Tumgik
#and i feel like calling them boys is taking away from the fact that these are adults and dont need your protection or coddling
bellsmess · 2 days
Text
Tumblr media
Whenever someone calls Charles Rowland straight, an angel dies.
What straight guy tells his best friend who just confessed to him that there's no one else – no one – he would go to Hell for. And that they have forever to figure out what that means. You don’t get his repressed bisexuality like I do!
Even modern bisexuals (I may or may not be speaking from personal experience) are oblivious to the fact they're bi because heteronormative roles are so engraved in our minds. When you're attracted to other genders, it's easy to miss a same-sex crush, only then to realise that oh, it wasn’t just admiration, it was attraction.
Charles, having grown up at the height of the AIDS crisis, with an abusive and probably homophobic father, killed by racist bullies? That would make anyone repress any gay feelings. Especially if you experience crushes on people with a different sex to you.
Charles sees Crystal and takes his chance. He's enamoured with this smart, strong-willed, pretty girl who can see him not only in a physical sense, but pays attention to him. He longs to be loved. Then he says the infamous "That sounds alot like you, doesn't it? Maybe that's why I like her so much" line. What an icon. And he compares himself and his best friend to the greatest love story of all time, Orpheus and Euridyce's.
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
When Edwin confesses to him, he doesn't rule out the possibility of returning these feelings. He knows they're already devoted to each other. They've already had 30 years of companionship and solving cases together.
"As long as I have my best mate and a case to solve, I'm good."
Being with Edwin is simple. They solve cases, help others, run away from Death. It's a simple existance. Charles gave up eternity to be with Edwin, because he was kind to him when he was dying. Charles finds him fun, wants to protect him, knows that Edwin is a kind and good person. One that Charles wants to be.
"Bad guys don't worry about being bad guys. And you, Charles Rowland, are the best person I know."
Tumblr media
Crystal's role is very important in changing the dynamic between Edwin and Charles. Not only because Charles falls for her, but because she opens them up. She digs out their repressed feelings and trauma. Charles finally deals with his dad's abuse, his happy-go-lucky mask falls. She points it out to Edwin. Charles kept it up so well because Edwin didn't press it, but Crystal does. And Charles finally lets himself process what happened to him, and how that affects his relationships.
Charles never saw genuine love between his parents, and that affects how he views relationships. It impacts how he forms them, too. But he's a loverboy, he longs to be loved, he falls easily. Why wouldn’t he fall for someone who stuck to his side for 30 years?
Crystal and Monty's roles mirror each other – they help the boys figure out their feelings and desires. Crystal makes Edwin jealous that there's someone else Charles cares about in the same sense he cares for Edwin. The Cat King helps Edwin discover desire, Monty – genuine love. As Charles' and Crystal's relationship kickstarts (albeit ends as quickly) and Monty persues Edwin, he discovers the depth of his feelings.
"These complicated feelings that you have? They're for Charles."
I would love to see their wants explored more in the future season(s, hopefully multiple). Charles giving into desire with Desire of the Endless' guidance? Yes please.
I simply cannot believe that anyone would doubt Painland/Payneland endgame. They're everything to each other. They're a constant presence, reassurance, and love. Platonic, romantic, it doesn't matter. Their bond is so deep and genuine that immortal beings see it and leave them be, in the afterlife they chose for each other. Their love is so deep it transcends planes: from mortal plane to Hell, it leads Charles to Edwin. Charles is not Orpheus, when he turns around to hear Edwin out on the staircase from Hell, he manages to get him out. And they have literally forever for each other.
Tumblr media
176 notes · View notes
kayhi808 · 1 day
Note
Hi! I absolutely love your writing! I was wondering if I was able to request a Bucky Barnes x Reader Idea?
The reader was best friends with Bucky and Steve in the 40s. Before Buckys fall the reader was kidnapped by HYDRA and was never seen again. Bucky and the reader have always had feelings for each other but they had never made it official back then. Fast forward, "during C.A. civil war" Tony Stark finds a HYDRA base and finds the reader inside a cryo chamber. (The rest is up to you)
I'll let you make this however you please 🙏
Thank you so much if you choose to write this!
Hi @armystrong980 !! This was such a good idea! I hope you like it. Im making this a 2 part story because there just so much to cover lol. Thank you so much for the request!! 🥰
Then & Now
Tumblr media
Your mom & Steve's mom were nurses in the same hospital. Steve was a sickly kid so you'd keep him company a lot of the time. You'd create fantastical stories & he'd illustrate pictures for it. Other times you both would re-enact parts of your story, losing yourselves in the fantasy world you created. You two were the best of friends.
One sunny summer afternoon, lost in your fantasy world you were twirling around the sidewalk, caught up in an imaginary cyclone like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, when you crashed into a group of boys coming down the walk. "I...I'm so s...sorry!" The boy you crashed into did not accept your apology, shoving you out of the way, making you fall, hitting your chin against the stoop. You saw Steve's eyes grow wide in horror and then anger. You look down & the front of your dress is covered in blood. You start to cry mostly in fear, adrenaline making you numb to the pain.
Steve flies off the stairs ready to avenge you, but you're so worried they'd hurt him too. "Stevie, no!" Everything happened so fast. The bully is flat on his back & a dark haired boy is punching away on him. Steve is off to the side trying to catch his breath. You make your way to Steve grabbing his arm. The dark-haired boy finally lets the bully up and him & his friends scatter like cockroaches.
"What did ya think you were doin'? He woulda clobbered ya!" Your hero gives Steve a gentle shove and turns his attention to you. He frowns, "Damn!" Taking off his button down, he wads it up to hold it against your chin. You start crying again, because now you feel the pain. "C'mon, lets go find your mom." Steve's hand slips into yours and you walk letting the dark-haired boy hold his shirt to your chin.
*****
You ended up needing a couple stitches which was devastating to you. You hadn't left the house in a few days so Steve's been coming around asking if you could come outside & play. You'd tell your mom "no", but one day she calls out "Sweetheart, you've got visitors." You look up from coloring on your bed to see Steve & the dark-haired boy in your doorway. "Mom, no!!" You hide your face behind a pillow, but you feel the bed dip.
Steve and the new boy climb up on the bed, "Why don't you want to come out & play? Don't you want to be my friend anymore?"
Quickly looking at Steve, "You're my best friend! Forever, r'member?"
Steve smiles, "Forever." Turning to the other boy, "Remember him? He's Bucky."
You shyly nod, "Thank you for helping me & beating that bad boy up." You notice both of them staring at the stitches on your chin & you hide it with your hands.
"Why are you hiding that? It's so cool!" Steve says in awe.
"No, it isn't! It's ugly,'" you pout.
"Are you kidding me? When you get your stitches out, you'll look like me!" Bucky thrusts his chin out so you can see his dimple. "Cool, right? Not everyone has one of these." Nudges Steve beside him, "He ain't got one. It's just me & you." That makes you giggle.
*****
You in fact, did not get a dimple in your chin when your stitches came out, but that day cemented your friendships. You grew up in the same neighborhood, went to school together. Bucky was a year older so he did have his own classmates he hung out with, but he'd always make time for you & Steve.
You eventually followed in your mother's footsteps and became a nurse. Steve was in Art School & Bucky was floating around in Sales. Whether it was cars, insurance, his charisma makes sales an obvious profession choice. He didn't take work too serious though, he was too busy hanging out with the fellas, flirting with a different girl every week.
Not that you were keeping track. Not that it bothered you seeing him flash that crooked grin at the pretty girl on his arm. Sigh. You couldn't really blame the women falling over themselves for Bucky's attention. Any time Bucky paid you attention, your heart would do flip flops in your chest. You've known him since you were 6yrs old and your crush on him started soon after.
You did some soul searching and you realized all you were doing was waiting around for Bucky to notice you as more than a friend. You didn't see that happening in the near future and you wanted to do something with your life. You wanted it to have meaning. To have purpose.
"I've got something to tell you." Bucky is walking you home from the diner where you had met up for dinner with Steve. Steve left early because he wasn't feeling well, so it left just the two of you. "But you can't tell Steve. I need to tell him on my own."
"This sounds serious," Bucky teases, tossing his arm across your shoulder.
"It...it kinda is." Taking a deep breath, "I've enlisted."
"Enlisted what?"
"I've joined the Army Nurse Corp." Bucky grabs your arm jerking you to a halt. "OW! Jamie!!"
"What the hell did you just say?!" His piercing blue eyes burns into you.
Prying his fingers off your arm, "I joined the Army Nurse..."
"Are you stupid?!" You've never seen Bucky this angry, but how dare he!
"Don't call me that! I'm smarter than you James Buchanan Barnes!"
"Are you? Coulda fooled me! You're going down to that office tomorrow & withdraw your papers!"
"I will not!"
"Doll, there's a God damn war going on!"
"That's why they need someone like me! Where ever they choose to send me, I can help! I can make a difference."
Raking his fingers through his hair, "People are DYING!"
"Well, maybe less people will die if I'm there!"
Bucky starts pacing in front of you. "Jesus! Why didn't you talk to us before you did something like this??"
"Look at you! This is exactly why."
Bucky stops pacing and cradles your face within his hands, "Please, doll." Leaning down so his forehead touches yours. "Don't go. Tell me what I have to do to make you stay? You can't leave me."
Never in all your dreams did you think Bucky would utter those words to you.
"Us...I mean us. This will do Steve in. You have to withdraw your paperwork."
Disappointed, you pull away from him. "I've signed it. I'm committed to this, Bucky. It's what I want to do."
"You're gonna get yourself fucking killed!!"
You storm away home. Heartbroken that he has so little faith in your capabilities. He called you stupid. That's not how you imagined that talk going. Maybe you expected too much from them because your talk with Steve only went a little better. He didn't call you stupid and he understood how you wanted to make difference and help but he didn't want you to leave, worried you'd get yourself killed, too.
When the time came for you to leave it was so much more painful than you thought. Steve was there to see you off. It felt like you were leaving your twin behind. Already you feel the loss of not having your best friend by your side.
Bucky was there too, standing off to the side. You were afraid he wasn't going to show up at all. When the time came, Bucky gave you a rib crushing hug but refused to make eye contact with you. He refused to say anything to you. But you felt his lips on your forehead before he stalked off.
******
"Bucky! Buck!!" Out of breath and flushed, Steve barrels into Bucky's office.
"Whoa! Take it easy, kid. What's wrong?"
Steve smashes a crumpled up paper into his chest. "She's gone. She's gone, Buck." Bucky takes the paper and sees it's a telegram. The unit you were assigned to was taken in an ambush. No. No. No. No. Bucky had to read it multiple times before it sunk in.
All the things he left unsaid. All the things he was going to tell you once you came back home. It's too late.
No survivors.
85 notes · View notes
casually-eat-my-soul · 22 hours
Note
Thoughts on a Wreck-It Ralph Sterek AU, where Derek comes from a violent, first person shooter game like Halo or Call Of Duty while Stiles comes from a bright, goofy, whimsical game like Mario Kart or Splatoon?
Honestly I think the idea is awesome but super funny. You’ll also have to sit with me here because I know nothing about video games or Wreck-it Ralph. To me, Stiles will always be the person more capable of violence, even if Derek is a werewolf. So the fact that he’s in a lighthearted game is super funny.
Derek doesn’t know anything but a life of violence. He mourns for a family that was never really his; as all the time he has with them are the violent flashbacks of the story line. He hates the argents with a passion, as they were the ones who order his family’s death. That’s why his character signed up for the military, to get revenge. Stiles is a mage who has never reached his full potential. His game is an adventure game, he tries to live up to a mother he never had, as everyone always tells him that she was the most powerful mage to live. Stiles always feels like he falls short. His character is like a fox and for some odd reason is treated harsher than the villian in his game. He is always wondering what the ending of the game would be like as no one has played until the end.
While Derek probably got sick of the unending violence of his game, it’s stiles who actually crossed over. Stiles got completely mind meltingly bored of his life within the game. He got tired of being stuck and feeling like he doesn’t belong. Being the ever so curious and mischievous person he is goes looking for an exit and finds it.
He leaves his game and Deaton puts out orders to drag him back by any means necessary. Stiles ends up running to Derek’s game because he knows that the characters from his won’t be brave enough to follow him in.
Derek was in the middle of a game, hoping that whomever was playing was semi decent so he would have to watch teammates die all over again. It doesn’t matter to him that they come back to life afterwards. When an boy falls from the sky. Derek thinks he’s the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. Something clicks in his chest and for once in his life feels whole again. He can’t remember the last time he met someone so full of life.
And when stiles tells him, he escaped from his game, Derek is ecstatic that he can get away from the death of his game.
The two of them go on the run while Deaton looks to drag them back. Derek swears to protect him, stiles promises to make him laugh. They make friends though out the games that they visit, and Derek has never been happier. In the end they find out that stiles code has been tampered with (like the little girl from wreak it Ralph). Deaton had tampered with Stiles’ code to suppress his magic. Deaton had grown jealous that Stiles was more powerful than him. Always stuck to be nothing more than a mentor, a passing character. Stiles and Deaton fight, and Derek unable to leave stiles behind takes a hit for him. In his anger stiles manages to knock Deaton out but it’s not enough to save Derek.
Stiles is begging and pleading Derek to be okay, but Derek smiles at him,“I promise you, I’ll be back, I’ll wake up again.” But they both know that only works if you die within your game. Derek has died before, but this has had to be the best one. And he tells stiles this, asks him to smile. Stiles kisses Derek.
Now I have two separate way to get to the ending:
1. Stiles in that moment unlocks all his abilities, like he would have if anyone ever played his game to the end and is able to save Derek and rewrites their codes
Or 2. Derek dies there in his arms, dissolving into pixels. And he wakes up, back his game with a killer headache. Must of been a bad round last game, he can’t remember anything after the middle of the game. Strange of him to die that early. Even stranger is the pain in his chest, Derek checks for injuries but he can’t find any, but it still feels like he got shot in the heart. Derek swears that he’s forgetting something but he can’t remember what. He spends the next few games in a haze. Something in the back his head tells him that something just isn’t right. For a brief moment as he dies each game, he remembers whiskey golden eyes and the prettiest smile he even seen.
