead by sweat — cheeks pink and lips swollen and red. if you could, you’d swallow him whole and selfishly devour your student for all that he has to offer. silly little blonde, stupid for trusting you, for wanting to fuck you.

your hand doesn’t slow around his pulsing cock but instead speeds up, digging your thumb into his oozing slit as arousal pearls at its centre once more. “n-no, s’too much.” seishiro cries quietly, tears stinging a pathway down the apples of his milky cheeks. “it hurts.”

“poor you, poor baby.” you say harshly, mocking the poor blonde’s sniffles and hiccups. he’s exhausted and frustrated but doesn’t dare to pull away — his hips running after your hand hungrily. “you’re so cute sei, panting for me like a bitch in heat, fucking my hand like the dumb little blonde you are.” he hisses at the overstimulation, gargles on spit as it floods his mouth to accompany his appetite for you.

“i’m not…ngh… ‘m not dumb.” he whinges in response and before either of you know it, seishiro is cumming again. hard. soiling his lap with abundant amounts of white. his chest heaves as he comes down, collapsing against you. he might deny it later, but being dumbed down and reduced to a stupid blonde seemed to really do it for him.

finding his lips again, you soothe nagi with short and sweet kisses that grow more feverish by his own demand. all of a sudden you find yourself pinned to the desk below with the tall blonde between your instinctually parted legs so that he can grind against your panty clad core. “you’re…you’re right,” you say, breathing deep through your nose as your composure threatens to fall apart. “you’re so smart, sei. you’re the best lawyer on our team but…” bucking your hips once, you lower your voice by an octave so that your words slip through his ears like molten chocolate. “you’re acting like a dumb slut right now. don’t you wanna be my dumb slut, sei?”

his palm flattens against the mahogany desk just above your head, caging you in against its cold surface. “y-yes i do, oh fuck. please lemme fuck you. lemme be inside. i’ll be good.”

“are you sure, baby?”

“please—“

“but sei,” you brush a stray hair that curls at the centre of his forehead, the dumb blonde looking down at you with swimming grey eyes because he’s so needy. “it’d be your first time…”

his face scrunches, nose crinkled at its bridge and brows knitted together in frustration. now that nagi’s had a taste of your sinful elixir he can’t seem to stop, you’re like a drug an addict can’t quit. something that could ruin his life or future prospects if he doesn’t get help. and yet he can’t look away, can’t pull his body away from yours and his achy dick from between your thighs — instead leaning closer so that it sinks between your plush pussy lips.

nagi licks his lips, tongue rolling over his bottom one as he pants desperately. “please angel,” comes his broken beg, hanging pathetically in the sex tainted hair. “i need you. need it so bad. please please please— mph—!”

satisfied with his begging, you shove a set of cum soaked digits past the swell of seishiro’s pretty lips — chuckling darkly as his tongue laps over and in between them, and he whines at the salty taste of his arousal on your skin. “atta boy,” you coo, thrusting deep into the hot cavern of his mouth until the pale blonde gags around you, swallowing your fingers down like they’re a cock. he sucks so obediently, so desperately as if to please. like a good student too — and all the while, you work on kicking off your panties and flipping up your skirt so that he can get a nice rewarding view of your glistening cunt.

“c’mere,” you reach out to the blonde and he leans into you, letting you wrap an arm around his shoulders to keep him in place. “sei,” you gasp at the first contact of his thick, long shaft against your throbbing wet mound — mouth agape as if you’ve taken a gunshot wound to the chest. “do you know how to do this, smart boy? do you know how to fuck?”

nagi nods, pressing his forehead to yours while his hips jut forward on their own and his seedy tip brushes against your pearling clit so deliciously. at first, his movements are lax and the room is filled with the lewd squelches of your sexes moving over one another, but your breathing soon grows ragged and the salacious bump and grind becomes stickier and wetter.

“u-uhuh.” he mumbles in response.

he’s so good for you even when his mouth is full and his mind is dazed, sucking on your fingers while he lets you overwhelm him. however, the blonde is only so well behaved and patient, and it’s not long before he slips his girth past the tight ring of your entrance without any warning. his fingertips dance up to your waist, grabbing at the fat there and using it as leverage to drag you to the edge of the table so he can sink into you further.

“oh…fucking hell!” you whimper wetly against the junction of nagi’s neck, nails digging into his shoulders to steady yourself while he sets the pace to your sinful dance. he’s bigger than what you expected (despite mapping his girth out with your hands), stretching your sloppy walls wide to accommodate for his size. you don’t complain, however, eyes rolling as he brushes up against pleasure spots you could never reach on your own. “o-oh baby, fuck me.”

you pull your fingers out of his mouth with a lewd pop, desperate to hear the symphony of his sweet, low and sexy moans instead of having them muffled by your fingers while he fucks you for the first time. the pale blonde can hardly believe it — having your warmth wrapped around him and your cunt drool down on him like a waterfall.

the law student throws his weight into fucking you, bullying his way into the deepest parts of your womb to slothfully fuck up your gooey insides. your cunt, your moans, your whole body has some kind of control over nagi — dumbing him down and reducing him to a sex crazed mess. to the point where he can’t even remember his ex’s name. he’s a mop of pale blonde hair and sweaty clothes, entirely hunched over you.

“y-you’re so tight,” he tells you in a dreamy sigh, lost in the heat of your core. nagi’s grabs at your pudgy thighs and drags you back and forth onto his dick, the new deepness to his thrusts causing you to squeeze and froth around the fat base of nagi’s cock. “hah, feels so…so good.”

wrapping your shaky legs around his slender waist, you offer up the same treatment to nagi — pulling him close to the point where he’s buried in your sluice sex right up to the hilt. his precum smears against your ribbed walls and his broken whimper echoes around your hotel room. “that’s it, fuck me like you fucked my hand, sweet boy.” lust sparks against your sex slicked bodies, your breasts bouncing with every one of nagi’s calculated yet sloppy thrusts. you can’t get enough of one another, clinging and clawing at one another’s bodies madly. “you can do it, prove to reo that you don’t need him. only me.”

“o-only you.” nagi repeats weakly, tucking his face into your neck as he pounds you to the high heavens. the desk creaks beneath the force of his thrusts, threatening to break at the nails and bolts that hold it together. his eyelashes flutter against your skin, his low and deep moans mixed with high pitched gasps send a hot rush of dopamine across your brain and it really is all too much.

nagi’s already cum three times and managed to fold you in half over his desk as a virgin. he feel as though he might break with how much he loves this, loves fucking you senseless. another fresh set of tears burn tracks down his face and gather in his unfairly long lashes as they tickle your skin. he hiccups and heaves against you, whilst his breathing grows ragged every time his glistening cock escapes the snugness of your tight pussy, precum stringing along your puffy folds.

“so good baby, s-so fucking good!” your voice is broken and husky as you praise him, making his dick pulse against your g-spot over and over again. you’re fairing no better than he is, your skin blistering hot to the touch and bruised from how tight your student is gripping you — pulling you back onto his cock.

the pale blonde feels though he might burst, cream your insides like he did your hand and ruin that pretty skirt of yours — the one that sticks to his pelvis because of how close your bodies are. it’s rubbed him raw while he fucks you raw. “‘m i the best?” seishiro asks, cherishing the embrace of your viscous walls, his shaft coated in a crude mix of white as it froths from your tight little hole. “t-tell me i’m the best…”

“t-the best i’ve ever had! f-fuck, sei!” you squeal in response, only egging the law student on, babbling your praises while fat droplets of your arousal flies about the place — painting nagi’s pelvis in a shiny gloss, curling in his white happy trail as well.

“‘m the best. i’m the best for you.” grunting from the exertion and the very force of his own thrusts, seishiro wraps both of his strong arms around your middle and stands up from the table — taking you with him. at the new angle, the coil in your stomach only tightens and you fling your arms around his neck to prepare yourself for what’s to come next. “s’not enough, not deep enough. fuuuck you’re so wet and warm. i-i can’t,” he drawls lowly, nipping at the shell of your ear on instinct.

that’s when seishiro begins to use his sheer strength to lift and drop you back onto his thick girth, fucking up into you at the exact same time. “g-good god!” you cry out, your impending orgasm prickling at your pelvis — shooting down each section of your spine. all of it only serves to spur nagi on.

“give me your fingers,” he demands huskily, cantering into you from bellow — your juices running a steamy track down his heavy balls as they harshly smack against your peachy ass. “wan’ suck on ‘em. give ‘em.”

you don’t have time to register his ask because he grabs your wrist before your mind can even catch up (too occupied with the way he’s churning up your guts) and has two of your fingers in his eager little mouth — sucking on them diligently. you shudder as nagi runs his tongue between them, coats them in spit and drool that tracks across his chin once he’s done with them.

“touch yourself for me?” he pleads through a wet whine, almost too innocently. “wanna see you cum this time.”

it’s only then that you realise he’s been holding himself back, staving off his orgasm so he can see you writhe and gush all for him. the overstimulation must be burning at his brain, sizzling off his nerve endings and it’s probably more than the dumb little blonde virgin can take. so you do as he asks, trailing your spit slicked fingers between your bodies as they grind down on one another and you with your sensitive clit, pulling its hood back to draw tight circles over the pleasure nub.

“o-oh! seishiro!”

“that’s right, touch yourself f’me. wanna see you lose it like you make me lose it,” he moans softly constraining with how rough nagi pounds up into you. one of his hands slips from your hips to grope at your ass, pushing you down on him and forcing his cock to grind against that one special spot threatening to make you break. “‘m sorry,” he whimpers as though he’s going to cry. “d-don’t think i can hold back, angel.”