Stiles on the other hand cannot forget what it was like to lose Derek. He is dragged back to his game, in chains by Deaton. His code is locked up even tighter than before. Deaton tells him that Stiles will be stuck in this game, and he’ll never see Derek again. The pain is unbearable and this cause Stiles to try and rewrite his code to forget Derek.
****this part is not apart of the story line but I like angst so feel free to skip but Double angst: Stiles manages to erase Derek from his memories. What he doesn’t know is that this has happened over and over again. Stiles begins to feel like something is missing from his life and goes to escape, finds Derek and loses Derek over and over again. No wonder the hale pack away treated them like friends, as they’ve know each other before, but they couldn’t say anything. Each time they fall in love, desperately trying to get it right. Desperately trying to save each other. No matter what Deaton does, no matter the code that he edits. Stiles always escapes and finds Derek and every-time they fall in love.****
Back to the story line, what Deaton doesn’t know is that pain, especially pain received out side of one’s own game, changes your code. So while stiles was looking for a way to forgot Derek he finds a way to send him messages.
Derek was on edge, everyone in his game could see it. He was far more reckless now, pulling stupid stunts to get himself killed. He’s hoping to see more of the eyes and smile that haunts him. He’s in the middle of a fight with an Npc, when he gets hit in the head and sees code. So when the game ends he goes to the console, something he has never done, and looks at the code of his game.
It’s there that he finds the messages from stiles. And it’s there that he remembers who stiles is. Derek is fill with rage, as he promises to get stiles free. Deaton wouldn’t know what was coming his way. Derek was the best hunter on his team, his early kills being savage enough to warrant the nickname wolf. He was going to rip Deaton apart and laugh at his corpse.
So he packs up and leaves his game, and hunts down stiles. His picks up the friends he made on his journey with stiles (Erica, Boyd, Issac, etc.) they managed to get stiles free and Derek does what he says he would. He rips Deaton apart, for the first time in his life he relishes in the violence he causes. Stiles unlocks every line of his code and he puts Deaton in chains.
He edits the code in his game and Derek’s to allow for each other to become a character if they so choose. Derek mostly goes to Stiles game, as he hates the idea of Stiles living in his game, of being nothing more than a soldier when Stiles is so much more.
They have each other and they have a home to go to, neither of them ever feel alone again. Derek tells the story of an angel falling from the sky at their wedding. The single moment that changed his life.
Anywhere, I hope you enjoyed this!! Thanks for the ask!!
28 notes · View notes
staytiny-dreams · 2 days
Text
dating streamer! beomgyu (c.bg x reader)
Tumblr media
pairing: choi beomgyu x gn! reader
genre: streamer! au, fluff, tiny bit of angst but not really
warnings: some parts focus on covid-19 pandemic if that's a trigger for you, i think that's all but lemme know if you think i missed anything
wc: 3.4k
note: so tired at 3am i accidentally hit the post button when it wasn't ready so if you've already seen this, no you haven't. i'm unsure how it turned out so let me know, i've also never formatted it like this before so any feedback on that lemme know too, and... look forward to the other members versions <33
Tumblr media
squeals leave beomgyu as the tension rises, the anticipation of the jumpscare he knows is coming getting the better of him
the chat speeds by
“i thought you were supposed to be good at horror games”
“what happened to beomgyu has no fear”
“we told you you should play fnaf beomie!”
“took you this long to play fnaf?”
beomgyu whines at all the ‘i told you so’ comments
“come on guyssss im so late to this how am i supposed to know you’d be interest-” he cuts himself off with a guttural scream as freddy finally makes his long awaited appearance
seeing the bamtoris laughing at him in the comments he pouts at them
“chat you distracted me okay, i let my guard down because of you!”
his pc pings with a notification and the text to speech reads out “themarcotoyourpolo says ‘HAH you are such a liar beom you would’ve screamed either way’”
when beomgyu was seventeen, he spent his time like every other teenage boy did
playing video games
but sometimes his best friend would come over and he’d pull himself away for a few hours
only to sit with you and watch streamers play other games
honestly you didn't mind when beomgyu played games when you were over
he was entertaining to watch
really entertaining actually
“hey gyu, don't you think you’d be a good streamer?” you suggested one day jokingly.
you both giggled at the little game of ‘yes and’ that followed, planning out an entire future together where beomgyu was rich and famous, and you lived in a mansion together that was just a haven for video games and your friends, but after your little tangent, the thought was dismissed as quickly as it came.
or so you had thought.
a week later, sitting across from each other at the cheapest your favourite restaurant in town, beomgyu brought it back up again.
“do you really think i’d make a good streamer?”
“why are you actually thinking about it?” you snorted, taking a sip of your water thinking he was joking again, but when beomgyu didn't say anything you tilted your head up at him.
“oh shit are you actually thinking about it?” beomgyu gave a noncommittal shrug and picked at his food, staring down at his plate. he refused to look at you until you knocked the table in front of his plate lightly.
“beomie,” you started as he stared at you with wide eyes, “i could watch you play for hours.” you don't think you could ever forget the way his smile took over his face at your words.
and that led to the next few months spent with you and beomgyu on call for hours a day
playing mostly minecraft together although occasionally he’d branch out to other games
you hit all his milestones together
he still remembers the day you first got a double digit view count
excitement flooded through the both of you as the kind soul who raided you spams your comment section
the same day, beomgyu also hit ten followers, prompting you two to make his discord server
whenever you were too busy to join him on stream beomgyu would whine and complain like his life depended on it
more often than not he’d actually end up cancelling the stream for that day
one day you didn't feel well but you decided to sit on call with beomgyu while he streams so that he wouldn't cancel
beomgyu chattered on as he normally does, yelling about how, “beomgyu never dies,” but he noticed that today you were not reciprocating that same energy.
in fact you had been so quiet that he wasn't even sure you were still alive on the other side.
“(y/n)ie are you alive over there? (y/n)? marco?” he asked and ever so faintly he heard a weak ‘polo’ sound throughout his headphones.
“one moment, chat,” he said to his 20 something viewers before deafening on discord and muting his mic.
he wriggled his phone out from where it hid in his pocket, opened your contact and called you. it dialled almost four times before you picked up.
“i’m so sorry, beomie i fell asleep. i really didn't mean to but i-” he cut you off before you could go on.
“are you okay (y/n)ie?”
“to be honest beom, i don't feel very well i-” cutting you off again, beomgyu announced that he would be coming over to cure you before promptly hanging up and ending stream leaving both you and his chatters confused.
turns out, curing you meant bringing you his mothers soup and watching youtube in bed with you until you fell asleep. your burning forehead left patches of sweat on his chest, but he couldn't find it in him to care.
from then on you had a system in place where you would check if the other was still there by calling out “marco”
and if the other person was okay they’d call back “polo”
sometimes you regretted this system on days beomgyu decided you were too quiet and abused the marco-polo system by continually calling out marco like a broken record
a little while after beomgyu turned eighteen, the pandemic started and so followed lockdown
it was a really hard time for beomgyu
you were supposed to be starting college together that year, along with your close friends from high school soobin and taehyun
but now all classes were online and he wasn't allowed to see any of his friends
going from seeing you everyday to never took a toll on beomgyu that he didn't expect
he just hated knowing you were only a few streets away and he couldn't just walk over to you whenever he felt like it
beomie :>: are you looking at the moon rn and wondering if i’m also looking at the moon rn?
ynnie <3: beom we called for six hours today
beomie :>: i know right, i miss you too :((
ynnie <3: omg fine get back on disc lets watch a movie
but with his ray of sunshine by his side, he eventually found his footing in this apocalypse
a lot of his time was spent on call with you
working on your respective assignments
watching your online lectures on 2x speed
any other free time was spent streaming
since everyone was stuck at home, due to his frequent streaming schedule
and infectious energy
beomgyu’s audience quickly grew
going from 1000 followers when lockdown had started to hitting 3000 followers within a few months
taking your advice, he also became more active on his other social medias
even posting clips of his streams on tiktok
a few of which went viral causing his channel to grow substantially again
he also started a youtube channel for those shorter games
or ideas that required more editing to execute than a stream would allow
one day, while checking his twitter dms his eyes almost fell out of his skull
he dialled you immediately
“(y/n) (y/n) (y/n) (y/n) (y/n) (y/n)!”
you took a deep breath in, prepared to repeat his name back to him in the same tone, but you didn't get the chance.
“do not copy me, we do not have time for that, this is a code blue, (y/n), code blue!”
“what on earth is a code blue?”
“big creator dmed me (y/n), come on, we’ve discussed this!”
“we’ve never discussed a code system in our entire life.”
“what that is such a lie, you just never listen to a word i say!”
“well sorry beomgyu if you talk so much nonsense that it's hard to keep up,”
“nonsense? you take that back!” he screeched, but you could only giggle at him.
“i will literally never do that. come on gyu, what’s the code blue?”
“oh, yeah! j-hope messaged me (y/n). he asked if i wanted to join his friends' discord and play among us with them.” you squealed for him, excitement rushing through you.
“oh my god, oh my god, oh my god! beomgyu, what did you say?” suddenly beomgyu felt sheepish, realising he’d just been sitting there with the message open, too busy bickering with you to have responded.
“oh um… well, nothing yet i called you first…” now this time you screeched.
“you left 20 million youtube subscribers, 1.5 million twitch followers jung ho-seok on seen? beomgyu!” you scolded. beomgyu didn't know whether to be afraid or laugh, but his endearment got the better of him and he burst into giggles at your tone.
“don't laugh at me mister, text him back right now and tell him you’d be honoured to play with them!” and as he began to type out a reply to his senior, all beomgyu could think about was how he couldn't wait to have you in his arms again.
joining such big creators in playing among us put beomgyu in contact with even more big creators and had his channel blowing up
he met many new friends including someone who would become one of his closest friends
huening kai
as covid restrictions were eased and tightened again, beomgyu made sure to see you any time he could
but due to social distancing laws, he wasn't able to tackle you in his affection the way he wished
at the end of 2020 the second wave of covid set in
your anxious mother decided that you were not allowed to leave the house until the pandemic was over
beomgyu struggled with this news
his weekly outings walking six feet away from you - but still with you - were helping him hold on to his ray of sunshine
but with your assurance that you'd spend even more time on call with him and watch all his streams, he was able to keep his mood-maker demeanour in front of his fans
“so what are your plans for valentine’s day, (y/n)?” beomgyu asked, already knowing your answer.
with february 14th approaching, beomgyu was kicking himself for not having said anything sooner because your mother still wasn't letting you out of the house and beomgyu wanted to say what he had to say in person
“what do you mean gyu? you know i’ll still be stuck at home.”
“hm… well, maybe we could do a minecraft date, like a valentine's day special.” he suggested tentatively.
“like for your stream?” you asked and he shrugged.
“we don't have to stream.”
“but beom, aren't our friends all having dinner at soobin’s that day? don't you want to join them?” you reminded him and he simply shrugged again.
“don’t want to leave you all alone on valentines day (y/n)ie.” your face felt hot. you loved your mother to pieces, but sometimes her self imposed covid restrictions really got on your nerves.
and then march came, and for the first time in twelve years you feared you wouldn't be able to spend beomgyu’s birthday with him
“mum please, i’ll do anything,” you begged, “legally four people are allowed at an indoor private gathering.”
“and what if someone there has covid (y/n)? you have asthma it could really affect you!”
“it’s only going to be gyu, soobin and taehyun. you know all of them, you trust them! plus we’re all going to test before we go!”
“and what about transport, (y/n), what if you catch it on the bus?”
“i’ll take a taxi.”
“and what if the taxi driver has it? or what if you get in the car with a bad driver or a kidnapper?”
“mum! where is all this coming from? please. it’s beomgyu’s birthday, i can't miss beomgyu’s birthday. i swear i will never ask to go out again. just please let me go see him tomorrow.” tears welled up in your eyes. you hated fighting with your mother, but you couldn't let beomgyu down like that.
but the fight was all worth it when you knocked on soobin’s door the next night and beomgyu opened it.
he pulled you inside and slammed the door shut before squeezing you tight to his chest.
“you're here?” he asked, voice muffled as it was buried in your shoulder.
“happy birthday beom,” you smiled, arms tight around his stomach.
he pulled away from your hug and before you could joke about how your mother would never let you see the light of day again, beomgyu pulled down your mask and pressed his lips to yours.
two seconds passed where you stood still, wide eyed in shock before you registered what was happening and jumped into action.
one of his hands still held your mask, and the other came down to your cheek which you’re sure must’ve been burning him from how hot your face felt. you followed his lead, grabbing his shoulder with one hand and pushing your other through the hair at the bottom of his neck.
too soon, beomgyu pulled away, resting his forehead against yours.
“i’m sorry (y/n). i wanted to wait, until after lockdown, i wanted to talk to you first but i saw you and i just-”
“i love you beomgyu.” you cut off his rambling and he let out a flustered laugh.
“i love you too (y/n), i love you so much.”
due to covid still ongoing and your mother’s strict rules, you and beomgyu decided to take things slow after that night
there were no more meetings in person as you kept your promise to your mother
nothing much in your relationship with beomgyu changed due to your agreement to take things slow
he flirted a little here and there but there were no new pet names or anything of the sort
beomgyu continued to focus his energy on streaming and you continued to focus on your studies
beomgyu’s streams always providing the perfect background noise
but don't tell him that you don't devote a thousand percent of your attention to him at all times
luckily as 2022 approached, your mother began to let beomgyu visit your home provided he wore a mask in common places and if he had any symptoms he did not come over
and in april 2022 most legal restrictions were lifted
with your second booster vaccination, your mother lifted your house arrest
it had been over a year since you confessed your feelings to each other and your 20th birthday approached
you both had a big discussion about giving your relationship a real try
beomgyu now had almost half a million followers on twitch
after grinding for two years, he now had a rather large fan base
you expressed that you were a bit worried about having your relationship public to them
beomgyu didn't quite understand your concern as you had been participating in his streams and been a prevalent figure on his social media since the beginning
however, respecting your wishes, you both worked to keep the romantic nature of your relationship between yourselves and your close friends.
while beomgyu seemed to have found his schtick after 3 years of streaming
playing horror games on stream and co-op games with you for his youtube channel
and the occasional vlog
the friends he had made playing among us, huening kai, ho-seok and jungkook had begged him to join a minecraft server and stream with them
so with your encouragement
and his conditions that his partner and best friends also join the server
beomgyu joined the bighit smp started by kim namjoon
it was only a few months after you officially started dating
just before his 21st birthday and both of your fourth and final years in college
when beomgyu came to you with his proposition
“move in together?”