“then don’t,” you gasp at the new friction, holding onto your last strings of sanity as you fumble with your clit tucked away between your ravaged folds. “i know you wanna cum for me, sei. l-let go, yeah? wanna see you break for me, like a good blonde slut.”

your encouragement doesn’t give seishiro much choice, and while he’s in control of your bodies — his lean, strong frame anchoring you down onto his cock as it bullies your insides, you are in control of his mind. you destroy his train of thought, ruin the self-made man he was and send him tumbling into his final high. nagi’s orgasm breaks the surface viciously, pouring another load of his cum against your ripe and rippling walls. there’s still so much of it, the warm and viscous white seeping from your cunt and smearing all over your hot mound.

the force of nagi’s high is so strong that he nearly drops you, just about managing to pin you safely to the desk once more. he’s still cumming and cumming and cumming — but that doesn’t stop him from thrusting into you hard and fast, desperate to trigger your orgasm so he can reward himself. it doesn’t take long, he’d already had you seated on the edge before his mind had shattered to pieces just from fucking you.

you gush down his length and all over what remains of your shitty case notes (he probably didn’t need them anyways) with a pornographic shout when you finally hit your peak. it’s like the crescendo of a beautiful song — the world around you spinning and flashing white as you squirt and gush for the white haired lawyer.

“f-fuck.” you giggle with a soft smile, fatigue washing over the both of you come down from the gates of heaven — crashing back down to earth with ecstasy still buzzing in your veins. “good boy, sei. you did so good for me,” you hum softly. “do you feel any better?”

seishiro looks up at you from where his heavy frame has collapsed on your chest — clothes sweaty and askew, and offers you a lazy grin in return. “better,” he mumbles meekly and kisses a slither of your exposed skin, still grinding his seed into you as if to make sure it sticks. “thank you.”

bringing a hand up to toy with his hair and soothing him, you nod. “good, we should get some rest, you’ve got a big trial tomorrow, pretty boy.”

“do you think I can do it?”

“i know you can, sei.” you scratch at his scalp. “i meant it. what i said earlier. you’re the best lawyer on our team. shidou’s defence stands a pretty good chance.”

nagi grins once more, only this time he leans up to press a chaste kiss to your unexpecting mouth — pouring all of his gratefulness into it.

because thanks to you, he feels more confident about the trial, — almost as if he’s won the trial already. and even if nagi goes lose, at least he’s won you over.

2K notes · View notes

b-00-biez · 1 year

Text

"Slashers with an S/o who cries when people shout at them"

Warning: cursing and a bit of angst

Characters: Bo Sinclair, Thomas Hewitt, Brahms Heelshire

Bo Sinclair

You and bo have fights but never to the point he yells or shouts at you. This time he was really angry because a victim escaped.

"I TOLD YOU TO WATCH THEM FOR ONE SECOND AND THEY ESCAPED, IT WAS THAT SIMPLE"

You bite your lip refusing to talk back as you lower your head until he is finished.

He sighed and made you look up at him. You were crying, big tears flow from your eyes as you looked at him. Your lips quivering and you looked away.

You both stood there until Bo broke and gave you a hug

It wasnt like those apology hugs your mom made you do to make up with your siblings

It was very sincere and tight

"I'm sorry doll, I don't know what came over me. I'm sorry for raising my voice at you. " he whispered in your ear so soft and gentle.

He sat you both down while you're in his lap as he caresses your back. You both stayed there holding each other in your arms.

He told Lester to find the victim which he did and killed so it was problem solved.

From today on he never raised his voice when he got angry, you both communicated better and you two would make up pretty quickly.

If any of his brothers did the same to yell at you then he would be throwing hands

All in all he learned to be gentle with you which his brothers never ever thought he could do

Thomas Hewitt

Thomas already knew you cried when being shouted at

Hoyt was never really a good tempered person and will degrade your self esteem the chance he gets but you would suck the tears back up and wont let Thomas know what happened.

This time it was something different

"YOU FUCKING WHORE, ALL THE SHIT YOU DID WILL PASS THROUGH TOMMY BUT NOT ME"

You were shivering, Luda mae was not there to save you or beat this bitch and tommy was busy in the basement.

Hoyt raised a hand at you, as you squinted your eyes to brace yourself of the impact you hear..

"Aye tommy i-i was kidding.. hehe.. your little doll there was..AAAAA"

Tommy was standing in between you and hoyt , holding the man's hand back.

Tommy almost choked him to death if it werent for Luda Mae finally getting home.

Your boyfriend kept you in his arms like a baby as he rocks you.

He mumbles and grunts to give encouragement

He wont let anyone of his family yell nor harm you

Brahms Heelshire

You weren't the best of care takers. You always followed the rules so you wont anger Brahms.

But since Malcohlm was running late and you needed the groceries you have no choice but to go to the store

You planned to just have a quick trip so that when you come back Brahms wont even notice. But he did , he saw you walk out that gate.

Brahms is an impatient man, a minute of you gone it's been hours to him. But when you come back.

He stormed screaming at you

"YOU BROKE THE RULES, YOU DARE LEAVE ME ALONE LIKE MY PARENTS?! YOURE HORRIBLE "

You tried to explain yourself with incoherent mumbles as you shake. He towers over you going silent, Hes just looking at you!

You broke down and into a ball

Brahms started to feel bad, at least you came back for him.

He left you alone and slid your favorite snack over to you as he sits on the floor with you

In his childish voice he started to say sorry , patting your head gently

If you're both stuck in this house he might as well treat you better

He hugs you not letting go until you stopped crying

-Just a quick reminder that if you experience this in real life from a spouse its best to leave them, although fights are normal among relationships they shouldnt mistreat you either way💕

#slasher fucker #slasher x you #slashers x reader #slasher imagines #slasher headcanons #brahms heelsire x reader #brahms the boy #brahms x you #bo sinclair #house of wax #slasher fluff #thomas hewitt headcanon #thomas hewitt #bo sinclair headcanons

6K notes · View notes

ashhh-14 · 10 days

Text

The Final Victor

Husband!Aventurine x Reader

Synopsis : He kisses you during an argument

Warning : spoiler behind the final victor scene (vague dw), vague mentions of character life threatening choices, argument and the usual that goes with the title, oh and kissing of course

Link of full art here by @bluepapermints

You took a deep breath, rubbing your temples as you plopped down onto the sofa.

"C'mon Treasure its not that big of a deal." He brushed off once more.

"Aventurine it's not a fucking joke!" Your voice raised a tad higher, your eyes bloodshot red as you glared daggers at your husband after he told you about what had happened when he was with Veritas yesterday.

"When did I say it is?" His tone dropped a little lower, the aloof look on his face vanishing as he took a step closer to you.

"When will you stop taking your life as a joke?" Your voice betrayed you as a drop of vulnerability seeped into it.

You heard the man sigh at that, making his way over to you and dropping to his knees, ushering you to look into his eyes as he clasped both your hands.

"Nothing's gonna happen to me Treasure. Giathta Triclops has her blessings upon me. I'll always be the final victor"

You sucked in a sharp breath at that, eyes closing momentarily as you tried to push back a wave of mixed emotions as he waited patiently for your response of understanding.

When your eyes opened again, they bore into his, resolute as you tried reasoning with him once again.

"Pulling the trigger against your chest thrice to prove your luck isn't a gamble Aventurine." There was a slight waver in your voice as your mind flashed with the possibilities of what could have happened.

His grip on your hands tightened. "Nothing will happen to me."

Your resolve broke at that. He can't see things from your point of view even for once no matter how much you try.

You stood up abruptly, hands leaving his grip as you started making your way towards the door.

"Where are you going?" His voice got closer as he followed you, waiting for an answer.

You gave him a pensive look as your hand reached towards your coat near the rack. "I can't stay here right now. I'll be back soon."

Coat handing off your arm in a haste, you went to open the door but a strong hand slammed it close again, other coming to grip your wrist.

You went to retort, definitely about to say something you were going to regret when his lips smashed into yours in a bruising kiss.

You kissed back on instinct, forgetting the argument momentarily as it was second nature to kiss your husband's lips.

A lone tear slipped your eye when he pulled away, his thumb quickly brushing it away as he kissed your forehead tenderly, a stark contrast to the kiss you two shared seconds ago as he pulled you in his arms.

His hand ran up and down soothingly against your back as he propped his chin on your head, his voice a soothing murmur.

"You have to trust me when it comes to this Treasure. But... If it makes things any better, I'll try my very best to not gamble on myself again."

Aventurine Masterlist

Masterlist

Written by yours truly

622 notes · View notes

rubydubydoo122 · 5 months

Text

I've seen a lot of discourse about who the angry Robin was, but like... why do we have to define the Robins in terms of that?

Dick's Robin embodied Light. He was the Foil to Batman's Darkness. His story is meant to parallel Bruce's and it's because of the reason he became Robin in the first place. He became Robin, not to avenge his parents- he didn't want to kill Tony Zucco. He became Robin in a very similar way that Jason became the Red Hood; To make sure it doesn't happen to anyone again.

Jason's Robin embodied Hope. He was a character who was given opportunities and he made the best of them. He was given a home, and a family, and education and he loved it all because at some point he could only hope to have those things. It gave him the outlook of 'If things could get better for me, than things can get better for other people, if I do what I can help them.' To Jason, Robin meant giving people hope, and that's why Jason was deeply affected by Gloria Stanson's death. She had lost hope.

Tim's Robin embodied Determination. No matter how many times he was rejected by Bruce, he still stood by his side. No matter how many of his family and friends died, he still kept fighting. No matter how hard he was beat, he still got up.

Stephanie's Robin didn't have a long run, and I sadly don't really know how to quantify her Robin. Maybe spite, I feel like. Because she became Spoiler to stop her dad, and be like 'haha, L' and also because she became Robin after her and Tim broke up. Idk, if any of you have a better idea pls tell me

Damian's Robin embodied redemption. You can tell from the beginning of his run, to current comics how much he has grown and changed. When he was younger, he didn't really understand how the LOA morals were wrong, but then he learned, and he's constantly trying to move away from that and lead with more compassion in his own Damian way.

Duke's Robin embodied the people. He was what they needed at the time. I don't really know much about his Robin either, so pls lmk if it's not that.

#dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #stephanie brown #damian wayne #duke thomas #robin #nightwing #red hood #red robin #spoiler dc #batgirl #signal #batfam #what it means to be robin

798 notes · View notes

nervoussagittarius · 26 days

Text

to win or not to win

chris sturniolo x reader

summary: chris and his girlfriend do a twitch stream together and compete at who’s the better fortnite player, request

warnings: fluffy, language

it wasn’t unusual for you and chris to get into friendly competitions. most of them ended in a temper tantrum from one of you, but they were innocent nonetheless.

todays topic of discussion was ‘whos the better fortnite player’. although chris had been playing for a significant amount of time longer than you, you were sure you could hold your own. especially, because chris was the one to teach you how to play.

you both we’re confident in your skills, so the only logical way to decide was to take it to twitch and let the viewers watch the showdown.