“is it too soon? i know we've only technically been dating a few months, but-” you cut beomgyu off with a hand on his mouth.
he stared at you wide eyed for a split second before his expression changed. luckily, you recognised the suspicious sparkle in his eye and removed your hand from his face before he could lick it, leaving him pouting at you.
“don’t look at me like that,” you giggled but his pout only deepened and he reached over to grab the hand that was previously on his face.
“so? what do you think? you wanna live with me?”
“hmm… i think…”
“(y/n)…” he whined, dragging out your name.
“i think we’ll need to find a place with an extra bedroom, so you can stream in there and not in our room.”
living with a horror streamer
most days of the week it's fun
a substantial income
your boyfriend’s always home
your boyfriend is practically fearless… in theory
okay maybe he’s only fearless when it’s fictional media
even a little bit of clout, not that it matters to you
as you always have, you tend to join beomgyu and your other friends when they play minecraft in the bighit smp
as well as being in all of beomgyu’s vlogs
since you moved in together, you decided it was best to come clean to bamtoris (his fans) about your relationship
they were very supportive
due to your presence in his channel from the beginning, there were some long time shippers who were more than pleased to hear this news
and maybe a little cocky, plastering ‘i told you’ so posts all over their socials
yes, the beomy/n truthers were very pleased
of course there were those who were convinced he was dating other streamers
or those who shipped him with his other friends, soobin and taehyun
and just general psychos who simply hated you because he wasn't dating them
nevertheless you both saw the relationship reveal as a success
so sometimes you go and sit with beomgyu while he streams, just as you used to sit on call with him
but this particular wednesday night was a tough one
you’d been up late the night before working on your final project for college
then worked from 7 to 5 even though you were originally rostered for only 7 to 12
your head was pounding
and tonight, despite the soundproofing you had installed on the walls of the office
his shouts still reached your tired ears and made your head ache
you tossed and turned for a while, not wanting to ask beomgyu to quiet down as he was clearly having fun
but, after an hour of not being able to sleep you decided you were being stupid
beomgyu would never be upset with you for not feeling well
so you rolled out of bed, padded over to his door and knocked lightly, then cracked the door open
the light from the hall spilled into the room and caused beomgyu to look over at you with a smile
his hair was fluffy and his face was lit up by his screen and his purple leds and he just looked so soft
and before you could say anything, your face crumpled
and a few tears slipped down your cheeks
immediately muting his mic, beomgyu threw his headphones off and ran over to you at the door.
“baby, what’s wrong?” he asked, pulling you into his arms and you laughed at yourself.
“sorry, this is so stupid, i dont even know why im crying.” you mumble into his chest.
that night beomgyu ended his stream early and laid in bed with his arms wrapped tightly around you, whispering how much he loves you
and how whenever you wanted him to be quiet or even end stream he’d do it in a heartbeat
but, if you're not sick, busy or streaming with beomgyu, you're still watching his streams
and sending silly comments
you are simultaneously his favourite and least favourite chatter
your comments always make him laugh but are often at his expense
“themarcotoyourpolo says ‘poor baby, so scared of a big teddy bear’”
“you know what (y/n), get your ass in here, we'll put the headphones on you and see how confident you are then!”
but knowing you're in his chat has always given him comfort
and made him a smidge happier to be there
if beomgyu ever had zero viewers it'd be because you died and he knew that
even then if you ever wanted him to turn his computer off and hang out with you, he’d come running
at the end of the day, whether beomgyu’s screaming at his computer screen or peacefully cooking dinner with you, he is the love of your life and you wouldnt change a thing
48 notes · View notes
hwanswerland · 11 months
Text
maybe an unpopular opinion but one thing i really truly dislike is grown men being called boys. no they are not "boys", they are grown ass men that can and should be held accountable for their actions. not some 10 year old child
35 notes · View notes
awearywritersworld · 4 months
Text
megumi's teacher — gojo satoru x reader
tags/warnings: fluff. fem!reader. gojo beefing with an eight year old. 700 words.
ever since megumi started the second grade, it's been (l/n)-sensei this. (l/n)-sensei that.
gojo picks up megumi's favorite ice cream, only to be scolded by the young boy. "(l/n)-sensei's favorite flavor is strawberry, so that's my favorite now!"
gojo tries to help him with his math homework, and it's "(l/n)-sensei did it this way. that means you should too!"
gojo reaches down to tie megumi's shoes for him, before his hand is promptly smacked away. "(l/n)-sensei said big boys tie their own shoes!"
honestly, gojo is starting to feel a little jealous. megumi's known you for what? two months?
he's been raising megumi for the past few years, but does that earn him an ounce of the adoration the young boy seems to have for you?
apparently not, though he perseveres nonetheless.
he and megumi are spending the afternoon out in the city and they stop at a small bakery for lunch.
while megumi is distracted looking at all the sweets behind the glass counter, the bell on the door draws gojo's attention.
his eyes fall upon a pretty young woman. actually, you might just be the prettiest woman he's ever seen.
and of course, a smirk forms on his lips when he catches you looking his way. he's puffing out his chest, running a hand through his hair.
he's always had a certain effect on the ladies, and he's never been more happy about that until this very moment—
"megumi?" you call from a few feet away. the wide smile adorning your face makes you look even more radiant.
while gojo visibly deflates, megumi's head whips around at the speed of light. "(l/n)-sensei!"
oh.
gojo very quickly comes to understand why the boy is so enamored by you.
megumi launches himself at you, while you crouch to meet him with open arms.
"i'm so happy to see you!" he practically sings, clinging to your neck.
you chuckle at his enthusiasm. "i'm happy to see you too, 'gumi."
gojo clears his throat, hoping that megumi will take the chance to introduce you two, but he is completely ignored.
"what are you going to get? i'll buy it for you," he states proudly, despite having zero money of his own.
your gaze shifts to gojo for the first time, and having your attention even just for a brief moment takes his breath away.
"that's very sweet megumi, but that's alright." you ruffle his hair when he pouts at your words, standing back up. "who's this?"
"oh that's just gojo. don't worry about him," he states with a wave of his hand.
the white haired man gawks at him in response. the nerve on that kid! he silently decides megumi will be losing dessert privileges for a week. no, two.
you stifle a giggle before offering your hand to him and introducing yourself as megumi's teacher.
he repeats your name, taking satisfaction in the way it sounds rolling off his tongue.
"that's a pretty name," he compliments, trying to recover from megumi's dismissal. "heard a lot about you. in fact, the kid never shuts up about you."
this earns him a glare from megumi, but gojo is too preoccupied with the shy look that crosses your features to notice.
gojo insists on paying for your order, a show of appreciation for taking such good care of megumi in class. you chat with the pair of them for a little while longer before eventually excusing yourself.
"thank you again, gojo-san. i'll see you on monday, megumi!"
just as you're turning on your heel, gojo calls your name and you look back at him expectantly.
"when, uh," he struggles, scratching the back of his neck. "when do i get to see you?"
nice.
"oh! well, parent-teacher conferences are only a few weeks away! i'll look forward to seeing you then," you answer sweetly, misunderstanding the meaning behind his words.
you bid them goodbye once more and they both watch your figure disappear down the street.
megumi turns to look at gojo smugly. "weeks? that sounds like a really long time—"
"shut it, kid."
8K notes · View notes
aledmorningstar · 2 months
Text
╰┈➤Misunderstood
Summary: How the gang finds out about Sukuna's girlfriend in a misunderstanding.
Relationship: Ryomen Sukuna/Reader
Word count: 3.0k
Note: I'm a liar, I know I said this would go up yesterday, in my defense we set very optimistic goals. Please comment and feel free to send me anything to my inbox
-‘๑’-: No curses au, uni au, sfw, humor, fluff, bad english
Tumblr media
The house of the twins Yuji and Ryomen seemed more lively than normal, as every weekend they had planned a movie afternoon, the meetings began early after leaving school, buying snacks, preparing comfortable clothes and choosing some games of table.
Yuji's face wrinkled into a displeased grimace at seeing his twin dressing casually to go out for a walk down the street, while he and his friends were already prepared wearing their comical pajamas, it wasn't fair. This time it was Yuji's turn to choose the movie so as not to let his brother get away with it.
“What are you doing?”
Sukuna turned to look for a second indifferently at his brother while he finished fastening the buttons of his dark shirt. How could he take seriously his brother who maintained an irritated pout while wearing those ridiculous tiger-themed full-body pajamas?
"I'm going out, tell mom I'll be late"
Yuji's moan of annoyance echoed throughout the house, drawing the attention of Nobara and Megumi who were stealthily trying to spy on the conversation by hiding behind a wall.
"You said you would watch Human Worm 4 with us today!"
The one with the caramel eyes began to complain about the injustice that was occurring, a perfect time for his faithful friends to take action.
“We already prepared everything, you can't leave us stranded for an afternoon of movies!”
Nobara grumbled as she tried to fix the sleeves of her raccoon pajamas.
"We made a pact, you must suffer with us"
Megumi was supposed to be the most mature of the group, perhaps Sukuna had overestimated him because he never imagined seeing him share the same neuron as his friends while also wearing ridiculous beige dog pajamas.
“It's a shame brats, it'll have to be another day.”
The older twin's hands didn't stop moving trying to find the car keys; he had somehow managed to look appropriately with a hint of elegance, but without losing that menacing aura, a pair of black pants held up by an expensive belt that he had stolen from his father, a dark gray shirt with the first few buttons open showing his collarbones and the sleeves perfectly arranged at his elbows showing his tattooed arms.
"You look like a criminal"
“Who said I'm not?”
Itadori's intentions to plant some blame on his brother for abandoning them on a seemingly important night were noticeable for miles.
"At least have the decency to tell me where the hell you're going."
Sukuna took a while to respond, his eyes straying suspiciously and the trio could see a slight nervousness on his face. Wait, nerves? Sukuna? Those words were naturally contrary, it even seemed strange to put them together in one sentence. Here was definitely another shoe that was taking a while to drop.
"Mind your own business, don't be nosy"
Itadori instantly stood between his brother and the front door, blocking his way, he would get to the bottom of this matter at any cost.
"Are you planning something bad? Mom will be angry if you get into trouble again"
"Yes, yes, yes. I plan to do many bad and illegal things, in fact in this mood I plan to strangle the first person in front of me"
Itadori, Nobara, and Megumi looked at each other before leaving the hallway clear, letting Sukuna walk.
"Behave badly, take good care of yourself and if they discover you, deny everything"
“See you”
Once the so-called evil twin left the house, the hallway was completely silent for a few seconds.
“Don't you feel...? Curiosity?"
An excited Nobara looked at her friends with bright, gossip-hungry eyes.
"No not really"
Megumi's voice was ignored as Itadori pushed the Fushiguro boy's face away with his hand.
"I was hoping you'd ask, Nobara! In fact, my brother has been acting strange lately."
Itadori put on a thoughtful expression as he remembered his brother's unusual behavior in recent weeks.
"What do you mean he's been acting strange?"
At that moment Nobara had taken on a detective attitude, while the previously disinterested Megumi began to listen attentively to his friends.
“He's been coming home late, more than usual.”
“That doesn't seem strange for someone like him.”
An exalted Itadori raises his hands dramatically as he defends his argument.
“But when he is usually late it is always because he is causing problems in the streets and he is not at all careful with his arrival, now it is different!”
Sharing a room with Itadori, Sukuna didn't care how scandalous he could be when he showed up at home after curfew. He didn't pay attention to the fact that the noise of his shoes being thrown to any side of the room or that the sound of his swear words every time he tripped over something could disturb his brother's sleep.
Lately, however, the nights that Sukuna had spent late away from home had become more frequent, and Itadori couldn't help but notice even in the dead of night how messy his twin's clothes were every time he returned with silent footsteps and he also did not overlook the large number of marks that stood out on Sukuna's neck.
“Also, he has been trying hard in all his school subjects, he has turned in all his homework and sometimes he goes out to the library to study. Did you hear what I said? He goes to the library to study!”
“That's definitely not the Sukuna we know, something is happening to him.”
The three teenagers headed to the living room to sit down to discuss more calmly and solve that mystery.
“Do you think someone is bullying him?”
Itadori looked worried for a split second at Nobara's statement until Megumi gave him a strange, brief sarcastic smile.
“Are you serious right now? Do you think Sukuna, the most feared man on campus, could be bothered by someone? Jesus Christ even earned the nickname “The King of Curses”
They didn't need much time to agree with Megumi, it was impossible to imagine Sukuna being submissive to anyone.
“True, it would make more sense for him to be the one who bothered someone… It can't be possible”
“I told him clearly not to get into trouble, but he never listens to me!”
“Wait, Yuji, calm down. Don't you think that if that's the case, he's spending too much time on that person?”
Itadori seemed to think about it for a second and his face transformed into one of much more dramatic horror than before.
"So he really hates that person! Maybe he's planning a murder? Your brother isn't exactly known for being patient"
Nobara's words were the little push Itadori needed to panic.
"Sukuna definitely can't go to the correctional facility again!... Mom was very sad back then..."
Nobara and Megumi looked into each other's eyes, unable to abandon their friend in such a situation.