“okay guys so here’s what’s happening today. y/n and i are having the fortnite championship and you guys are here to witness” chris said as he took the seat next to you. a very serious look was etched on his face

you looked at him with a raised eyebrow and a look that said ‘really?’

“while we wait for mr. dramatic to calm down i’ll tell you why we’re really here. chris thinks he’s better at fortnite then me.” you said. there was a slight pause before both of you broke into laughter and fell into eachother.

you continued as chris placed his head on your shoulder and watched the chat, “i don’t think chris is better a fortnite then me. so we’re gonna play a few rounds and see who has the best outcomes.”

“yeah so basically we’re gonna be playing 3 rounds, and when we finish we’re going to see who had the overall higher placings.” chris explained.

“that’s quite literally what i just said. thank you for repeating me, love”

“that’s quite literally what i just fucking said” chris mimicked as he poked your side to agitate you.

“stop it” you said giggling, trying to slap his hand away from you.

chris had the split screen set up on his pc. it was a tight fit but you guys were going to make it work. this argument needed to be settled.

the first two games went smoothly. trash talk was being thrown and so were elbows. you both didn’t mind playing dirty. lines had been crossed to many times to count, but it was all in fun.

“it all comes down to this, ma. so far we each have a first and second place finish” chris said cracking his knuckles. no matter how hard he tried, he wasn’t intimidating anyone.

the game went smoothly for a while. you were both able to get through with out any scratches. it was down to the last ten when chris noticed you leg start bouncing in anticipation and nervousness.

as much as chris hated to admit it, he didn’t want to see you lose. he loved seeing how excited you got whenever you win a competition between the two of you, and this was a game chris was willing to throw.

chris looked at you, then at the game before him, then back at you. he could see the distress on your face and he hated it.

“dude i don’t even fucking know where these guys are coming from!” you exclaimed as you started firing random shots to try to hit someone.

you guys were now in the final four. chris made his way over to your character and quickly took out one on the guys shooting at you. you were able to get the other one out not long after that.

“oh fuck chris. please don’t shoot. please don’t shoot. please” you repeat over and over as you tried to get the perfect aim on chris’s player. without warning chris pretended to fumble his controller, dropping it to the ground.

“oh shit!”

this gave you the perfect opportunity to kill chris’s character and win the game and the overall competition between the two of you.

“yes!” you yelled as you threw your arms up and jumped out of your chair.

“oh my fuck. no chance. i just fucking won.”

you did a celebratory lap around chris’s room. chris winked at the camera and held his finger up to his lips telling the chat to not spoil the fact that she is let you win. when you made it back to him you held his face in your hands.

he looked up at you as you said, “you we’re good. simply just not good enough.” you leaned down to place a short peck on his lips and held out your hand for him to shake. he instead grabbed your hand pulling you down to sit on his lap.

“you know chris, me winning really just proves how good you are at fortnite because you taught me everything i know”

chris groaned in joking frustration as he nuzzled his head into the crook of you neck. he placed soft kisses around the area as you watched the chat congratulate your win.

chris finally picked his head up, “thank you guys so much for watching me get my ass kicked by my girlfriend i-”

“kinky.” you interrupted.

“okay that’s it” chris stood up, picking you up by your waist at the same time. he walked over to his bed and gently threw you down. swiftly, he ran back over to his desk chair, taking a seat.

“as i was saying, thanks for watching and we’ll see you again soon”

“bye!” you said blowing a kiss to the camera.

an: this one’s cute. i didn’t want it to seem identical to matt’s so i hope y’all enjoy it🤍

#matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo smut #matt x reader #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fluff #chris x reader #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo

411 notes · View notes

luv4fushi · 5 months

Note

omfg i litr read everything uve written off ur masterlist I NEED MOREEEE. i love the way u write megumi especially, i couldn’t get enough of it. i hope you write more of him, my heart aches for more tbh 🥹 tysm for being such a good writer and feeding us starved readers well

tysm! i'm sooo glad i can be a good source of megumi content for you >_< i looove writing megumi so you'll be seeing sooo much more of him, dw! happy holidays!

this december

jjk fushiguro megumi x fem!reader

it’s always colder on your own, especially around this time of year. you should be at home, bundled up with a warm cup of hot chocolate, but here you are in shinjuku, exorcizing curses with your ex boyfriend two weeks after your breakup with him. great.

content: post break up, aged up megumi (19/20), megumi is terrible at feelings, getting back together, fluff if you squint, a bit of angst, miscommunication, one bed (but it isn’t the main plot point sorry), megumi calls you baby like once, gojo is the best wingman, SHIBUYA ARC NEVER HAPPENED AND LIFE IS GOOD, not proofread im very sorry guys pls forgive me, kinda a word dump sry

word count: 5.8k (sigh this was supposed to be 2k words max)

click on my masterlist for more & merry christmas to those who celebrate!

it’s december 19th when satoru gojo tells you that he has a mission just for you. you’re less than ecstatic about it to say the least. the last thing you want to do is be sent to your death just shy of christmas day. you just want to rest your sore muscles and bask in the presence of your best friends. you’re not in the mood to kill any curses, mainly because you’ve just recovered from a previous mission.

“why me?” you groan.

gone are the days where you used to be a goody two shoes for satoru. you’re old enough to talk back now, not like when you had been a shy fifteen-year-old girl. besides, you’ve been around the silver-haired sorcerer long enough to know that he doesn’t mind the bite.

“sorry, kid,” satoru says with a shrug. at least he sounds genuine about it. “the higher ups requested for you specifically. they say you’ll get the job done in the cleanest way. we can’t have things getting messy before the holidays, right?”

“and you wouldn’t be the best choice?” you quip.

satoru only laughs. he ruffles your hair. even with your growth spurt and merciless training, he still towers over you. in a way, he’ll always be your mentor. “hey, i’m going out of town that weekend. give me a break.”

you huff petulantly. something about this mission seems fishy to you. you’re not nearly the strongest sorcerer out of the bunch of kids under satoru’s wings (not that you guys are kids anymore, but sometimes it’s hard to feel otherwise). hell, there’s the kyoto students. it feels like they never have to do anything. you wish that you were rebellious enough to chew utahime out for it.

“why couldn’t they just make yuta or megumi go?” you mutter under your breath. you stammer out megumi’s name and hope satoru doesn’t catch on to the way you can barely say it.

satoru knows about the breakup. why wouldn’t he? he’s basically megumi’s dad, even if the raven haired boy refuses to admit it. satoru’s six eyes mean you can’t hide anything from him (he’d been the first to know that megumi was head over heels for you).

satoru raises a brow. “oh, right. megumi’s coming along too.”

your face twists and you immediately whip around to glare at him. “you’re lying.”

“i wish,” he jokes. “i was really hoping i’d get a wedding invitation one day, you little rascal. i can’t believe you two broke up. maybe this’ll be a good thing!”

“i appreciate your honesty, but—”

“but megumi’s an emotionally constipated kid, yeah, that i know,” satoru laughs. he makes his way to the exit of his office which has you furrowing your brows. is your former teacher actually gonna just leave after making you come all the way here? how rude and so very in character of him.

“please, gojo,” you call out after him, “i don’t wanna go with him.”

“sucks for you,” satoru responds halfheartedly. “merry christmas. try not to take more than a week on this. you’ll have to pay the rest of the fee for accommodations if you do.”

“gojo!” you whine.

“it’s not a hard mission!” satoru insists like it’ll make your life any easier. “y’know, this time of year is when things get ugly. think of it as saving as many people as you can while putting in the least amount of effort!”

and then he teleports. your former teacher teleports away rather than being normal and walking out of the door. you roll your eyes and hope that he can sense it (you know he can’t).

so that’s why you’re here now. with your ex. on the elevator to your assigned room on the tenth floor. you’re so glad that it’s a normal hotel and not a love hotel. lord knows what you’d do if you had checked into a love hotel.

megumi hasn’t spoken a word to you since he broke up with you two weeks ago. it had been in the doorway to your apartment a few days after a particularly rough mission assigned to the both of you—the one you’re still recovering from. he’d pulled you in for a hug, whispering sweet words into your ear. he gave you a look, one of those looks that made him soften his usually sharp eyes.

“i think we should break up.”

and then came the pathetic whimper of yours. he had wiped your tears, even kissed them tenderly, before telling you that it wasn’t your fault—it was his. how cliche.

now as you stand next to him, you want to beat yourself up for not asking for closure. neither of you had explicitly stated that you two were going to be no-contact, but it hurts a lot less to push the idea of forever with megumi away to the back of your mind. besides, you two aren’t confrontational like that. not with each other, anyway.

“need help?” his tone is soft, tender—the tone he reserves specifically for you, the one that tells you he still cares.

you stare down at the luggage at your feet. you’ve always been a chronic overpacker, a habit that megumi knows of by now. he watches you curiously, hands itching at his sides. you can tell that he wants to reach out and grab your suitcase like he always does. he thinks he isn’t obvious, but you can always read through the lines, especially when it’s megumi.

“i’m okay,” you croak out, clearing your throat awkwardly.

the elevator dings and you make your way to your room. as much as you hate to admit it, you’re sort of glad that you and your ex boyfriend are sharing a room. perhaps his’ll be a good way to get closure, though you’re not really sure what closure entails.

what you don’t expect is to unlock the door and be met with a singular bed.

if satoru gojo didn’t have a layer of infinity coating his body (and if he wasn’t the strongest sorcerer alive), you would’ve wrung out his neck.

megumi simply walks into the room, setting his duffel bag down on one of the dressers opposite from the foot of the bed. he doesn’t comment on the lack of double beds, seemingly already aware of the set up.all he does is puff out a weary sigh. you suck in a breath and follow him inside, slipping your shoes off at the entrance.

you lug your suitcase in after you along with your duffel bag and backpack. you stumble forward and megumi’s arm snakes around your waist, steadying you.