"Fine! Our mission today is to prevent your brother from becoming a criminal.”
"Are we allowed to use force? I still have to get revenge for the books I lent him."
The brown-haired girl, Kugisaki, was the first to stand up and was followed by Fushiguro. It seemed like a scene worthy of a movie, this was the motivational part because both friends extended their hands to the boy in tiger pajamas.
“Wait, wait, wait… What happened to your books?”
“I'll ask your brother when I see him.”
It had been approximately 30 minutes since the trio of friends had located and followed Sukuna, a difficult mission that had begun with the friends running after the older twin's car. The fatigue was overcome by surprise when seeing the target enter a flower shop.
“We're late, he's already planning the funeral!”
“Wait, give him the benefit of the doubt, maybe… Maybe he's going to visit a friend?”
“Impossible, my brother has no friends”
Nobara and Yuji's brief talk was interrupted when they saw Sukuna leaving that flower shop with a huge and pretty bouquet of yellow carnations.
"You see it? Maybe your brother is not as bad as he seems” Nobara's voice tried to be optimistic, and it also seemed strange to her that a man would buy flowers for no apparent reason.
“Now I'm quite confused” Itadori, for his part, narrowed his eyes, staring at Sukuna, trying to read his brother's mind.
Megumi spoke with a stiff voice drawing the attention of his friends.
"Don't be so surprised, in the language of flowers, carnations of that color mean contempt"
"Is he turning his assassination attempt into a performance? He's getting creative"
"Hey, he's leaving. Hurry up"
The gang quickly got into a taxi and like every chase scene, Itadori and Nobara yelled at the driver to follow the car in front of them, Megumi had to apologize to the driver at the end of the ride.
Sukuna drove his car until he reached the darkest and most dangerous neighborhood that anyone could imagine, clearly that place had an invisible sign indicating that it was better not to be there, there were few passers-by and the streets were cold with graffiti everywhere.
The older twin got out of his car after having entered the area a little, he walked as if that place was his territory, as if he felt at home, he adjusted the sleeves of his shirt, raising them to his elbows, with a bored look he observed the time on his watch and then leaned his back against the wall waiting patiently. Meanwhile, the trio had remained hidden behind a pile of boxes and seemingly useless objects, thinking about Ryomen's intentions.
"There isn't a soul in this place, what is he planning to do?"
Itadori's question was answered when Megumi held his jaw making him look to his right, his eyes widened as he saw a girl with a small frame, transmitting an aura of delicacy and fragility, she was the complete stereotype of a little princess wearing a pink dress and white sneakers, light makeup and a flower crown adorning her hair, she looked out of context walking with a smile and humming a song in that horrible alley.
"It can't be her... There's no way Sukuna..."
Nobara's words were cut off when the red-eyed man put out his cigarette and walked over to where the girl was with a proud smile on his face.
The fear that this small, fragile woman could be hurt by his violent brother made Itadori quickly get up from his hiding place and stand in front of his brother.
"Sukuna! Stop right there, don't do it!"
The sudden entrance of his nosy brother surprised Sukuna who maintained a displeased scowl at his twin's actions.
"What the fuck? Get out of the way brat, I'm on something important right now"
"Don't you dare take another step, don't do something you'll regret!"
Itadori's voice took a drastic change, sounding too threatening compared to his usual cheerful tone.
"What the hell are you talking about? Leave me alone, I don't have time for this."
Sukuna looked at the horrified girl who was just a few meters away from him, he pushed his brother away with one hand with the intention of walking towards where she was, however he was stopped and subdued on the ground by Megumi.
“Don't even try it, you disgusting scoundrel.”
“Leave me alone, you fucking bastards!”
While the three men argued and fought among themselves, Nobara also came out of her hiding place and walked towards the frightened woman, being careful not to exalt her even more, Kugisaki placed his hands on her shoulders trying to calm her down.
"Are you okay? “Did he do something to you?”
The girl's hands remained covering her mouth, completely surprised by the situation. She instantly left Nobara and ran quickly to where Sukuna was lying on the ground.
"What are you doing?! Get your hands off him!"
Megumi and Itadori's movements stopped, still holding Sukuna on the ground, they turned to look completely surprised at the owner of that little voice, their minds went blank as they watched her approach, she put her hands on Fushiguro's chest. making an attempt to push him away from the red-eyed twin.
"What are you doing to my boyfriend?! Leave him alone!"
Still bewildered, Itadori was the first to move away and placed a hand on his friend's shoulder for him to do the same, allowing Sukuna to stand up a little dazed.
"I don't know what 'Kuna did to you, but what you are doing is not right, it is not right to intimidate others, problems are solved by talking"
You stood in front of your boyfriend trying to be the one to defend him this time, you used to be a little shy when talking to strangers, but you weren't going to let your lover be the victim of such an unfair situation.
"Honey, calm down. They are—"
"No, love! They were very mean to you, no matter who they are!"
You knew that Sukuna had a special weakness for you that made him want to protect you from any danger, everyone told you that, obviously he would also want to take control of this situation in his hands. No, this time it was your turn to protect him, to be his knight in shining armor.
On the other hand, there were also the three idiots who had tried to play detective, watching the situation in astonishment.
"She... just called him love"
“Yes, she really did”
"I can't believe it"
Ryomen had tried to calm his girlfriend's little anger by taking her hands and caressing them, it worked for a few seconds until that trio spoke again.
Upon hearing the incredulous voices of those strangers, you let go of Sukuna's hands and walked a few steps close to those you thought were criminals.
"Listen, my parents are very important people, I will make sure you are punished appropriately"
Your acute and sweet angry voice was silenced by Sukuna's lips, one of his large hands finding a place on your waist while the other caressed your soft cheek.
"It's okay, princess"
"No, it's not okay-"
You tried to reply to his deep voice, you would be lying if you said it didn't make you shiver, his voice was only directed at you, only for you to hear, that made you calm down and also lowered the tone of your voice.
"Pretty, this is my stupid brother and his friends."
"...Impossible, it can't be…, they were subduing you"
"Don't worry, I'm sure they have a good explanation for doing all this, right?"
The affectionate look that Sukuna had given his supposed girlfriend had changed drastically when he turned to look at his friends, removed his touch from his beloved and walked towards the frightened trio, cracking the fingers of his fists.
"Last words?"
Approximately 10 minutes had passed after that disastrous encounter, Sukuna had considered himself generous that day so he decided to take his brother and his friends to the house where they should have stayed from the beginning, very kind, it had nothing to do with his girlfriend will look at those three idiots like abandoned puppies.
"How were we supposed to know you were visiting your girlfriend?"
"What kind of dates are you taking her on?"
"Yeah, you looked like you were about to commit a crime!"
Of course Itadori, Megumi and Nobara tested their patience throughout the car ride, complaining from the back seats and trying to alleviate the pain caused by the car owner's blows. Your curious little eyes turned to look at the trio with intrigue.
"Why do you say that?"
None of them knew how to answer your question, the answer was so obvious that they thought you were stupid or blind, of course none of them said that thought out loud, not when they felt Sukuna's psychopathic gaze in the rearview mirror. However, that didn't stop Yuji from continuing the conversation either.
"You were alone in that horrible and dangerous place, it is the perfect opportunity for a madman"
"Oh, that..."
Your calm reaction to that comment only confused them more, you were too sweet to be in those places and even worse to be there with Sukuna for no good reason.
"Her parents are renowned people and they do not agree with our relationship, that is why we must meet in the most discreet places possible"
"Sometimes dad hires people to watch me, so our meeting point for dates is that place."
The older twin's words left the dynamic trio thinking, especially Itadori and Nobara, Megumi didn't really care much, your complementation made them imagine a current version of Romeo and Juliet. The explanations of your strange relationship had clarified most of his doubts regarding the strange day.
"Wait, what about the flowers?"
Nobara's comment made all the attention focus on Ryomen who wrinkled his face in confusion until he remembered the detail that his friend was talking about at the same time that he stopped the car in front of his house.
"What flowers?"
"Oh right, I brought you something"
Sukuna got out of the car and went to the back taking something out of the trunk, a nice big bouquet of flowers appeared in front of you held by your handsome boyfriend.
"Oh, honey, you shouldn't have bothered."
"It's no bother when I can make you happy"
You received the beautiful flowers in your small hands, allowing yourself to smell them, such a fresh smell while you lovingly observed your loved one and he returned the same look, absorbed in that cloying atmosphere.
Of course that beautiful moment was not the most comfortable for everyone present, much less for Yuji Itadori imitating his twin with a shrill and annoying voice, since he had never seen his brother in that silly state.
"It's no bother when I can make you happy"
“I'm going to kick your ass”
Megumi couldn't stay silent for long either, because something kept echoing in her mind.
"But the meaning of flowers..."
"Excuse me?"
You looked at him with a smile so sweet and innocent that he hesitated for a second on his next words.
“Those flowers have a negative meaning…”
"It's funny you think my 'Kuna knows the meaning of flowers"
"We should have assumed that"
⋆·˚ ༘ *🔭 master list is here
4K notes · View notes
inupibaldspot · 4 months
Text
Wingman ain’t subtle.
Paring: Gojo Satoru x reader
Note ₊˚⊹♡ : This takes place when Gojo and the rest are students and you are one year senior/older than them
Tumblr media
Gojo thinks today is a bad day.
“y/n-senpai apparently only dates guys older than her” Shoko says she sucks the drink from the straw. As much as she’d like to be smoking, it wasn’t allowed on campus.
The lollipop in Gojo’s mouth falls to the ground which makes Geto snort.
“Sucks to you Satoru.” He comments. “If only you were born a year or two before you’d have a chance.”
Gojo winches as he looks over to Shoko with eyes pleading that she was lying “For real?”
“Yeah.” Shoko and you shared being gifted with Reverse Cursed Technique so they’d spend a lot of time training together so the two were close.
Ever since he learned that fact, Gojo had Shoko be his wing man on learning to be and also learn about your type. She was hesitant at fist but oh boy! Gojo was so hopelessly in love with you she kinda felt bad. Shoko adds. “She thinks older guy make her feel protected.”
Gojo huffs, his stomach churns with jealousy. “I’m literally the strongest…” who else would you need to feel protected?
To add on the fact that learning about him having no chance with you because of the year he was born — ‘Satoru was spawn killed.’ Geto would add— he and his classmates had forgotten to put up a veil during a mission which triggered Yaga’s, their teacher in charge, wrath.
Yaga takes in a deep breath“How many times do I have to tell you to put up a veil ?!”
Gojo really couldn’t careless as his teacher yaps away and probably neither did both of his two friends. He could see Geto nod at times as if acting like he was taking Yaga’s word to heart and with Shoko dozing off with her eyes open.
He does his best to fight back a yawn as something suddenly grabs his attention. You. His eyes trail to you ,who was a year senior to him, walking along the hallway, revealed by the long strip of windows between the classroom and hall. Gojo thinks you’re the loveliest piece of existence in the planet as you gently tug a piece of hair behind as you talk with Utahime.
Feeling a piercing gaze — or maybe it was Yaga’s shouts— you look over inside the class as meet your eyes with beautiful vibrant blue ones of your junior, Gojo Satoru’s.
When you give him a smile and a small wave, you weren’t expecting him to straight up beam at your direction and full on wave as if a kid would wave at an airplane passing by.
Of course this angered Yaga further as a nerve pops on his forehead and hands clenched. “Pay attention, Satoru!” He swings his fist at the boy.
The impact of his teacher’s fist on him sends him flying. If he weren’t such a good student he would have actually used his limitless to block such hits but alas— it may not look like it but he was. “Sensei—! Hitting your students should be against the law.”
He sees Geto sent him an amused smirk and Shoko,who finally woke up, trying to figure out what was happening and to his horror, you were giggling at him. Not many things can make Gojo feel embarrassed but his crush laughing at him when he got hit was one of it.
Yup-! That’s exactly what he needed; his crushing laughing as he gets beat up and lectured by his teacher. His day was going fan-tas-tic!
The day goes on with with the remaining classes. Evening classes were usually training so Shoko was in infirmary with Gojo and Geto on the training grounds but one thing bother Gojo was that the ‘hit’ from Yaga earlier did leave an impact. The back of his head a aching and even made him jump when Geto applied the slightest bit of pressure.
Call him dramatic but he didn’t want the ache to go on further so there he was on his way to the infirmary. He really needed Shoko to patch him up.
He slides the door open as he starts to complain. “Shoko heal me up. Yaga’s hit really did some damage on me”
“You’re hurt?”
Hearing a voice which wasn’t Shoko’s and with almost a magic like ability to make his heart race grabbed his attention. He turns to see you who was near the storage cabinet as if you were arranging something.
“I- uhh…” Suddenly his throat constricted and he couldn’t speak. His face heats up as you tilt your head waiting for an answer as he clears his throat. “Just a bit, y/n.”
“Shoko is out though. She got called to assist in a mission. ” You smile as you sit on a near by chair, pulling another chair beside.
You smile at him as you pat the chair beside yours indicating him to sit down there which makes him tense up slightly but he does as told. “Also you should be calling me ‘senpai’. Utahime-senpai was complaining that youth these days have no manner.”
You laugh. “Now tell me where you’re hurt.”
He sits beside you as he tilts his head and points at his sore spot. “Here.”
Gojo watches you raise your hand and inspect his heat, the places where your fingers grazes heats up which makes him gulp deeply. You laugh as you see a swelling on his head. “Wow- Sensei really did hit you hard…”
The white haired boy relaxes as he he feels the calming sensation on his head which means you were using your technique of healing him. “Does age really matter that much?”
You hum as if thinking through your answer. “Of course. Even a year older means you’ve been in this world for a year longer. That in itself is commendable enough.”
“I heard from Shoko that you like guys older…” Gojo says no longer trying to contain the jealousy in his voice. “Is it because of the same reason?”
Gojo watches your eyes widen and blink in confusion; he thinks any expression you make is so so adorable. You then proceed to giggle. “Just because I dated people who are older than me doesn’t mean I have a type.”
Damn that Shoko probably messed around with her wording. Gojo curses as the girl made it seem you would only date guys older than her.
“For example…” You hum as you bring your finger up to your lips. “Right now I like a guy who is younger than me who never respects his elder.”
Hearing her words, every restrain in his body breaks free and Gojo stands up from his seat ; before he knows it his lips are on yours. He hold your face in place, cupping both side of his cheeks.
Gojo kisses you. Your lips are softer than he imagined it to be and when you let out a small moan he deepens it, stronger and desperate as if trying to memorize every inch of you.
He brings one of his hands to the back of your head, as he runs his hands through your hair. His lips keep moving as if he had lost his mind; deep and urgent as if he couldn’t waste a single second.
Out of breath, he pulls away and looks at you who was breathing heavily and lips slightly plump from his desperate tugs and bites. He watches the same lips curl into a smile as you give him a teasing smile. “Also tell Shoko to quit being your wing man,Satoru. She isn’t quite subtle about it.”
Check out more of my work here !! <3
4K notes · View notes
supercutszns · 5 months
Note
Hi!! Just had to drop in and say I LOVED your Luke fic and I can’t wait for more. I would love protective Luke with hurt/comfort, if that sounds interesting at all. Thanks for sharing your writing!!! 🌸
fighting chance; luke castellan
Tumblr media
wc + pairing: 4.2k, luke castellan x daughter of ares! reader
synopsis: when an enemy takes advantage of your kindness during capture the flag, luke intervenes with a sword in hand.
warnings: a creepy boy👎, threats/harm to reader, she’s going through it, blood/injuries (nothing major), angry ANGRY luke, violence, lots of fluff/reassurance at the end<3
notes: thank you SO much for your kind words & your request!! hurt/comfort is my bread and butter my favourite fic genre of all time i think. & protective luke is just a bonus bc he’s already crazy so it can go as far as i want🤭 i’m not exactly sure what this turned into but if i fix it any more i'm going to go insane so hope you like it!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
You’re not much of a fighter.
That alone is a normal thing to admit—plenty of people don’t like violence, the frisson of a challenge, the bruises that come with them. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.
Unless you’re a child of Ares.
People at camp often ridicule your gentle nature when they see you with your half-siblings. They’re all gritted teeth and sharp edges, born warriors that take up all the space they can get. You, on the other hand, are lousy with weapons and even lousier with your fists. You’re quiet, attentive. While your siblings charge into battle without second thought you stay back, flitting around to adjust armour, change out weapons, oversee the terrain. Planning isn’t Ares’ style so you’re pretty much useless but nobody wants to admit it. You’re usually mistaken as a child of Hephaestus or Athena.
Unfortunately, you are a child of Ares, through and through—just in none of the ways that matter.
There are rare times your father’s influence peeks through. Not with bursts of rage or fists flying, but with thoughts. And sometimes those thoughts turn into words. Well, not sometimes. One time. This one.
The evening before the camp’s Capture the Flag game, every cabin gathered around the bonfire past dinner. To burn offerings, to chat, or in Luke Castellan’s case, to admire.
He watches you laugh with Clarisse from a distance. The Ares cabin leader always had a certain fondness for you. When Luke first started dating you he had to ask Clarisse for her blessing beforehand just to be sure she wouldn’t kill him. He’d do it a million times over just for the moment you look back, your face warming when you catch his stare. He rolls his eyes at you to lessen his smile, but he’s not sure it works. You giggle and turn back to your friend.
He’s always loved your softness; your capacity to defend and not attack. Your body rejects any skill you could possibly develop for violence. Believe him, he’s tried to teach you sword fighting, but the last time he gave you a lesson you nearly impaled yourself thirty seconds in. He loves your wit and your tenderness, your proficiency at preventing conflict, your refusal to argue. But a selfish part of him loves the fact that he’s your protector even more.
The night wears on with the flickers of fire and friendly banter. One of the times Luke looks back at you, his brows wrinkle. There’s a guy talking to you. A group of them, actually, but there’s one clearly leading the pack. Some Aphrodite kid. Luke’s jaw twitches.
“Hey, princess,” the voice makes you pull away from your talk with Clarisse, but you’re confused. Luke is the only one that calls you that.
“Um, me?” You ask when you see the boy in front of you. He’s tall, chest puffed out. It’s not an endearing silhouette. “What’s up?”
“You wanna be on my team for Capture the Flag tomorrow?” He asks nonchalantly.
You laugh politely, “Sorry, but I don’t think we’re allied with Aphrodite tomorrow. That’s your cabin, isn’t it?” You feel bad that you can’t remember—his face is so … plain.
He chuckles back, but it’s a lot less nice. “No, doll, that’s not what I mean.” He steps a little too close, and even though you know Clarisse is behind you it feels like she’s a thousand miles away. “Well,” he drawls, a smirk drawn out, “you meet me in the forest after we start, and then we can … you know. Confer.”
“Confer?”
“Yeah. You get what I mean, pretty girl, don’t play dumb.”
A revulsion coats your gut. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t call me that,” you say as firmly as you can.
“What, pretty or dumb? Why not both?”
It’s demeaning, the way he says it, and it stirs a temper in your stomach you know you inherited from your father. You’re not big on confrontation. Or embarrassment. But this weirdo is talking to you out in the open and people are starting to stare. He wouldn’t dish it out if he can’t take it, right?
“I’ll pass on your offer. I have a boyfriend and I’m actually on his team tomorrow, so I’d rather confer with him, sorry.” Your hands wring together but you do your best to quell them, imagining it’s the string of Luke’s camp necklace, threaded between your fingers. You try to look for him out of the corner of your eye.
He snickers, even though it’s common knowledge you and Luke have been together for months now. “So you are dumb, huh?” He tries to smirk and you assume is supposed to be sexy, but it’s just gross. His hand tries to slide around your waist.
“Don’t touch me, please,” you hit his hand away. Your skin is crawling and the knot inside you tightens.“Just leave me alone. People are looking, you know.”
“We could go somewhere where nobody looks,” he sneers, and the grin on his face is so sleazy that you just can’t stand it anymore.
You pray to your father for strength. And to yourself for forgiveness.
“I’m sorry, are you stupid or something? I told you, no.” You snap. “Maybe you’re the pretty dumb one, but for a child of Aphrodite it’s shocking how little the first one applies.”
His eyes are wide, and the posse he’d assembled behind him has attracted quite the view. You almost feel like crying, all these eyes on you, but you’re so sick of people thinking they can walk all over you just because you’re not like your siblings.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? I’m just trying to be nice—” He grabs your wrist as you leave but you yank it hard.
“Don’t. Touch me.” People are staring at you now, but the only one you care about is Luke, who looks equally ticked and equally proud, and all you want to do is kiss him. “Hope the only time we confer tomorrow is if somebody’s sword is at your throat.”
It’s the last thing you say to him. He starts to go after you but Luke is already at your heels. “Back off, man.” You can spot how all his muscles are already rearing themselves for a fight. You wrap a hand around his wrist, and he meets your eyes. Not now.
The altercation is lost the second the two of you leave the bonfire. Nothing matters when Luke has you in his arms, kissing you outside of your cabin, telling you how damn beautiful you looked.
Tumblr media
You’re fixing a new Ares boy’s armour when Luke finds you. “Hey, angel,” he says, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek. He relishes in the way your face heats up. “You ready for battle?”
You smile, “Always.” You pat the kid on the cheek and send him on his way. He gnashes his teeth and roars, joining his siblings at the front. Luke catches the longing in your expression.
“All good?” He asks gently.
It takes you a second for your eyes to meet his. “Mmhm,” you swallow. “Just hope his armour doesn’t fall off.”
Luke sighs for a moment, then wraps his arms around you. “He’ll be fine, sweetheart. Be safe, okay? Stay close.” He kisses your temple, rubbing circles on the nape of your neck.
“Yes sir,” you reply against his chest. His insides flutter.
He pulls your face up to his and kisses you, tender and wanting. “Let’s show these hooligans who’s boss,” he quips.
“You’ll show them. I’ll hide in the woods until some idiot comes along and tries to ambush you.”
Your dulcet tone has him wrapped around your finger, and you don’t even know it. “You’ve always got my back,” he croons, kissing your brow.
“And you’ve always got our flag.”
You kiss him again and he lets you slip out of his arms no matter how badly he wants to keep you there forever. He watches you vanish into the trees, and his heart goes with you.
He gears up with his team and the horn sounds. Game on.
There’s yelling, sweat, adrenaline, and Luke embraces it all like a man starved. This is his chance to be ruthless, to let all his untapped rage cycle through him. This is why he’s unstoppable. This is why he’s the best.
Clarisse is unusually cooperative today, but competent as always, and whenever someone’s weapon breaks or they lose their team she just barks at them to go find you. You, the smartest person in Ares, who can mend a weapon with nothing but blades of grass and determination. Luke is pretty sure your cabin would be lost without you. He wonders if you know.
The groove of the game has fully enthralled him. He’s alert, his wrist nimble, his sword a living, breathing part of him. There’s almost nothing that can take him out of his victory path until he hears one of the younger campers tell Clarisse he can’t find you anymore.
Whatever nincompoop he’s dealing with is left groaning on the floor. “What?” He barks, hand flexing around his sword. “Where is she?”
“Probably just moved,” Clarisse grunts as she kicks back an opposing camper. “She knows where everything is. Maybe she’s—oof—safer.”
“But how am I supposed to fix my spear?” The kid frowns.
Luke runs his tongue along the roof of his mouth, dry and laden with salt. He told you to stay close. Where would you go? “I’ll find her,” he decides, already sheathing his sword to walk towards the trees.
“Luke—”
“I’ll find her!”
He barely pays attention to the calamity going on around him. With a flick of his wrist he knows he can take out any person he wants. The second he gets to the trees, where the air is cooler, it’s startling how much quieter it is. No wonder this is your preferred hiding spot.
He thanks the quiet a thousand times over because if it had been any louder he wouldn’t have heard you scream.
It’s so short it’s almost indiscernible, but he knows it’s you based on how his body movies before his brain does. It snaps something in him, the adrenaline transformed into something acerbic, determined.
“Don’t fucking scream again.” A cluster of boys are stationed around you. You’re leaning back in the dirt. You barely feel the earth sticking to your skin. Just your heart jostling madly, your fingertips shaking in the ground beside you. “Okay, I won’t, just put the sword down—”
The snarling Aphrodite boy from last night takes a swing at you, and you scramble back just enough to avoid it. “No can do, doll.” His face is twisted with rage. The lackeys he had when you told him off are there too, cornering you against a cluster of trees like you’re some caged animal. There’s a dagger clenched in one of your dirt-ridden fists but you know it won’t do you any good. You can’t fight; you don’t have it in you. But these boys do. And they’re angry.
“Tell me where the flag is,” he orders. The tip of his blade comes under your chin, fogging up with the labours of your breath, your head pressed against the trunk of a tree.
You stutter, “You’re not—You’re not supposed to threaten like this—”
“You embarrassed me in front of all those people yesterday,” he cuts you off. “Thinking you’re so fucking smart. I didn’t even say anything that big a deal but you run your mouth to the entire camp and make me look like the idiot. I thought you were nice.”
The words are laced with poison. You know from the wild look in his eyes that this isn’t about the flag at all.
Tears sting your eyes and the sword grazes your throat. Of course this is happening to you. The one time you feel your father’s rage, when you exemplify the thing you’re told to be, you are punished.
You are never going to be the right kind of daughter.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” you try to say it evenly, but your breath is so ragged it’s barely audible. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said all that.” You mean it, but they won’t care.
The boy’s face looks pleased at your tears. It makes you inexorably ashamed. “Some fucking Ares kid,” he snorts. “Can’t even fight, can you? Can’t even pretend to.” His sword leaves your throat and travels up to your quivering jaw. You’re wordless, white-knuckling the dagger at your side, praying that Luke is somewhere nearby.
“No wonder they stash you back here. You’re useless.” His eyes scan every part of you, and the idea of him knowing what you look like forever is so revolting it makes you want to vanish. “Too bad you’re alone, though. Nobody’s gonna know I was here because nobody’s gonna hear you.”
Your eyes get wide, and something in your mind rumbles through you like an engine. An urge buried in your blood.
Your dagger tears into his leg just as his sword dashes your arm. The pain is sharp, stinging, but the boy winces and you know you hurt him too. It gives you just enough time to roll out of the way as he lurches forward. “The fuck is wrong with you?” He swears.
Blood drips onto your shorts, splotched with tears. You know you can’t go anywhere because his friends are here and you’re almost certain you’ll be maimed, but you tried. At least you tried.
The Aphrodite boy picks his sword back up, stalks towards you, and then freezes.
Because Luke has just spotted you. And he’s spotted the boy that has you on the ground.
And he’s the best fucking swordsman Camp Half-Blood has seen in three hundred years.
“If you don’t get away from her right now I’m putting this through your skull.” He emerges from the foliage, his sword raised, sweat dripping down his face. You have never seen anyone look angrier. He has never felt angrier.
The boy blanches, and Luke sees how easily his lapdog friends shrink in his presence. Good.
“Woah, easy,” the boy holds his hands up in mock surrender and tries to flash a smile but it’s just fucking pathetic. His arms are shaking and his throat bobs about a million times. “We’re just playing the game.”
“Like hell you are,” Luke spits. “You gang up on my girlfriend and you expect me to believe this is fair play? Want me to tie you all together and push one of you off a cliff to keep the spirit going?”
“Didn’t know she was yours,” the boy tries to shrug but again, it’s a miserable attempt that only makes Luke feel stronger.
“Not that it matters but yes, you do,” Luke chuckles thickly. “I beat your ass in sword training last week. You know exactly who I am. And I’m sure you know who you are, so it’s obvious you’re playing out of your league here.”
Out of the corner of his eye he sees you still cowering, blood dribbling down your arm. He wants to tear the world apart. “Apologize and maybe I don’t send you to the infirmary.”
“We just want the flag, man,” the boy swallows.