“careful,” he mutters, nonchalantly taking your bag off our your shoulders.

it’s a quick series of movements; he swings your bag over his shoulders and places it on the dresser next to the one he’s claimed while guiding you softly to the side of the bed so that you’re not standing in the middle of the doorway.

you scrunch your face, feeling your heart thump against your ribcage. it’s stupid how he still has such a hold on you, even after two weeks of not seeing or talking to him. he’s just so caring, so gentle. it stings, like little the little cuts you get when fighting curses, when you realize that this is something you’ll have to learn how to lose.

“thanks,” you manage to mutter. you don’t trust yourself to say anything else. you know from the way your throat tightens that you’ll be crying soon if you force yourself to talk any more.

“i can take the couch,” megumi says.

it’s that easy with him; he’s a gentleman, so of course he’d take the couch. that’s the way megumi fushiguro is—he offers a solution before you even have the chance to complain. in your year and a half long relationship, that skill of his had been a saving grace.

“no, don’t bother,” you croak. “i’ll book another room.”

“really?” he asks. he stands up a little straighter, awkwardly reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. “i mean, i don’t mind sharing a room with you… we’ve..”

we’ve shared a room countless of times before.

megumi doesn’t have to continue his sentence for you to understand what he’s implying. you part your lips to speak, but nothing comes out except for a long, heavy sigh. your shoulders drop as you let the exhaustion seep into your bones. there’s no use arguing about it, not when you don't’ mind sharing a room with megumi, either.

“we’ve broken up,” you remind him in a quiet voice, like you’re afraid saying it out loud will make it truer than it already is.

megumi pauses. you see his adam’s apple bob as he swallows thickly. “i know that, but … it’ll be fine. we’ve shared a room as friends before.”

he’s right, like he usually is. you two have shared a room before as just friends, but that had been as teenagers—back when you both harbored such hardcore crushes on each other that you two somehow didn’t notice.

“right,” you find yourself agreeing with a small nod.

“you should go get ready for bed.” megumi begins grabbing a few or the decorative pillow off of the bed. he places them gingerly on the brown couch tucked in the corner of the hotel room. “we’ll be getting up pretty early to deal with the brunt of the mission.”

to finish this mission as quickly as possible, you think.

and so you oblige and head to the bathroom. it’s december 19th, just a few days shy of christmas day, and you’re in bed with your ex boyfriend on the couch just a few feet away.

december 20th greets you with megumi hovering over you. he peers down at you with his messy bangs covering his eyes. they’re piercingly blue as he blinks. his lashes flutter perfectly, even in the early morning. your eyes meet his and you jolt awake.

“good morning,” he says. “your alarm has been ringing for a bit now, so i turned it off.”

you blink rapidly, getting the tiredness out of your eyes. “oh.”

he chuckles softly, just enough for you to catch it with your ears. he rises from his crouched position and heads to the front door. he spares you a glance over his shoulder before he heads out, presumably giving you the privacy you need. you let out a strangled breath before you swing your legs over the bed and head to the bathroom.

by the time you’re finished putting on your uniform, you swing the door to your hotel room open and see megumi leaned up against the wall, tapping away on his phone. his dark blue eyes flicker up to you and he turns away to head down the hall.

you furrow your brows. you can’t help but think that he’s being a little cold to you. it isn’t like you initiated the breakup. despite your frustration with his behavior, you can sort of understand why he wouldn’t want to be sweet around you; you two aren’t dating anymore and so it makes sense that he’d go back to being aloof in your presence, the usual way he acts around everyone else. losing that position in his life makes your stomach churn for reasons you’re less than willing to uncover.

your mission is a vague one; all you know is that it’s a clean-up mission. rather than a level 1 curse (or even a special grade), the mission consists of an acclimation of weak curses surrounding shinjuku. these missions are normally given to younger, more inexperienced sorcerers with the help of a senior sorcerer, but for an odd reason, it’s been given to you and megumi this year. megumi could’ve probably handled it himself. actually, you could’ve handled it yourself.

you bite your tongue to hold back on your complaints as you walk just a step behind megumi. he pauses regularly, waiting for you to catch up to his side. you roll your eyes in secret. does he not realize that you don’t want to walk next to him?

“it’s all just bars,” you mutter.

with that, you earn a tiny laugh from megumi. “well, yeah. this is the red-light district of shinjuku.”

you pale. “this sucks.”

“why do you think i wanted to come out here in the morning rather than at night?” he says, his tone strangely light.

“to deal with the brunt of the mission,” you repeat his words from last night sarcastically. you’re unsure as to what he’s talking about, so you think that it’s okay to give him a little bit of attitude.

he raises his brow but doesn’t comment on your sarcasm. instead, he says softly, “no, stupid. it’s because this is the red-light district. it’s unsafe for anyone, especially a pretty, young girl alone at night.”

your first thought is to coo and tease him. you think i’m pretty? it takes you half a second to remember that you two are broken up. you scoff, “i’m perfectly capable of handling myself.”

“i never said you weren’t,” megumi shoots back. “it would just be annoying explaining to the higher ups why you were fighting people and not curses.”

“i’m sure they’d understand,” you retort, frowning. you cross your arms.

“don’t be so pouty,” he says in that stupid, gentle tone he uses with you when you’re acting bratty.

you both decide to split up. well, it’s more like you demand the two of you to split up. you say it under the pretense that it’ll get the job done faster. besides, you both want to be home before christmas day, right?

there’s about two curses you cross paths with every hour. you’re starting to lose your mind. shouldn’t the streets be infested with them? you don’t even need a veil! all you have to do is give the weak curses just one punch and they vaporize on the spot. your head is running with hundreds of thoughts.

that’s when it hits you: the first years at the tokyo jujutsu school did come out here a week prior! maybe they did a bad job? but you remember nobara had been the one to lead the group. she may half-ass almost everything in her life, but she wouldn’t jeopardize her underclassmen for the sake of her freetime.

so why on earth are you here? it’s not like there are enough harmful curses for a mission to be assigned to you right before christmas, and to you and megumi of all sorcerers. you’re both strong enough to the point of having some kind of importance in the jujutsu world. the higher ups wouldn’t send the two of you on some stupid mission for the sake of it unless they’re planning some sort of secret execution. but even then, satoru gojo should’ve known through their lies to not send you or megumi. unless…he wants you two dead…?

you shake your head and bite your nails. the sun begins to set and you realize that you’ve been out here for longer than you expected. you’re starting to feel a chill in your bones—you had argued petulantly with megumi earlier about not wanting to wear your jacket despite it being the dead of winter; “it’s gonna get in the way!”

you always seem to forget the the sun sets earlier in the winter. it’s stupid how bright all the lights are in shinjuku. there isn’t a square foot of anything that isn’t lit up with neon signs reading out the names of clubs and bars. you see couples and large groups of people walking along the streets.

it’s lonely, you realize. it would’ve been less lonely with megumi.

you make your way to the meeting spot with megumi. you both share a few small words before retiring for the night. megumi says he wants to go sightseeing, even though there’s really nothing much to see. he doesn’t return to the hotel room until late at night.

when he slips into the only bed that the room offers, you chalk it up to the slight alcohol you smell on his lips. it feels so natural that you don’t push him away even though you should. his body is warm and you fit so perfectly against his broad chest that you think it’ll be okay for you to be a little selfish tonight.

“g’night,” megumi mumbles in his sleep.

you smile and nuzzle closer.

it’s december 21st as you realize how late it is in the day. megumi is back on the couch. you feel a tinge of disappointment in the bottom of your stomach.

to no one’s surprise, the sun is barely peeking over the buildings when you’re finally back in the red-light district. you’re doing the last bit of cleanup, but there’s really nothing much for you to clean.

tomorrow, you’ll be heading to a shopping mall, so you suppose you should do your best to sniff out the rest of the curses littering the place unless you want to stay here an extra day. the day is, yet again, slow.

it’s nearing 8 PM and you're finally sure that you’ve gotten rid of all the curses in the general area. you’ve been done for quite a while now, but you just haven’t found the courage to let megumi know that you’re ready to go back to the hotel room. a little sightseeing on your end wouldn’t hurt, right?

“hi, pretty.” a gravelly voice, battered by cigarettes, whispers in your ear.

you jump in surprise. you need to remember not to get too far into your head. you should’ve felt his presence coming from a mile away. it’s a terrible habit and satoru has scolded you for years about it.

“hi,” you mutter, pushing past his larger frame.

the man isn’t as nicely built as the men you know (but then again, your friends are jujutsu sorcerers, so it’s kind of hard to beat that), but he still towers over you. he’s got a squad of rough-looking guys behind him, smirking down at you.

“why’s someone like you alone?” he says, shoving his arm to loop around your waist.

you roll your eyes, getting ready to punch the man square in the nose. will you get in trouble? probably yes. will it be a funny story to tell? also probably yes.

“don’t touch my wife.”

the group of men turn their heads along with you to see megumi. his expression is shrouded with a mixture of anger and frustration. you blink in confusion—megumi usually looks pretty pissed off, but this is the most angry you’ve seen him in a while. and ‘wife’? what’s up with that?

“oh, my bad,” the man chuckles. “didn’t know this pretty thing was married.”

“this ‘pretty thing’ wants you to let her go,” you say with an overly sweet smile. your teeth clench and you hiss, “right now.”

the guy scurries down the sidewalk with his buddies trailing along, making fun of him for hitting on a married woman. nobody mentions the lack of a ring on your finger. nobody mentions the lack of a relationship, either.

“wife?” you scowl. “we’re broken up.”

“guys tend to back up when they know a woman is married. it’s the only way you can really, uh, get them to go away around here.”

you glare at him. “and how would you know? you come here often with girls?”

“...no?” he blinks, unable to comprehend your sudden burst of jealousy. “i sometimes get missions around here, though. pretending to be married was the easiest way—”

“we aren’t, though. we’re not even in a relationship.” you seem to be throwing that into his face a lot more than you should. you can’t help it, though. you still feel a little bitter about not getting a real reason as to why megumi wanted to break up.

“i was trying to help you.” he’s calm and collected, as heard through his voice. he walks up to you and takes your freezing hand into his much warmer ones. “let’s go home.”

“i don’t want to,” you argue.

“stop being a brat,” he says, but there’s no bite to his words. “you’re cold and you’ve been out here all day. if i hadn’t stopped those guys, you probably would’ve beat them up pretty badly.”

“i’m not a fucking brat!” you try to retract your hand, but megumi’s grip only tightens.

“baby, stop,” the pet name rolls off his tongue with ease. megumi sighs softly and pulls you to his chest. “why are you so worked up, hm?”

from the way he speaks, you can tell that he already has an inkling. the breakup. cuddling last night. hugging you now. everything.

you don’t realize you’re crying until he gently wipes his thumb under your eye. he has the audacity to have an amused grin plastered on his stupidly pretty lips. your vision is blurry but if it hadn’t been, you would’ve thrown a punch.

“i’m sorry,” he whispers into your hair. “it’s all my fault.”

“it is,” you whimper pathetically. all the tears and the emotions you’ve been holding back bubble up to the surface.

“don’t be upset,” he almost pleads. “let’s go back, okay?”

the night ends with megumi on the couch. neither of you bring up the argument or the fact that he had slept in your bed with you last night. you two don’t talk about the usage of pet names, either.

when you open your eyes on december 22nd, you’re surprised to see that megumi has already headed out for the day. you click your tongue in annoyance—he’s always been good at avoiding his problems when it comes to dealing with them, especially problems involving his emotions. you already know where you’re supposed to be headed, so you suppose that it’s for the best that he’d left before you.

the shopping mall is a long line of vendors and stores among other things. the snow on the ground is fresh—it must’ve snowed late last night after you’d fallen asleep. it crunches underneath your beat-up sneakers with each step you take. you’re not shocked when you end up wandering aimlessly, dipping in and out of stores with no real urgency to finish your mission.

there’s nothing to do anyway.

you’ve killed about 3 curses total and it’s really starting to look like you’ve been sent out here for busy work. you really should’ve figured that out the first day of the mission when you had to practically beg the curses to come out and fight you.

you find yourself in the front of a jewelry store, eyeing a pretty bracelet that you know would look stunning around megumi’s wrist. it’s one of those bracelets that clasp tightly. there’s a thicker band in the center with pretty carvings that seem to resemble some sort of swirly heart. it’s pretty, you have to admit.

without much thought, you buy the gift.

the seller has to clear her throat to get your attention when you don’t answer her question. “um, would you like this to be wrapped?”

you nod absentmindedly. “oh, yes. sorry. please wrap it.”

she nods in return and proceeds to wrap the bracelet in a tiny box, adorning it with a festive bow. you ask her to change it out for a different color, explaining that it isn’t a christmas gift and instead, it’s for someone’s birthday. she offers you a warm smile before switching it with a muted blue ribbon.

you return to the hotel, having to take an expensive taxi. you don’t mind—the bracelet has already made a decent-sized dent in your wallet. why not spend an extra amount on getting home? it’s not like jujutsu sorcerers are paid poorly.

reality hits you when you finally get back to the hotel room. you want to punch yourself for being so stupid. did you really just buy a birthday present for your ex-boyfriend?

you’re thankful that megumi hasn’t arrived yet. he seems to be determined to avoid you for as long as he can. you can’t blame him, either. you did give him quite a hard time yesterday.

you toss the box on to the dresser and head to the bathroom to splash some much needed cold water on to your face. maybe that’ll wake you up enough to clear your mind. you’ve acted out once during this trip already and you’re not really looking forward to any other possible outbursts.

you rinse your face and pat yourself dry with one of the face towels provided to you by the hotel staff. you hang it over the rack again and tiredly make your way to your bed. you halt your movements when you see megumi standing by the dresser, admiring your gift.

he looks up at you in surprise with the smallest grin on his face. it’s so subtle that you would’ve missed it had you not been dating him for nearly two years.

“is this for me?”

“no,” you quickly deny. his face falls and you cough out, “um, i mean.. yeah. i-i didn’t… i… happy birthday.”

he brightens, lips pulling up into a real, genuine smile. “you remembered?”

“why wouldn’t i?” you blurt gently. you bite your inner cheek to stop yourself from saying anything more.

“i dunno.” his voice is distant and low, like he’s trying to hold back his tears. “i just…i didn’t think i was deserving of a gift from you. thank you. i like it.”

you stand awkwardly, shifting your weight onto your other foot. “yeah, well…”

“can you help me put it on?” he asks, sitting at the edge of your unmade bed.

you feel your body heat up. part of you screams for you to stop. you shouldn’t do that. it’s far too intimate and you two are broken up. you’ve never been good at making decisions, though, so you sit next to him and feel the mattress dip.

he gives you a grateful look, one that you willfully ignore, and gives you his wrist. you clasp the bracelet on, fingertips just barely grazing his skin. your heart skips a beat and you have to inhale sharply before pulling away.

“thank you,” he whispers.

december 23rd is a sore reminder that life goes on. you had half-expected something to spark between you and megumi. perhaps he’d beg for you back, or maybe with less wishful thinking, he’d give you his real reason as to why he doesn’t want you anymore.

“i don’t think we need to go anymore,” megumi says when you come out of the bathroom after freshening up.

“huh? why not?”

“there’s nothing out there.” megumi’s voice is flat.

“i know, but we’ll get in trouble if we…”

“gojo probably sent us out here for fun.”

your lips part. megumi turns to you with a slight frown.

“don’t you think so too?” he asks, but you know it isn’t a question he’s looking to find an answer to. “why would the higher-ups assign a mission like this to a special grade sorcerer and a grade 1 sorcerer? if they needed that much manpower, this mission would’ve been deadlier. instead, we’re playing cleanup crew.”

“yeah, but..” you trail off, unable to think of a statement to refute his words. “if we go back now, we’ll get chewed out.”

“it’s just a scolding. you’ll be fine.” megumi stands up and stretches his arms.

you watch him cautiously as he begins to fold his clothes and throw them into his duffel bag. he doesn’t say anything else, letting the silence overtake the room.

“...are we leaving, then?” you ask meekly, not bothering to hide the slight quiver in your voice.

he pauses slightly. “do you want to stay here until christmas? this mission is stupid and you know it. there’s no point.”

why is his tone so cold all of the sudden? it’s as if you two hadn’t shared a moment last night before bed. does your gift not mean anything to him now that he’s cleared his mind with a good rest?

your eyes flicker to his wrist. the gold glimmers underneath the light and you realize that megumi doesn’t seem to hate wearing it. so why is he acting so … unpleasant?

you feel a lump in your throat. it’s embarrassing how quickly he’s able to upset you from just the tone of his voice. even his body language, usually fluid and smooth, is rigid with your presence. you want to tell him that you’ve enjoyed your time with him. you want to shake his shoulders and tell him that if you two cut your mission short, you might not get another chance to be near him again.

“do you still care about me?” you whisper instead.

he stills completely. “what?”

“this entire time,” you begin shakily, “you’ve been nice to me. you treat me like you always do. you’re always hovering over me even though you pretend you aren’t! you obviously still care, megumi.”

his adam's apple bobs as swallows. a beat of silence. then two. then three.

“i do care,” he admits sorely.

“then why did you break up with me?” you blurt. there it is, the question you’ve been meaning to ask. you both had seen it coming.

“because…” megumi winces as if he’s the one getting hurt from the ordeal. “because you deserve someone that’s normal. someone that isn’t a sorcerer. i can’t give you that life.”

you feel your chest swarm with anger. why does he always think he needs to sabotage himself to make others happy? this is something you’ve tried working with him on, but it seems like old habits are hard to kill off, just like your habit of loving him.

“why the hell would you decide that for me? when did i ever say i wanted a normal life?” you snap. your hands clench at your sides.

“it’s too early for this,” he says, his voice straining as he finally musters up the strength to look at you in your eyes.

“tell me, megumi. if that’s the real reason, then that is the most pathetic excuse for a breakup i've ever heard.” your voice cracks and you gulp down the oncoming sob that’s threatening to explode from your throat.

he inhales slowly and makes his way to you, holding you close against his chest. you should push him away, but you would rather let him hug you. you know that you can’t fight him, anyway.

“you…once said you wanted a regular relationship. when you got hurt a few weeks ago, i realized i couldn’t be that for you,” he confesses lowly. “i knew that you’d never find it in yourself to leave, so i figured i should just let you go for your sa–”

“are you kidding me?” you shout incredulously. “i said that when i was fifteen, megumi! before i even knew what being in love was like!”

he flinches against you. “but i…”

“you and your damn savior complex! i don’t need to be in a regular, normal relationship! i don’t need any of that, megumi! i’m a sorcerer, I won't ever get to be normal! in fact, it’s even better that i’m with you because you at least know what this life is like, you idiot! you’re always ruining the good things in your life because you—”

he takes his fingers to grab your chin and he pulls you in for a kiss. if the kiss is a ploy to shut you up, you hate to admit that it’s working. his tongue slips into your mouth and you melt against him. your arms loop around his neck as you desperately drag him down closer to your body. his hand grip your waist while the other clings to the small of your back.

you whimper out of instinct and he pulls away, lips bruised and breathless. it’s been so long since you’ve tasted him and you frown, tiptoeing to capture his lips again. you need to savor him, to feel him lips against yours again.

“baby, wait.” his chest heaves as he looks down at you. “don’t…don’t do this to me.”

“do what?” you ask, an edge to your voice. did he just reject you? even after all that?

“w-we gotta report back to—”

“we’re supposed to leave tomorrow,” you interrupt.

the gears shift in his head. “fine, but—”

“i’m still really fucking mad, but i just need you to kiss me right now,” you whine impatiently.

all megumi does is laugh when he swoops down to press his lips against yours.

it’s december 24th when you two find yourselves in satoru’s office. steam is practically rising from your ears as you try to compose yourself in front of your former teacher.

“... i wanted a wedding invitation.” satoru shrugs.