“And I want your head on a stick. Want to see who gets what first?”
It’s too provocative an insult for a moron like this to ignore, so soon Luke has the pleasure of disarming five bitter boys that have clearly never been good at a single thing in their life. He tears through them like sheets of paper, knocking them to the dirt, ripping their clothes. He thinks of you, just you, your honest heart and patient hands, and it’s enough to fuel him for a millennia.
The last boy, the leader, is at Luke’s mercy, and he has none to give. The flat of Luke’s blade is pressed horizontally against the boy’s neck, an angering similarity to the position he had you in earlier. “If you ever do this again, I’m going to kill you.”
“You’re—fucking—crazy—” The boy wheezes, the length of the blade squeezing his throat against a tree trunk. “I’ll—I‘ll tell Chiron.”
Luke has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep him from doing something he regrets. “Oh yeah? You want me to tell Chiron how you harassed and terrorised a girl in the middle of the forest all in the name of play? Want me to tell him what you said to her last night at the campfire? Because I’m sure it won’t take much for him to get rid of your ugly face as it is, and I’m a camp counsellor.”
He knows it’s not the most morally correct use of his title. He knows he might be stepping over the line. But he also knows you’re always being ignored or trampled over and he’s tired of pretending like he doesn’t give a damn. He’s tired of people trying to force you into something you’re not. Of you crying in his bed at night because they’re trying to drag a violence out of you that isn’t there. Always in the name of fucking play.
Luke takes the sword off the boy’s neck and shoves him backwards. His calf is bleeding, not a deep wound, but a wound nonetheless, and Luke is full of pride when he realizes you did that. The boy’s bad leg makes him wobble and fall at the force of the push. Luke enjoys watching the scramble. “I—I was just trying to be nice, it’s not my fault she took it the wrong way!” The boy flails his hands in the air, rising to his feet again, and Luke shoves him down twice as hard. A piece of his shirt tears off in Luke’s hand.
“You’ve gotta stop talking or I really am going to kill you,” he seethes. “Don’t touch her ever again. Go.”
Luke is sure he looks homicidal right now because the guy finally tumbles his way down the hill. His body fades into the distance, swallowed up by shrubbery and sweat.
The second he’s gone Luke tosses his sword and armour and gets back to you. “Shit,” he mutters, kneeling down. You’re still shaking, your head in your arms, and all his hatred morphs into a love so desperate it terrifies him. “Angel, come here. Let me see.” He lifts your face with his hands and scans you rapidly. “Did he hurt you anywhere else? Anywhere?”
“Just my arm,” you whimper. “My arm.”
He knows it’s not the cut that’s hurting you; it’s long, but thin, and it’s not bleeding too thickly. He takes the cloth from the Aphrodite boy’s shirt and wraps it around your arm, knotting it at the end. “All right, that should be better.”
You look at him with watery eyes, and he knows all you need is for him to hold you. He folds you in his arms and leans against a stump. You can’t get close to him fast enough. The tip of your nose buries itself in his neck and he feels the dampness of your cheeks on his skin. “It’s okay, sweetheart, you’re safe,” he soothes, pressing a kiss to your hair. “I’m so sorry.”
Guilt swaths over him for a brief moment; he wonders if he shouldn’t have done all that, if he should’ve been more sensible. Then your lips form a ‘thank you’ against his skin and all is forgotten.
You feel so small. The shock is still running its course, so all you can do is cry it out. Your hands still shake when you thread your fingers through Luke’s necklace to steady them. He soothes you the best he can, running his hand along your spine, all the sharpness of his voice softened just for you. “You’re all right, angel. I’m not going anywhere.”
You stay like that for a while. The sounds of the forest return to you; leaves in the wind, birds chirping, Luke’s breath tickling your hair. You crane your head up to nuzzle your nose against the faint stubble of his jaw. “My hero,” you murmur, and feel his skin shift as he smiles.
“Couldn’t have done it without you. Saw the cut you gave him on his leg.” He kisses your temple. “I hope it gets infected.”
You giggle weakly no matter how you try smothering it in his chest. “Gods, you’re awful.”
“He deserves it! I probably should have killed him!”
“You came pretty close, didn’t you?” You mumble. Luke’s expression is wary, but you smile to yourself and it dispels everything. “I was hoping you’d come.”
“Good. Serves them right, messing with you like that. Fucking idiots.” He kisses your face again for good measure, “You sure they didn’t get you anywhere else, princess?”
You nod but you know you look wounded. You nudge into the crook of Luke’s neck again. “They … you know, it’s just … the usual stuff.” Every word weighs a pound as it comes out. Your heart feels sore.
Luke tenses again instantly. “What usual stuff?”
“Um, just—” The shame gets caught in your throat. “They all think I’m useless, Luke. Why can’t I do this right?”
You start to cry again, but he just holds you closer. Sometimes it surprises you how much patience he has. He prides himself as the harsher one between the two of you, but you don’t know who he’s fooling with the way he always knows how to comfort people.
“I don’t know what to do,” you continue, blinking back tears, “I’m not—I’m just not good at this, I don’t know why I’m in Ares, I don’t know why I can’t … be that. Why is he my father? I’m no good at being angry. I want to be angry.”
Luke’s quiet for a moment. Nothing changes except his hand rubbing circles on the nape of your neck again. Then he sighs deeply and says, “You don’t owe your father a damn thing. You don’t owe anyone anything.” He’s resolute, firm, a sharp contrast to his gentle kiss on your hairline. “You’re the smartest, most generous person I know. You need those people in battle. You’ll lose if you don’t.”
The warmth of his skin prompts you to look up at him. He looks different so often, the way he can shift between so tough and so gentle. Sometimes, like now, he’s caught in the middle, the remains of a furious sweat hardening his face, but his eyes are nothing but tender. You think it’s how you like him best.
“Besides, we’re not our parents, right? Who cares about Ares anyway?” Luke shrugs.
“Luke! Don’t say that!” your tears turn into a giggle. “The Gods might punish you!”
“I’ll handle it. There’s enough fight in me for the both of us.”
“Okay, tough guy,” you mutter with a weak smile.
You’re still sniffling. He runs his thumbs across your cheeks, and his gaze softens. “You’re an Ares kid because you are a fighter, angel. You just fight a hell of a lot smarter than the rest of us. Best one I know. Well, other than me.”
It makes you smile. “So second-best?”
“Tied for first.”
He kisses you with that stupid roguish smile. It’s salty with tears and sweat, but it mends your heart anyway. There is nowhere in the world you’d feel safer.
“I love you,” he says against your cheek. “Be as sweet as you want. If anyone has anything to say about it I’ll mess ‘em up good.” Your face warms as his voice drops to your ear, “And I know you’re an Ares kid because you’ll encourage it every time. You might not have a violent bone in your body, but you sure don’t have a problem with me using mine.”
“Diplomatically, Luke. Diplomatically.”
“Sure, sure. Whatever you want.”
You can’t help but kiss him again. You’re not entirely sure why he loves you so much, why you love him so much, but you never feel quite as secure as when you’re with him.
Cheers boom from the other side of camp. Luke’s head perks up like a dog, and you turn back to search for spots of red or blue. “Did we win?” You ask, craning your head to get a better view.
“Don’t care,” Luke says.
You look back at him. His anxious face says it all. “Yes, you do.”
“Okay yes, I do, and I need to see if those douches found our flag so I can choke them out with it.”
You laugh, standing so Luke can jog off to see the state of your team. But before he goes, he picks you up and smothers you in kisses, holding you like you’re his prize.
You are not a fighter, but your boyfriend sure is. And you’re perfectly okay with that.
3K notes · View notes
melzula · 3 months
Note
Can you please write jealous Zuko? It can be however you like😊
a/n: i love jealous zuko! however this ended up being more angsty than i intended😭 hope you enjoy!
summary: a party at the palace leads to a deep revelation for zuko
Tumblr media
He was miserable.
The palace didn’t throw parties very often these days, but the recent conquering of another Earth colony was deemed a call for celebration, and so all of the noble families in the Capital City were invited to attend. A grand feast was held and praises were showered upon Ozai throughout the night. It was one of the rare times Zuko didn’t have to worry about his father’s wrath, and so he should have been enjoying himself.
But he couldn’t, not when he could see that across the way another boy was flirting with you right in front of him.
You were Zuko’s everything- his childhood best friend that he’d always held harbored feelings for. During his banishment he thought of you constantly, and upon his arrival he immediately asked you to be his girlfriend. You were sweet and friendly, easily approachable and always able to cheer him up despite his moodiness, you were perfect. And apparently this other boy could see this too.
You smile out of politeness and nod along to the boy’s rambling story about his fire bending skills and high IQ, not very interested in listening but too nice to brush him off. It infuriates Zuko to see someone else take advantage of your kindness, and he’s unable to just sit back and watch any longer.
A harsh hand lands upon the boy’s shoulder, startling both of you in the process. Zuko’s eyes are blazing with fury, his palm scorching the fabric of the boy’s robes and scaring the spirits out of him in the process.
“Can’t you take a hint? She doesn’t want to talk to you!” the Prince bellow angrily, prompting a few guests nearby to turn their heads curiously towards the commotion. A bit embarrassed at the sudden attention, you gently pull Zuko’s hand away and drag him out to the gardens before he can escalate the situation any further. The last thing you need is for him to cause a scene at his father’s party.
“What?” Zuko says defensively as you wordlessly walk through the palace hallways. “I was helping you!”
“You were acting jealous again,” you chide gently.
“No I wasn’t!” He argues defensively only to shrink under your pointed gaze. “…I was.”
“I love you, Zuko, but I don’t love how jealous you can get sometimes. I’m your girlfriend, don’t you trust me?”
“Of course I do!” He interjects quickly, almost offended at the notion.
“Then what is it? Why do you act this way?”
Zuko is silent, his eyes casted sullenly to the floor as you patiently wait for his answer. You take his hands in your own and give them a reassuring squeeze to let him know you’re there for him, and the act seems to coax him out of his stupor.
“I’m afraid you’ll change your mind about being with me, and once the right guy comes along you’ll realize you’re better off without me,” he admits quietly, almost ashamed to voice the thought out loud.
“Zuko…” you utter sadly, heartbroken at the fact that he could even believe such a thing.
“Why do you want to be with a boy who’s been exiled from his own country before? Whose own father burned his face? Who’s so messed up in every way possible?”
Gently carefully cupping his face in your hands, you tilt his head upward to meet your sincere gaze. His eyes are glossy with tears he refuses to let fall, and your heart aches for the poor boy before you. You wish you could take away all of his hurt in agony, but you can’t, so you do your best to take away his insecurity instead.
“I wish you could yourself the way I see you,” you tell him lovingly. “You are more than enough for me, more than I could ever ask for. You’re strong, you’re brave, you’re smart. You’re you. I love you, Zuko. No one’s ever going to get into the way of that.”
He says nothing in response but simply yanks you into his arms for the tightest hug you’ve ever possibly received. You know he isn’t the best at words or emotions, but his embrace conveys that he is grateful for every word to come out of your mouth.
He knows he may be jealous at times, but he also knows that he doesn’t have to be anymore.
Because you’re not going anywhere.
| atla tags: @sirkekselord @niktwazny303
| zuko tags: @thebluelcdy @royahllty @the-firebender-girl @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @knaite-solo @taeeemin
3K notes · View notes
dumbbitchgalore · 13 days
Text
tf141 hanging out together and finding out that old man!Price has a girlfriend 💫
The crowded pub bustles with the commontion of drunkards of varying degrees. Some slightly tipsy while others have decided to forgo their pants in the name of the King.
And then there's a group of men occupying a table at the corner of the pub. Simon with his balaclava on, Kyle with a cigarette between his fingers savouring the arcid flavour and Johnny ogling some girls on the other side of the pub.
All that was left was John, who makes his way to the table with four pints of beer. He sits down at the table with a grunt as he passes each on of the boys a glass. They all start chatting and catching up about everything's thats happened after Price's retirement.
Johnny begins to bitch and whine about the new captain saying how uptight he was critising everything the squad does that John would've probably turned a blind eye to.
John chuckles slightly, listening to them all talk about what's is going on with the taskforce. Despite the smile on his face, there is a bitter resentment inside of him, gnawing at him.
Useless, useless, useless
He takes a swig of his drink hoping that it'll calm his worries down. And lo and behold he receives a call from you, his baby. He smiles to himself and picks up the phone.
"Hey birdie, doing okay by yourself at home?" He asks softly.
That one sentence caught the attention of the other boys as they give each other quizzical looks. Who the hell could their former captain be talking to?
His mother, maybe his sisters? Nah, he wouldn't call any other birdie.
They listen to John's gravelly voice and breathy laughs as he talks to the mystery person on the phone.
What felt like hours to the boys and a few fleeting seconds for John, he hangs up and faces the group. He raises an eyebrow when he sees their faces contorted into expressions of confusion and curiosity.
"What?" John asks slightly defensively
"Who's the birdie, Captain?" Johnny asks with a tooth grin.
John shakes his head, "my girlfriend." he says in a matter-of-fact tone.
Their jaws drop to the floor. Shocked would be an understatement as to what they were feeling and thinking right now.
"You sure it's not schizophrenia, sir?" Kyle asks.
John huffs in annoyance. What the hell? Couldn't they just accept that John finally had someone in his life. A perfect little doll who patiently waits for him at home.
They all start to laugh obnoxiously, barking and howling as if they were witnessing a circus show. And John's irritation grew tenfold and he huffs a sigh of annoyance.
"Oi captain, why don't you show us a picture of your birdie and then maybe we'll believe ya. Or well just keep thinking that the sarin gas is still in your system." Simon says, followed by a cackle.
John rolls his eyes and opens his photo gallery and shows the trio a photo of you and him. The picture is of the two of you in bed, with you resting your head on his shoulder with a smile on your face as John is still fast asleep. Evidence of the previous night's lustful tendancies still apparent on both of them.