“you set us up!” you whine angrily. “gojo, are you serious?! isn’t this a little immature?”

megumi stays silent, averting his gaze. he suddenly finds the succulents on satoru’s desk very interesting. he’s never noticed that they’re all nearly dead! how cool.

your eyes shoot daggers at megumi's silence.

"we aren't gonna get married any time soon..." megumi mutters when he feels your pointy glare on him.

satoru raises his hands in mock surrender. “you two can’t blame me! it worked out! you two are back together now, right?”

“but did you have to make us look like fools out there?” you groan.

“you should’ve figured it out on the first day that the mission was a sham!” satoru exclaims, offense taking over his features.

“but still!” you’re borderline hysterical at this point, unable to believe that your former teacher of all people had to set up an entire fake mission so that you and your ex could talk your feelings out. “we would’ve figured ourselves out sooner or later!”

megumi nods. he feels like he should at least give you a little support even if he’s embarrassed out of his mind.

“oh really?” satoru’s voice drips with sarcasm. “you guys should be thanking me—”

“you’re so not getting an invitation to our wedding!” you grumble.

“wha—hey! i’m the one that got you two back together! besides, i’m megumi’s guardian! you can’t just not invite me.”

“watch me!”

“megumi, tell her that she can’t do that—hey! where are you guys going? invite me, you rascals—why are you guys leaving? we aren’t done discussing this! megumi, don’t you dare take her side! she isn’t even your wife yet—don’t slam my door!”

#jjk x reader #jjk x you #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #megumi x you #fushiguro megumi x reader #jjk megumi #megumi fluff #not my best work tbh

801 notes · View notes

endless-ineffabilities · 1 month

Text

The Bolter (part one)

Steve Rogers x f!Reader

synopsis : Steve carries out his decision to return to Peggy, aiming to live out the rest of his days with her. But this means he's leaving everything behind - he's leaving you. Did he make the right choice? Will there be anything left with you to come back to?

in this chapter : Steve is about to walk out of your life, causing you to let go of everything you two have, and everything that could be.

📝 yes, the title is inspired by Taylor Swift's upcoming song The Bolter. In my interpretation and in this story, it is meant to symbolize someone who runs from someone or something. A potential relationship. A loved one. And the choice is not easy, one that may bring a lot of remorse or catharsis? Anyhow - Steve IS a bolter. In the beginning, at least.

themes/warnings : language, angst!!!, pining, unrequited love, Steve is kind of an asshole for leaving (but we love him anyway)

word count : < 1k

masterlist ▪︎ next chapter

This is it.

This must be what true heartbreak feels like.

Steve, your best friend and the unrequited love of your life, has decided to volunteer to return the Infinity Stones to their respective timelines. Very noble of him.

But he also confessed that he plans to stay with Peggy, now that he finally has the chance.

They can have the dance that was stolen from them, decades ago.

Steve can be with his true love it seems. And that person is just not you.

Well, fuck my life.

"Doll," he smiles ruefully, both of your hands encased in his, "say something."

Say something, he says. What is there to say - I'm in love with you, I want you to stay with me? Don't leave me? I want you stay - for Bucky, for Sam, for Nat. For everyone. For me?

What can you fucking say that will ever be enough? In the 7 years that you've known Steve, you've grown to love him. As a friend, as family. Then, almost inevitably, as the only keeper of your heart. And he knows this.

But he's still leaving. Because, at the end of the day, Peggy is the keeper of his heart.

To you, Steve has always been everything good. Golden boy perfection, with a heart that would put a saint's to shame. Sunshine, laughter, companionship, standing tall and unwavering in his ideals. His gleaming red, white, and blue tendrils snaking their way into the very fibres of your being and taking root.

But now, all you feel is empty. You were angry, when he first told you, days ago. You had almost screamed at him, told him how unfair he was being. You made a long, drawn-out case for Bucky. How he doesn't deserve this. But really, you were making a case for yourself.

Stay, you had said.

He simply smiled, without any mirth. Not like his usual on-brand Steve Rogers gesture of sincerity. He smiled and it did not reach his eyes. He was sad, or maybe he pitied you. And that made you even angrier.

Until minutes later, when you finally broke down, and sobbed quietly in his arms.

"I hate you," you muttered against the creases of his shirt.

"I love you," he said back, and you hated him even more for it. He doesn't get to say that to you, in that way. Not in the same way he would say to Peggy.

Now, right before stepping onto the platform that will cause him to vanish from your life, he says it again.

"You do know that I love you, right?" His smile is genuine, if not a little nervous. He hoped you would be as accepting as Bucky, and send him off with just a rueful look. A gentle, final word. A sweet farewell that he can take with him as a reminder of all the times you spent together.

"I know," you breathe, relenting. Steve does not like that your eyes are glazed over, empty. Like you're not taking him in at all. You take notice of the resulting sag in his shoulders, out of character from the dignified stride he sported as he was saying goodbye to the others.

A big part of you wants to remain indignant. So what if he's hurt or uncomfortable due to your coldness? It serves him right.

"Come here," he whispers, and it comes across a silent plea. Come here? Will you, please?

You take just one small step closer, but he is already ahead, wrapping his arms around your frame. Your stony mask breaks as your cheek presses against his chest, away from his view. His chest plate glistens from your tears, but you don't have it in you to wipe them away.

When he pulls away to look down at you, his heart breaks. He cradles your face in his hands as you look up at him through wet eyelashes, and it's almost enough to make him consider staying.

But then you say, "It will all be okay, Steve." You gingerly pry his hands from your cheeks, giving them a comforting squeeze. "We will be okay."

You look behind you, where Bucky stands watching the exchange, and he offers an encouraging nod.

You take a step back, mustering everything that you possibly can, all the love you have for Steve, to give him one last genuine smile.

"Go get your girl."

Read part two here.

The way I was making myself upset while writing this - god I love angst!!! ~~~

I was gonna keep going, make it even more brutal, but I'll save that for the upcoming parts. It will have some Bucky x reader as well 🖤

God Bless America('s ass).

oh, and let me know if you wish to be tagged!

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fanfiction #chris evans #the avengers #mcu #bucky barnes #the bolter

421 notes · View notes

beescake · 2 months

Note

PLEASE PLEASE MEGADUMP THE ARASOL!!! PLEAAASEE MR BEESCAKE I AM ON MY KNEES BEGGING YOU

HFHGHD GLADLY aaa i’ve been adding notes to it here and there for months but just hesitant to post it bcs im 🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂

also this is just my own takeaway of the events, it doesn’t necessarily comply to the Ultimate Truth of Canon-Alignment or represent the actual facts of what hussie intended! v sentimental smh but hopefully its still interesting to read

i love when characters inform each other by proximity, it's one of my fave things to see in media :') it feels even more significant when two characters deliberately choose to stick together, so that when one operates, you can tell the other is similarly aligned in associative solidarity.

sollux is a keystone of this trope — whoever he aligns with is a wordless statement, a nod of approval. this stood out to me bcs the main four humans were alr friends by default, but once you reach hivebent you realize the trolls can actively choose who they want to hang out with.

and as we all know, after assessing every troll's biases/loyalties, sollux is the only one who maintains his selective preference for innately Good 👍 people.

aradia is such a beautiful character honestly, she evokes such incredible feelings in me. she might not have been consistently written with care but the best parts of her character are truly stunning. i think it's easy to remember sollux as the self-sacrificing one bc he's so open about it (and his friends frequently react to his Moments) but when you compare him to aradia, it's always struck me

how much more. raw it is

to be so alone as an agent of time, having to orchestrate immeasurably harrowing events nobody understands or gives a fuck about

with your role painted in the story as one who must tend to the needs of the narrative, responsible to match every next note

because when you're given the capabilities, it becomes your duty to carry it out.

it becomes expected of you to keep experimenting and arranging the machinations to work for everyone, dusting off hundreds of necessary failures to keep going

and having to be so unwavering in your drive knowing miserably that there's no one who can help you but yourself.

or alternatively: to make things fun! so other people won't think twice about letting you go off on your own.

sure she's had some very good buds, notably thanks to Team Charge v Team Scourge antics.

and yet, at the end of the day, the one friend that kept choosing her time and time again was the friend with the highest standards.

i can see why people like to define arasol as moirails/matesprits but surprisingly i find the nondescript, unlabeled aspect of their relationship more straightforward to understand.

there's no shortage of people who would accommodate sollux. most of the surviving trolls are his oldest friends bcs he’d chosen them well. his transparency with his feelings had built him strong friendships that won’t falter or break, regardless of how much of a dick he can be. they’ve already seen and accepted him at his worst, and they still like him for who he is.

contrast that with aradia, who'd been so approachable, friendly and reliable in her exchanges it was super fun to talk to her. but the moment she became depressed, all her connections broke down.

her friends became hesitant to interact with her (until she became god tier, “happy” and amicable again) because her gloom and resignation didn’t serve them. she dealt with it alone.

there’s def something of note here abt the disparity between the way male & female characters are written+perceived in homestuck (esp parallel arasol with davejade) but i won’t go into that lmaoo

with this in mind i like to think of sollux as a gift to her, a loyal companion given to complement and commend her resolve. she's capable of doing so much alone but hussie took the time to build her and sollux's relationship as one of a unit; a set.

the ambiguity of their status does complicate things, but i do believe it makes sense with their characters. aradia's relationship with romance is a rocky one, the dubious stringalong equius had with her is a pointed reminder that her feelings of attraction are ultimately controlled by the author writing her.

unlike the other trolls who can openly address and own up to their crushes, aradia had romantic emotions forced upon her (especially when hussie implies 'she kissed equius back on her own volition'). and it seems like her character is so intrinsically neutral abt attraction that even when forced by the almighty powers above, she's unable to retain it wholly.

however, looking back to pre-game when she could actually "choose" her own feelings, she did have a crush on sollux.

their soft spots for each other were so obvious to the point where other people could see it.

taunting aside, when vriska comments on their unit as bf/gf it actually informs the audience that arasol's relationship is romantic in nature despite not aligning with the quadrant system.

even while dead, aradia could still describe her care for sollux, expressing that she would like to see him happy. if they had more time to explore their relationship on alternia, it's possible they could've settled in a quadrant once they grew older.