This time their jaws drop for certain as the tangible evidence is placed in front of them. You're beautiful, and that fucked-out, post orgasm face is something else. This isn't fair. How did Price get blessed with a beauty such as yourself.
Soap scowls and scoffs looking away and crossing his arms in annoyance. While Kyle gushes about how lucky Price his to hide his jealously rearing its ugly head. And simon simply stares at the photo with a discerning expression on his face.
John smiply smiles, his ego fuelled and his pride sky high.
"Well boys, I gotta get back to my doll. Maybe next time I'll bring her along." He exits the pub, leaving the boys all confused and jealous.
2K notes · View notes
gyusrose · 2 months
Text
➵ you’re so vain -> l.hs
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
⚠︎ smut (mdni)
✎ jock!heeseung x reader, enemies to ?????, heeseung is rlly annoying, hate sex ;), hair pulling, dirty talk, unprotected sex, degradation, backshots lmao. i think that’s it?
summary: attending a new school was supposed to be a fresh start for you, trying to be nice to everyone and have new friends, yet coming across lee heeseung threw all of that out the window.
(heeseung x fem.reader)
wc: 3.2k
Tumblr media
your sweaty hands could not be gripping the steering wheel any harder. you wouldn’t call yourself “super shy” but when it comes to a whole new community of people, teenagers, hell yeah you are.
you had to move exactly at the middle of the year due to your mom’s work. they offered her double the salary at the other side of the city, who was she to say no to that? although you were going to miss your friends and the overall environment of your old home, you couldn’t just tell your mom ‘no’, either way her decisions are final.
you just got here two days ago, and to be honest, it wasn’t that bad. the worst thing so far is the fact that the nearest shopping center was 30 minutes away but you’ll live.
you didn’t except your first day of school to be so nerve-wracking. surely you’ll make some friends but who knows what people are like here. eventually, you saw the big navy blue sign with your school’s name on it. it was an averagely big school, bigger than your old one, which also meant more people.
the parking space alone was scary. it was huge yet already full even though it was still fairly early. you went around in circles around the parking lot, trying to find a vacant spot. fortunately you did at the second-to-last line.
as you tried to park, the limited space you had made it difficult to, having to back up and drive in constantly. as you reversed your car, you must have completely forgotten that you aren’t the only one there, feeling a small crash at the bumper of your car.
your eyes widened in panic. you looked back to see what you hit, and with your luck, it revealed at very nice black car, to which you’ve just hit. you tried to quickly get into your parking spot, hoping it was nothing serious, but then someone came walking up to you.
‘shit, that must be the owner’ you saw his red, rather handsome, fuming face.
you got out of your car to confront the first person interaction.
“hey look im so-“
“CANT YOU FUCKING DRIVE RIGHT? YOU HIT MY VERY EXPENSIVE CAR WITH YOUR THING, WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?”
oh he was an asshole. you almost scoffed in his face. who does he think he is.
“it was accident that’s all, it was barely a scratch calm down man.”
“IT WAS DEFINITELY A SCRATCH LOOK AT IT! JUST BECAUSE YOU KEEP YOUR CAR LOOKING ALL MISERABLE DOESNT MEAN I WILL, DO YOU EVEN HAVE A LICENSE?”
lord take me back. you were so close to just leaving him there arguing with himself. but you didn’t want to make him even angrier.
“look im sorry! i can pay for the fix up if that’s what you want, i dont know what else to do?”
the boy scoffed and rolled his eyes at your statement.
“you think i don’t have the money for it? please, it shows you’re a newbie around here.”
“i didn’t mean it like that-“
“yo heeseung!! come on bro!” another blonde boy called from afar, hopefully ending the argument y’all were having.
“ watch your back new girl.” with one last glare, he left to join his group of friends.
you rolled your eyes. shiver my fucking timbers, you thought.
you took a deep breath before grabbing your backpack and making your way into school , hoping to never see his face ever again.
>>
you thought that was going to be the end of it all. but oh boy were you wrong. soon you found out that heeseung is the captain of the football team, and pretty much the most popular boy in school. as cliche as it sounds, every girl would drop their panties if he asked them to.
people know he’s not the nicest person ( an asshole) yet they still look up to him. that’s angered you. how are all these people so dumb? just because he’s kinda good-looking? seriously?
over the course of a few weeks, you’ve managed to make some friends, your closest taehyun and Isa. although you tried to block the negativity, heeseung made it really hard. always giving you snarky comments when he saw you around, ridiculing you in front of other people. somehow always finding a way to run into you despite not having any classes together. except gym.
“ bro open your eyes, catch the damn ball!” he yelled from across from you.
you hated sports. even less could you play one, but you gotta do it for the grade.
“the ball was too high up dummy!” you retorted, rolling your eyes for maybe the 100th time in the class period.
if you hated gym before, you definitely hated it more now.
as the period ended, you decided to take a quick shower in the locker rooms since you couldn’t handle being all sweaty and gross throughout the day.
heeseung finished changing and was outside the locker room with his friends, chatting, waiting for the bell to ring. that’s when he may have accidentally eavesdropped the conversation between your two friends, he could barely the names of.
“where’s _____?” taehyun asked isa, noticing how you weren’t with her.
“she’s taking a shower right now, she told us to not wait for her.” Isa shrugged before taehyun nodded.
a beautiful idea popped in heeseung’s brain. it was too good.
he excused himself and sneakily waited by the girl’s locker room, waiting for everyone to come out. once he only heard the shower you were using running, he quietly entered the room. the bell had rang about a minute ago, so the gym was empty, only you and him. the gym teacher god knows where.
he saw his target and rapidly grabbed the pile of clothes sitting on the bench, a smirk evident in his face.
suddenly the shower stopped running, making heeseung hurry and exit the locker room.
the shower felt too good, you think you spent more time that you anticipated to. as you exited the shower tiles, you looked around for your clothes, which you remember clearly leaving them in the bench closest to the shower. you looked around the whole locker room, hoping you were wrong and placed them elsewhere. unfortunately, you couldn’t even find your damn socks.
your biggest fear has come true. you’re now naked, nothing but a towel covering you, this was more than just humiliating. you felt sad, mad, angry, embarrassed all at once. they’ve been stolen for sure, and you were more than sure on who did it.
grabbing your phone you called Isa, to see if she could help you somehow. and she indeed did. bringing you some spare clothes she had. thankfully, you always bring extra underwear since situations like these could happen. you just had to wait for isa for the clothes, yet the five minutes she took felt like five hours. unfortunately, passing period is over, meaning some students are coming in the locker room to change.
many of them just straight up stared at you. giving you weird looks as to why you were pretty much naked in the middle of the locker room, but none had the guts to ask you.
you wished the ground would just swallow you whole. lee heeseung won’t hear the end of it.
“LEE HEESEUNG!” you yelled across the field. he and his friends were siting down eating lunch outside when you spotted him after trying to find him after the stunt he just pulled.
heeseung knew it was coming, giggling with his friends as they heard you yell his name once again. “ oh she’s about to scold me now .” heeseung scoffed but still got up and went over to you.
“yes ma’am?” he said with a smile, you wish you could slap off but you’re better than that.
“YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID DO YOU KNOW HOW EMBARRASSING THAT WAS?”
“i have no idea what you’re talking about..” heeseung tried acting innocent but failed as he just burst out laughing. you groaned, how on earth is that funny?
“cute panties by the way” he continued to laugh, not sparing a glance at your mad expression on your face.
“you’re such an ass, i hate your guts.” you said leaving him alone, laughing to himself.
“yo bro i think she actually got mad this time.” his friend, jake came over.
heeseung shrugged. “she’s so sensitive, it wasn’t even that bad.”
“i can’t believe he did that…” taehyun said as you told them both what had happened. Isa knew a little bit but not who did it.
“that’s fucked up, what’s he got against you so much?”
you shrugged. “i guess because i gave his car a little scratch, but i guess he took it to heart since he hasn’t stopped bothering me since. he’s a jerk.”
“finally someone who thinks the same as me!” taehyun said making you chuckle.
“then get back at him! you know the one thing that makes him who he is is that damn football.” Isa said.
you tried to be the bigger person this whole time, not paying much mind to his little remarks or pranks he pulls, biting back a little wouldn’t hurt right?
“you know what, you’re right.”
“lee heeseung, mrs. park wants to speak to you.” mr.jung said calling heeseung.
heeseung who was barely paying attention heard his name. his frowned at this. what on earth could she want to talk about with him? either way, he went to her classroom.
he entered the empty classroom to find his coach and mrs.park, waiting for him. what the fuck? heeseung was more confused now. maybe they were going to congratulate him for the good work this semester? his coach’s face said otherwise though.
“there you are, you may be wondering why you’re here..” mrs.park started. heeseung nodded, feeling uneasy.
“a student came forward, showing how you copied word for word her whole assignment, the one i assigned a week ago. i didn’t notice it at first but it’s very clear now, you may know how cheating is unacceptable in my class, i’ve decided to fail you in this assignment, plus you’ll be serving detention this whole week..” she turned to the coach.
heeseung’s heart started beating at a rapid pace, he’s never been caught cheating, and being failed on the assignment that was a big part of his grade, it means he’s most likely failing the class now. the rules for football stated that all players should be passing all of their classes if not, they’ll be dropped….
no no no, the lee heeseung can’t be dropped. he’s the captain! the star player!
“since you’re failing this class heeseung, i think you know what’s about to happe-“
“please coach! don’t kick me out, i’m the captain! what would the team do without me? i’ll get my grade up as soon as possible im-“
“calm down calm down, i’m not going to kick you out, it’s the middle of the season, but unfortunately you won’t be playing the next three games. if your grade is not up by then, then i will drop you. understood?” his coach stated earning a sharp nod by heeseung.
he’s glad he’s still on the team but what’s the point if he can’t play? he’s going to become a joke. the captain that’s a bench warmer. how stupid.
he left the classroom enraged. he knows exactly who did this.
“bro what? what do you mean you ain’t gonna play ?” riki said in disbelief at what his captain just said.
“some snitch told mrs.park that i cheated on the last assignment and coach suspended me for the next three games, and i got detention all week!” sunghoon unknowingly chuckled. heeseung looked at him with a glare.
“what? she got you good, what did you expect hee?” sunghoon kept laughing, making some of the others also laugh silently.
heeseung had nothing to say back, he just rolled his eyes. “tch, whatever.”
nevertheless, you were overjoyed seeing heeseung slouching on the bench. you couldn’t miss this once in a lifetime scenario. obviously you were the cause for it. heeseung asks Isa almost all the time for her notes or to straight up copy her. she willingly let you rat him out after what he did to you.
he can sense how all eyes were on him, but he just tried to block everyone out a focus on the game. he had a poker face on, but deep inside he was irritated . he saw how you were smirking and laughing with your two little friends. you knew what you were doing.
>>
“ahh look who it is, the benchwarmer! “ you said chuckling as you made your way to heeseung.
after the team (barely) won, jake threw an ‘after party’ at his house. even though you don’t normally go to these parties, especially from those boys, you felt like a party would do good with your marvellous mood. something about seeing heeseung’s frowny face made feel over the moon.
“seems like cat got your tongue now huh? dont have anything to say-“
in a blink of an eye you were pulled into a room, heeseung’s fingers wrapped around your neck, pulling your face closer to his.
“what the fuck? heeseung-“
“shut the fuck up.” his hoarse voice caught you off guard. he was actually really mad.
“you think what you did it’s fucking funny? huh? almost getting me kicked out ? “ you’ve never seen him this enraged before. making you almost scared, yet….kinda turned on? no, you hate him, snap out of it! you told yourself yet the wetness in between your legs became hard to ignore.
you didn’t respond. “fuck, you’re so annoying, i can’t fucking stand you. i hate you.” he saw lowly. fuck that was hot.
you spoke before thinking. “then show me.”
not needing to tell him twice, heeseung pulled you completely in. your lips met in a kiss that was anything but gentle, a fierce and consuming clash that spoke longing and raw need.
The kiss deepened, fueled by an unspoken urgency, their mouths exploring each other with a fervor that left y’all breathless. his grip on your neck becoming tighter.
“shit im gonna show you to fucking behave.” he said before pushing you into the bed forcefully. you may have discovered a new kink of yours. watching as he undressed himself and yourself rapidly. feeling his anger through every touch he gave you.
he rubbed through your folds before inserting two fingers aggressively. your body jolted at the sudden move.
“holy shit go softer dumbass.”
“aw you think i give a fuck? suck it up and take it since you think you’re all that.” his fingers pumped faster and faster making it hard for you to answer back to his stupid remarks.
“oh my god..” you tried to pull his hand away before you cum. not wanting to see you orgasm so easily yet.
“just fuck me already heeseung, or is your dick as tiny as your brain?”
heeseung looked darkly at you. that stupid mouth of yours can’t shut up will it?
he retracted his fingers put of you and took his boxers off. wanting nothing more than to prove you wrong.
shit. your eyes went wide at what stood in front of you. saying he was big was an understatement. it was like a zipper for your mouth. how was that thing going to fit inside of you?
“can’t say anything now, can you slut?” he pulled your legs down the mattress to have you at the perfect angle to ram into you.
heeseung ran his til over your folds, teasing his way in. making you aggrevated.
“just put it in for fucks sake!”
“tell me how bad you want it.” you shook your head, no way were you going to beg. no way.
“alright then, i guess im gonna go.” he said letting go of your waist, acting as if he was going to leave.
“okay okay! please fuck me, i want it so bad, i want your big cock so bad heeseung.” heeseung moaned at your words. he didn’t wait any longer and thrusted all of him in you.
you both moaned yet it was more painful for you. you’ve never had something so big inside you before.
“fuck yeah..” he said then grabbing your neck, slightly choking you. your hands went to his biceps, trying to find something to hold on to as the speed he was thrusting in became more hostile.
“fuck me harder, like the asshole you are.” you said in between breaths. heeseung took the challenge and thrusted violently. the skin slapping and wetness of your core could probably be heard in the party outside.