but going back to the lack of labels, their dynamic was affected once more when aradia became god tier.

to me, her ascension was both the perfect culmination and possible closure of her character. it's the light at the end of her journey toiling through countless of timelines where she had to actively assess and participate. that's why it's cool to see her being silly and having fun giving guidance, passively exploring and watching other people do their parts.

and yet the joy of her freedom makes it hard to explore further introspection. if we take her by her word, she'd already come to terms with the hurt she's been through and forgiven those involved.

i can't help feeling attuned to how impersonal and detached it can be, to devote and meld your identity so completely with your designated position as Maid of Time until you've become hard for your old friends (and even some readers!) to personally connect to.

idk post-canon but i assume there’s some degree of similarity to be bridged here with aradia's god tier and how the hs2 humans' Ultimate forms was described as a consolidation of all their possibilities. since aradia's classpect is inherently of service to Time, going god-tier may have elevated her beyond personhood with the "game construct" possessing her entirely. sollux doesn't realize the extent of it bcs he's still mortal, but a part of him may have subconsciously understood this.

i think there is a core aspect to aradia that was lost to the dehumanizing glory of god tier — a core aspect that may have contained an element of why sollux enjoyed talking to her in the first place.

to him, aradia hadn't just been a nice girl, she was a cool girl. despite not having much in common, he's still willing to chill next to her so she's not alone while she does what needs to get done.

back on alternia, they held a mutual and equal-level regard for each other that could've definitely settled into something permanent. but now, he's placed himself in a position where he can be kept around or left behind at will. the parameters of the relationship are largely in aradia's court, so any label she suggests to identify their relationship with he's likely to accept.

but that's why it's so difficult to label it. because god tier aradia may not necessarily Want quadrants or relationship labels. rather than the initial romantic attachment, their commitment to each other had evolved into one fundamentally of companionship.

no label? ok fine. no matter what, he still thinks she's a good soul worth latching on to. the best, actually. aradia > everyone else.

even if it gets stilted at times. there's an unexpected struggle to connect when sollux's go-to default for talking points is his feelings about things, and aradia may not want to talk about emotions all the time.

not to mention god tier aradia became an observer, especially of chaos. but sollux's avoidance of involvement comes partially from his innate pressure to get involved if something goes wrong. and he can't always tell when something goes wrong, because aradia doesn't mind if things go wrong anymore.

it's a non-negotiable preference that causes them to take the occasional time apart, a new boundary that wouldn't have existed before the game and aradia's god tier.

but just like how his friends tolerated his moods, sollux accepts aradia as she is. with no quadrants, their connection doesn't break down because there's no implicit romantic expectations to be disappointed by or resentful over.

sometimes when i see hs content that deliberately distances sollux from aradia, i assume this is the dissonance people might have felt. people might find it "easier" to be cynical about them bcs of this strange tension.

but idc lmao. grab that shit by the neck

lack of easy resolutions and cleanly tied ribbons is pretty standard of homestuck and imo it doesn't make arasol's dynamic any less incredible. with the right affection and consideration, there's still so much potential to develop the nuance of their relationship outside of the popular quadrant-based depictions.

hs has a lot of really great character compatibilities but the way aradia and sollux are in their own special orbit is why i can write this much about them in the first place. it's that frail innocence between first loves that makes it so sweet to me, two kids who grew up too fast playing guesswork without being clear where they're going.

ultimately i do think you're meant to feel a little tragedy for just how much they care for each other, even if they can't quite establish it in simple terms.

maybe they keep taking breaks to progress their own paths. maybe they remain as anchor partners while seeing other people. but even if you decide to separate them, they're still (awkwardly) texting each other updates all the while. and when they reunite it feels like coming home.

and well. more than anything, i like to believe that they do want to be exclusive.

they're just afraid. after all, they're still learning how to love, beyond the projections of the foursquare quadrant system they had inadvertently distanced themselves from since young.

they might not have everything figured out, but they'll get there eventually if you just hold them together and write them there.

optional post-canon segment:

one of the limitations of main hs is that (monogamous) relationships are often written as the go-to solution to wrap up character growth; it's an easy "patch" to imagine characters getting their happy ending because they have a partner, and those who don't end up with someone don't get that closure (most notably jade).

hs2 reaffirms this by suggesting that aradia's character cannot progress without letting sollux go, because happily settling in a relationship automatically locks your potential.

that pathetic panel of sollux staring emptily into the sky is still my fave hs2 spoiler ngl i find the impact of their parting so emotionally provoking precisely bcs they were written in original hs to be each other's forever, coming back together again and again

but now, they're subject to the decisions of the post-canon authors who might choose to deviate from that.

it's not new for them to part, but now there's an underlying worry that her dropping him off this time might be the last time. while i think the prospect of shattering their stability to make them grow separately sounds fun on paper, no amount of me desperately hoping for a good execution is gonna guarantee it

idk. i guess prediction-wise im expecting sollux in classic dramatic-hs2 fashion to tell dave to back off aradia LMAO. otherwise it's just gon be sollux and karkat pathetically watching aradia and dave from a distance swimming in their unresolved feelings for narratively-powerful time players smh obvs it sounds corny as hell but who knows its still plausible

srsly tho i hope they take the opportunity to develop arasol's relationship in a fresh direction that doesn't hurt me too badly...... and i hope they force sollux out of his comfort zone. i like watching him struggle :-)

#sorry if this isnt fully accurate heh its just my personal impressions/feelings #despite best efforts to simplify my annotations the wall of text still ended up massive #there's also a comparison i wanted to make abt characters who “broke up” from romantic expectations losing a lot of what they had before #dave(sprite)/jade‚ karkat/terezi‚ dirk/jake etc = which is why i think arasol was rescued by hussie on purpose. arasol endgame truth #ngl there mightve been more moments that shouldve been mentioned but i have no memories of... limited cloud storage #long post #ask #anon #homestuck #arasol #aradia megido #sollux captor #arapostings #2024 #vioart #not disqualifying acespec/qpr reading i think its also possible :]#if anything i dont understand fanon killing off aradia for their sollux ships haiyaaa why is this trope so damn popular #every time i open a slkt fic and aradia is dead i go outside and burn a tree. global warming could not come sooner #slkts who treat aradia like dvkts treat jade…. i punt u football style

404 notes · View notes

sthavoc · 1 month

Note

Hi bestieeee, can I request something cute ? It could be short if you like.

You never call Enzo by his name he is used to hearing “mi amor” or whatever you like but when you say his name for something he’s like the confused pikachu meme like what did I do wrong? Who you talking to cuz that ain’t me I’m the love of your life future father of your children EXCUSE YOUUU TREAT ME WITH SOME RESPECT.

Thank you !! 💖

*๑՞ 🍏 𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐓 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐄 𝐁𝐘 𝐌𝐘 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄 | ENZO VOGRINCIC

·˚ ༘ pairing: enzo x fem!reader

·˚ ༘ summary: you decide to pull a little prank on your boyfriend, wanting to see his reaction to you calling him by his name.

·˚ ༘ warnings: I believe it’s only fluff (if not i’m sorry)

·˚ ༘ note: guys i’m finally on spring break!! I can write more fics now! this one is a small blurb <3 i’m sorry if there’s any grammar mistakes.

The times you’ve called Enzo by his name could be counted. Those few moments could be times when the two of you would either fight or be on serious topics. Apart from that, his name wouldn't be a part of your daily vocabulary around him, or on the list of names you were used on calling him.

But today, you decided to see and test the waters. What would his reaction be to you randomly calling him by his name? Right now both of you found yourselves in the kitchen after you guys had gotten back home from doing your grocery shopping.

You thought this was perfect timing for you to ask him for something.

“¿Enzo, me pasas las manzanas por favor?” And there was his reaction. You tried to ignore it, but the facial expressions he had were difficult to dismiss. Your lips quivered from trying your best not to break character, you even had to seal them completely.

“¿Cómo me llamaste?” He spoke with confusion and astonishment in his tone. You never looked up from what you were doing and continued to put the groceries away.

“¿De qué hablas?” You followed along. The smallest of smiles broke from your lips when your back faced him and he wasn’t able to see any sign of facial expressions on your face.

“Me llamaste Enzo.” He sets both palms on the cold stone of the kitchen counter, his knuckles bending with the action. By this moment you had turned towards him again but continued to move.

“Pero si así te llamas amor.” You played dumb.

“No, no—” He points with his index before making his lips damped with his tongue. “Para vos yo soy tu “mi amor”, futuro marido, el padre de tus futuros hijos, el amor de tu vida.” You were trying your very best not to laugh right now. He appeared offended from hearing his name coming out of your lips.

You couldn't hide the smile on your lips, and he realized it. The crease that formed between his brows hadn't missed the way your cheeks grew for the smile. Which was when he asked—

“¿Por que sonreís?” he continued to look annoyed as you continued to smile.

You shook your head trying to cover your smile, but you were failing to. “Era una bromita amor.”

A smirk appeared on his lips, where he stuck his tongue inside his lower lip with a small shake of the head. “Ah ¿una bromita eh?” He copies. He had walked closer to you, his hands had found its way to your waist. “Pues tus bromitas me van a dar algo chiquita. Pero todo lo que dije es verdad eh.” He points.

“Lo se, y lo siento.” you whisper genuinely. Your eyes looked up at him while you continued to share your smile.

His index finger and thumb rested on your chin while the lack of space stayed between the two before he leaned in to share a gentle kiss. A kiss from which you were able to hear the smooch after you both pulled away.

“respeto, nena.” He said.

And you knew that the man meant for you to have respect for him, on knowing how to call him. It was mostly banter, but he did prefer for you to call him any cute pet name than his name. A million times.

#enzo vogrincic #enzo vogrincic x reader #enzo vogrincic blurb #enzo vogrincic fic #enzo vogrincic imagine #enzo vogrincic one shot #enzo vogrincic x you

355 notes · View notes

nanaminsmoon · 10 months

Text

𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝.

a/n: i don't know how i feel about this yet but i hope it's okay lol. but i do know that i need this man real bad. and i picked this song bc it just kinda reminds me of this:)) also, i'm british but i always imagine the characters i write to have american accents so that's how i write them:))

cw: throat fucking, breeding, connie calls reader 'ma', 'hermosa', and 'baby', oral (f + m receiving), connie nuts on reader, n word usage, connie speaks spanish 2x; 'lo sé, hermosa, lo sé' (i know, beautiful, i know); 'quieres un hijo, ma?' (you want a kid, ma?)

wc: 2286

you always knew connie was a problem. from the day your ex introduced you to him, and his eyes’ journey across your body was one that should not be taken by a guy your man called his ‘best friend’. connie’s treatment towards you had never held any resemblance to that of a friend. it was almost as if he had no desire to hide his want for you. shown by the way he spent the rest of that evening, at eren’s house, eye-fucking you. his eyes probing you; brushing across your entire body, making the hairs on your skin rise at his command.

after that night, his eyes would return to you; attaching themselves to any moving flesh, as you shook ass when you guys all went out together. but, once again, you brushed him off. and you could've sworn you whined on him one time but the dim lighting in the club meant that you could never confirm. it was never to the extent where he made you particularly uncomfortable, you just needed to know what the nigga’s problem was. so you asked your, now ex, boyfriend ony about it. but he had accused you of blowing it all out of proportion.

“just because the nigga looked at you, you think he wants you?”, he had scoffed, shaking his head at you.

“it’s not about him looking, ony, it’s how he looked.”, you defended, and ony had rolled his eyes and carried on with whatever he was doing. that marked the first of many arguments you two had about connie.

the turning point came when you and ony broke up, and the first person to text you as soon as it happened was…connie. it was as if he had been waiting for this very moment since he met you. and he had. but, unlike his prolonged affections for you, the message he sent you was short.

”you good?”, you looked at your screen through teary eyes, and saw that he was facetiming you. so you, hesitantly, answered and you were met with a sentimental connie, throwing condolences your way. ensuring you that you would be fine, and telling you praises like; ‘you were too good for him anyways’ and ‘i would never treat a girl as beautiful and smart as you like that. i don’t know what he was thinking’. and, as sweet as his words were, you couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at his words that denounced his friend, aimed at the ears of his ex-girlfriend. but their comfort outweighed all the suspicions, so those calls became more regular. and, perhaps, that's how you got to where you are now; head upside down over the edge of his bed, with his dick fucking in and out of your throat.

“why you ain’t leave him sooner, y/n? i know he ain't ever fucked you like this”, your head tried to shake a response to him and he just laughed down at you, thinking you were absolutely adorable. even with all that spit spilling out the corners of your mouth, and your mascara running all over your face.

he had invited you over to just “chill”, but you knew better and went in a matching bra and thong—you didn’t know if it was just post-breakup loneliness, or wishful thinking because you had been feeling him for timeee. but it was a gesture he had laughed at once he took your clothes off.

“you want this dick just as bad as it wants you, huh?”, he had laughed, earning an abashed giggle from yourself. how he ended up fucking your throat, you didn't know. but you had weakened this man’s knees considerably, and now both of his hands were placed on your knees. the sight of your dainty hands toying with your clit as he used your throat as a cock sleeve made his dick pulsate in your throat. so he pulled out of you, slowly, groaning before he had two seconds to position his dick and nut all over your chest and stomach.

you no longer had loyalties to ony, so you could freely admit that connie was eating you out in a way ony never had. the pleasure he was giving you travelled through every cell in your body, even reaching your fingertips as one of your hands tried to grab at whatever parts of his bleached buzz cut it could. the other busy cramping due to how hard you were grabbing at the duvet underneath you. both of your legs rested over his shoulders as his tongue politely abused your heat. you thought you felt something in his mouth when you two kissed earlier, but the adrenaline coursing through your body had dulled your senses. but, now he had you spread open on his bed, you could feel the small ball of metal greeting your clit as he sucked it into his mouth; the combination of the cold jewellery and the warmth of his tongue making your back lift off the bed. you were so close to your end, and that gap was finally closed when the little ball started vibrating. connie’s lower face was drenched, your wetness running down his chin and neck.

not a drop of it was wasted as he wiped it on his hand and licked it all off, his eyes glued to your face the entire time. having not fully come down from your high, connie’s next movements were a blur to you. all you remembered was him pulling something out of his draw, then your legs were in his arms, your thighs meeting his hips as connie fucked into you like he would get evicted from his house if he didn't. his trimmed fingernails were digging into the flesh surrounding your thighs and his eyebrows met to furrow in the middle of his face. he no longer cared about loyalties, not with how tight you were. he would do this now, and deal with the consequences later. because how could he let his best friend get in between him and the finest girl he'd ever met?

this man fucked you mercilessly, it was as if he had a point to prove. and he did—he wanted you to know that it's him you should've been with in the first place. he would’ve been so much better to you than his friend had been. and if you couldn’t see it, you’d feel it. the tip of his dick was damn near touching your lungs, knocking out any air you had stored in them. your eyes hadn’t focused since you entered those four walls, and connie’s were clouded by you. and that cloud finally rained down when you came around him,

“c-connieee—fuck—s-so good—fuckfuckfuck”, were your final words before your second nut of the night—arousal flooding the fabric underneath you, as well as connie's lower abdomen. seeing you coat him again, and wet the places that dried after the first one, made connie’s dick throb. but he wanted you to nut again before he got his own end.

so he picked you up, and laid you on your stomach, lifting your ass up, and giving it a quick slap. the sensitivity still resounding in all your limbs exacerbated the feeling of his palm, and long fingers, meeting your soft flesh. before he spaced your legs apart, his right one knelt between them, and his left propped up beside you. in seconds he was pounding into you again. your hands were grabbing at pillows, sheets, anything to find a small grip on reality. because this man was trying to fuck you into madness. his brain had stopped working the moment your lips attached to his, and its small whisper of reason evaporated and was replaced by his dick’s harsh clamours to fuck you until he couldn’t anymore.

clamours became careless whispers telling him to nut in you, and get you pregnant so you could be his forever. something he had joked about it in your facetimes, telling you,

”i have half a mind to make you the mother of my kids. then i could take care of you forever”, your view was of him cooking shirtless, with nothing but pyjama bottoms on. and you knew there was nothing under them because of the way they sat on his hips—his v-line fully exposed. but your response had been a laugh and an eyeroll,

“shut up, bro. i’m not trynna be anyone’s baby mum”, you scoffed.

”i never said baby mum. i said mother of my kids. there’s a difference”, he had reassured, earning another eyeroll from you. that conversation replayed over, and over, again in his head. and he tried to disperse those thoughts by maintaining a firm hold on your hips, pulling you onto him as he fucked you like his life depended on it.

he was hitting you with those slow strokes that hit the right spot every single time, and it had you whining and slapping the pillows above your head,

“don't tap out on me, ma, c’mon. stay wit’ me”, and you tried, but the pleasure he was making you feel was enough to drive a grown woman to insanity.

“i'm trying con-n, but it's—nnggh—too fucking good. fuck”, he revelled in knowing he was being this good to you, even if it meant dire things for his friendship. he had always wanted to see what this pussy was like, and now he knew, he'd be back again next week. same time, same place, the only changing being the positions he bends you into.

”lo sé, hermosa, lo sé”, he smirked onto your skin as he kissed it; his plump lips starting at your shoulders, making their way down the valley in the middle of your back. his hands would travel the width of your back, before one of them wrapped around your throat to pull you up to him—your back flush against his tatted chest. his body weight rested on his heels as he fucked up into you; one hand still gently squeezing your throat, and the other gripping onto your tit like it’d fall off if he let go of it. he didn’t know what he was saying anymore, all he needed was to make you his.

”quieres un hijo, ma?”, he voiced, and you blindly just nodded, until he spoke again, ”yeah, you do? want me to put a kid in ya?”, you didn’t know if he was playing or not, but you didn’t need the mess that would come with having a kid with your ex’s best-friend. even though you were trying to collect your thoughts, your surprise caused you to tighten around him. and that just made connie go even harder.

”n-no, connie, n-no. whattabout ony-y?”, you mewled out and he scoffed at you, his grip on your throat slightly harsher.

”the fuck he gonna say? huh?”, that last ’huh’ came out through gritted pearly whites, ”how’s he gonna claim you if you got my kid in ya? huh? he ain’t gonna do shit, ma, don’t stress”, he cooed before peppering small kisses all over you.

”b-but”, you wanted to tell this man that he’d lost his damn mind, but your eyes were too busy flickering into their sockets as more whines left your mouth.

”no buts, baby, i’ll take care of you”, his mouth left open-mouthed kisses all over your neck and, with the way he was making you feel, you just nodded in agreement.

the words, ”good girl”, were the golden keys that opened the flood gates, and you came around him. that nut took all the strength from your body, and you would’ve fallen onto the bed if he hadn’t been holding you up. even still, the merciless pace which he fucked up into you with, did not falter. and you came again, crooning his name in overstimulation.

”c-conniee, fff-fuck”, your voice cracked out. he just smirked at your cute demeanour and resumed kissing your shoulders. before his groans fell deeper, and his fingertips dug deeper into your skin. his arms held you still and he came inside you—his release stealing his strength, meaning he gently dropped you onto the bed, collapsing beside you after doing so.

”you didn’t nut in me.”, you spoke quietly, and you thought the duvet had muffled you but the low chuckles rumbling from behind you told you otherwise.

”i had a condom on. you ain’t see me take it out?”, he walked off the bed, ”or did you really think i was gonna put a baby in you?”, he smirked, taking the thin layer of latex off him. his face winced at the sensitivity.

”nah.”, you spoke sheepishly, shaking your head against the duvet. he got off the bed, and made his way to the side you were laying on. once he made it to you, he grabbed you by your chin—making you sit on your legs as your body wavered. then his tatted hand was on your jaw,

”’f you want that baby, just ask and i’ll give it to ya”, his voice was quiet and the corners of his lips rose, as his eyes remained on yours. and once he saw your head make a small nod, his smile grew even bigger.

”bet.”

#nanaminsmooninc #aot x black reader #aot x black y/n #aot connie #connie smut #connie springer #connie x black reader #connie x black y/n #connie springer x black reader #Spotify

1K notes · View notes