“of course a whore like you would like to be fucked like this.”
before you could respond he pulled out of you earning a desperate groan from you, but then your were flipped, now on all fours and before you knew it he was back in you again. gripping your hip with one hand while he pulled your hair on the other.
“such a tight pussy, you probably fantasized about this am i right?” he said in your ear. you shook your head through your moan.
“in your dreams lee, in your fucking dreams. fuck you.”
“i’m quite literally doing that.” chuckling, he let go of your hair and instead gripped your other hip, going in deeper, nudging your cervix literally driving you to an edge.
“fuck i’m cumming.” you cried out. never has an orgasm felt like this. heeseung was on edge as well, feeling you clench around his dick did it for him.
your climax rose over you, making you fall into the pillow while heeseung kept thrusting until his own organs came over him, pulling out and releasing his white ropes all over your back.
tiredly, he laid besides you in the strangers bed, not knowing what to say now.
you turned to him, smirking. “i think i may hate you even more now.”
1K notes · View notes
stevebabey · 11 months
Text
Dustin denotes his plan as a stroke of genius. Steve calls it fucking crazy.
It is crazy — going down to the police station and giving a completely faux alibi for Eddie is crazy.
But then, Steve recalls the handcuffs on the hospital bed, keeping him strapped in even though Eddie’s hardly in a state for escape, all bandages and wires. Steve remembers the fitful sleeps he’s witnessed when visiting, remembers Eddie’s ashamed whisper of fear that one of the officers would smother him in his sleep if no one stayed with him.
Steve remembers the bats. Remembers all the other shit Eddie got dragged through.
And if Steve can lessen that blow… well, then maybe he is crazy for going through with the plan.
There’s no prepping Eddie for it, of course, considering he’s being guarded around the clock. Steve thinks it’s ridiculous considering how feeble he feels just looking at Eddie. When he— when they had gotten him out, there was a moment where he was more blood than boy. Just jagged skin held together by Steve’s hands and sheer will.
He shivers involuntarily. This is crazy, Steve thinks, shifting a bit in the chair out the front of Eddie’s room, waiting for the discussion across the hall to meet its end. It’s crazy, but he’s already done it now.
Sharp footsteps sound across the hallway and Steve’s head yanks up. His heart beats too fast and he presses his palms down into his jeans to wipe them, standing up quickly.
“So?” He asks, eyes darting between Chief Powell and Deputy Callahan.
“That’s quite the alibi you’ve provided, Mr Harrington.” There’s a cool expression on Chief Powell’s face, giving away nothing. “One that not many would be so willing to give.”
Steve swallows. Presses down the panic tied to the implications of what he’s told them— him and Eddie. Him and Eddie together.
“We’d like to question Mr Munson a little as well, get everything settled. You know,” He makes a little gesture with his hand. “Make sure your stories line up.”
A new strain of panic jolts in Steve’s stomach and he hopes it doesn’t show on his face. Glancing over his shoulder, he peers between the blinds and tries to find Eddie’s face. He can only see the hospital bed, stark white sheets and hundreds of tubes. Steve tries to remember that he anticipated this, he prepared for this.
“Now?” He asks, turning back to face the officers. He tries to appear like his uneasiness comes from concern, instead of panic. “He’s just had another dose of morphine, I’m not sure how up to questions he’ll be.”
Chief Powell narrows his eyes. Steve silently begs him to take the bait — he doesn’t want to defer the questioning, he just needs a little more wiggle room in case Eddie is slow on the uptake. He’s a performer though. Steve hopes that’ll be enough to convince them.
“Now is best.”
Steve nods, his face grave. “I understand. Just… if he’s a bit slow, give him time to find his answers. He doesn’t know that I’ve… told you.”
Steve’s hand presses down on the handle to the room and the door opens with a hiss. He enters the room, his eyes landing on the officer posted by the door first before they travel onto the bed, to Eddie.
The chair beside the bed is empty for now which means Wayne must be off getting some food. Good, Steve thinks. This will be easiest with a smaller audience to convince.
Eddie’s eyes are closed, resting as best he can, but at the new noise they peek open. The ripple of happy emotion will help their case immensely but Steve delights in the fact that that reaction is genuine. Eddie is happy to see him.
“Big boy!” He rasps as a greeting. He waves one hand up, wires sticking out of it and the handcuff on it clinks uncomfortably, and he begins a spiel. “Welcome back to my humble—”
He cuts himself off when he sees there are other visitors today besides Steve. The heart monitor jumps and Eddie’s hand drops, eyes back onto Steve in an instant.
“What’s going on?”
Steve strides to his side, his hand reaching out to curl his fingers around Eddie’s limp hand. His skin is cool to touch, fingers icy. Surprise jumps onto Eddie’s face but his fingers tighten their grip, holding his hand too. Steve sits down in the seat beside the bed and lets the real nerves of the situation make his voice tremble when he speaks.
“I— I had to tell them, Eddie. About your real alibi.”
To his credit, Eddie only lets confusion wash over his face for a moment before it turns to some mixture of anger and sadness. A furrow forms between his brows, his grip on Steve’s hand tightening, and Steve doesn’t think he’s acting at all when he says, “You didn’t.”
Huh. Maybe he’s figured it out after all, Steve thinks.
Steve nods solemnly, letting his thumb wander over the back of Eddie’s hand. He remembers what it’s like to dote on girls, on Nancy, and find it’s not nearly as hard to bring it all out for Eddie either.
“I had to,” He murmurs, reaching a hand out to brush back some of Eddie’s hair. The heart monitor spikes again and Eddie’s cheeks glow pink.
Behind them, Chief Powell clears his throat and Steve jumps, remembering himself and what he’s trying to accomplish here.
“Excuse us, Mr. Munson, we have a few questions for you.”
There’s a moment where they let their words register and Eddie takes a deep breath, squeezing Steve’s hand and giving a little nod. Chief Powell continues.
“Mr. Harrington here has come forward with a statement that would place you elsewhere than the scene of the crime at the time of Miss Cunningham’s murder. Can you recall where you were that night?”
The mention of Chrissy’s name makes Eddie flinch and Steve’s glad he’s already holding his hand so he can squeeze it gently. Eddie’s gaze drops to their intertwined hands and stares hard for a moment. Shuffling puzzle pieces into place.
Steve leans down, presses a soft kiss to his bruised knuckles, and says “Tell them the truth.”
Eddie inhales sharply, steeling his nerves and turns his attention back to the officers. “I was with Steve. We were… we were at his house.”
Chief Powell nods, scratching words down in his notepad. He hums in a way that tells Eddie to keep going.
“We were…” Eddie trails off and looks to Steve, trying to follow the story already planted. Steve nods, hoping it comes off like he’s trying to be comforting boyfriend, instead of a subtle nudge.
“…Kissing.”
Steve resists the urge to snort at the absurdity of the whole situation. This whole thing is so convoluted and it’s twisted that Eddie’s even been accused but Steve’s putting his fuckin’ reputation on the line and Eddie says they’ve been kissing?
He doesn’t even need to turn around to know some eyebrows have raised behind him.
“Kissing?” Steve hears Chief Powell repeat. “Just… kissing?”
Eddie’s attention snaps forward again and Steve can see him piece together the snappy persona, the Freak, the scary dog privileges that come with being an outsider. He straightens up a bit, shoulders squaring but Steve can feel the quake in his hand.
“I’m sorry, did you want a play by play of the whole act, Chief Powell? I can go into detail if you want, who took who’s pants off first, yanno, but I didn’t peg you for that kinda guy.”
Steve can’t miss this reaction, turning his head to watch both officers shuffle uncomfortably on the spot. Chief Powell tries to keep his power, eyes narrowing, but it’s hard to maintain when Steve dots another quick kiss across Eddie’s knuckle.
“Very well.” He seems to land on. “We’ll be back to collect a formal statement later—”
Eddie gives a faint squeak, his hand grasping Steves that much tighter.
“—but I’m happy to have the guard and cuffs removed from your room for now.”
A sigh so large escapes Eddie that his chest deflates a good couple inches and Steve feels his own shoulders relax a bit. Chief Powell steps forward, key retrieved from his belt and Steve winces seeing the ring of irritated skin around Eddie’s wrist. No doubt caused from the thrashing of night terrors.
He releases Eddie’s hand long enough for it to be freed, scooping it back up in his as soon as he can, properly this time. All fingers intertwined, palm to palm. Eddie eyes their hands again and Steve pretends to not hear the jump in the heart monitor.
The officers leave, including the one holding post, the door sliding shut with a gentle click and Steve holds himself still— unsure of how to start explaining what he had sprung on Eddie. He feels bad, dropping him in the deep end, even if it was for his own good.
“Eddie—” He starts.
“Hug me.” Eddie hisses out the corner of his mouth. When Steve doesn’t react, he says it again, fiercer - it doesn’t match the way he’s smiling so sweetly at Steve. “Hug. Me.”
Steve does as he’s told, shooting up onto his feet and hesitating only for a moment before Eddie’s arms are creeping around his waist — he leans over and tries to keep his weight off him. Eddie’s frazzled curls tickle at his cheek and Steve just burrows his face in further.
There’s a faint whisper into his ear. “They were watching still.”
Steve pulls back a bit, not to check over his shoulder, but to see Eddie’s face. He’s serious, eyes skirting the window behind them but the moment Steve pulls back, his eyes shift down and he softens.
“And now… kiss me too?” He says. His tone conveys that he knows he’s being far too cheeky. Steve’s wonders if the officers are still watching. Wonders if he’d still kiss him even if they weren’t. He casts a glance over his shoulder and is met with a empty window, the officers retreating down the hall.
He turns back to Eddie with an incredulous expression. “What? Getting you off murder charges not good enough for you?”
Eddie’s face shutters for a moment, as though every emotion to do with Steve’s sacrifice floods him at once. There’s a burst of gratitude when he doesn’t mention it — doesn’t mention everything Steve might be giving up for Eddie, everything that might crumble should the details of the case become public.
He chooses the joke again. Eddie always does.
“Yes, but remember, we’re madly in love,” Eddie sings, brows wiggling about on his face and making Steve snort. “So feel free to kiss me anytime you feel like it.”
Steve snorts. “Duly noted, Munson.”
Eddie throws his head back softly against his pillow and pretends to wail in pain. “Munson? That’s all I am to you? That’s how you treat your boyfriend?”
Steve can’t help but grin a little at the theatrics and finds himself thinking that of all the people to be stuck pretending he’s dating, at least with Eddie, it’ll be enjoyable. Well, at least interesting. It will certainly be an experience.
“You have no idea how I treat my boyfriends, baby.” Steve says, voice low, just to see if he can get Eddie’s heart monitor to jump again. It does, a steady beeping as the BPM climbs up a few numbers.
Steve can feel the blush on Eddie’s cheeks, he’s so close, and it’s so nice to see colour on his face — such a stark comparison to the paleness of- well, of older memories.
Steve grins. Despite every nerve that feels singed beneath his skin, overworked from all his anxiety — despite considering every potential backlash that faces both them outside this room, outside the hospital, Steve searches within himself.
He can’t find one single ounce of regret.
next part.
5K notes · View notes
finalgirllx · 3 months
Text
slytherin boys react to being called 'daddy'
I'm not a writer i'm just kinky | chars always aged up | unedited includes: theo, mattheo, and enzo. minors dni | pure filth | F! reader implied
Tumblr media
Theo:
Theo doesn't ask to be called daddy, and you're too shy to approach it. That is, until a late-night study session in his dorm room unsurprisingly turns into a heated makeout session between the two of you.
Theo has you perched on his desk with your legs spread so he can settle between them. His blue eyes pierce yours, and the lust in his expression is unmistakable.
With one of his hands caressing your cheek, the other moves lower to ghost over your thighs, searching for the go-ahead from you to continue. This growing pit in your stomach to ask a certain question finally boils to the surface.
"Can I call you daddy?" you blurt out, almost immediately regretting the words as they leave your lips.
Theo's stare doesn't waver as his fingers then move to press against the fabric of your panties over your folds.
"Just the thought of calling me that leaves you so fucking wet for me, doesn't it, principessa? Of course you can. now be good for daddy, and let me feel that perfect fucking pussy."
Mattheo:
This man is super upfront about wanting to be called daddy. In fact, he would refer to himself as 'daddy' first to test the waters, hoping to see if you respond well. A few times, he tries off-handedly to find out, and you appear a little hesitant.
Then, one fateful evening, after too much teasing on your end, you find yourself getting railed into his mattress. Mattheo holds onto your waist with a bruising grip as he pounds into you at a merciless pace, sending a sharp smack to your ass as he asks, "You like how daddy fucks you, huh? You like being daddy's little fucktoy?"
"Yes, daddy! please fuck me," you babble obediently in response. In your dumbed-out, cock drunk state, calling him daddy becomes the hottest thing you've ever said. Mattheo, of course, agrees, letting out a low growl and fucking you even faster as you continue to scream it.
"Atta girl, that's what I am, your fucking daddy," Mattheo praises you, showering you with more praises and degradations until finally filling you until you're leaking with his cum.
Enzo:
Enzo had rudely disrupted a tutoring session you were taking from another male student when he had judged that the boy was 'too close for comfort.' Feeling exasperated by his possessive side, you chew him out, causing him to bring you to the nearest broom closet and order you to your knees to get facefucked. You watched him unbuckle his pants eagerly, having no complaints about his chosen method to punish the brat out of you.
Enzo uses a makeshift ponytail of your hair to bob your head up and down the entire length of his cock for some time. He eventually pulls you away in order to take in the beautiful sight of your wet eyes as you stare up at him, waiting for more commands.
"You look so fucking beautiful on your knees for me, you know that? So damn perfect. And you're fucking mine, remember that?"
"Yes, daddy, I'm yours."
It just slipped out. Neither of you had even approached the subject, though it had been stirring in your subconscious for some time, which explains why it came out when you were desperate to please him.
Enzo's eyes flashed with surprise for a mere second before he let out a guttural moan and brought your lips back to his cock to continue thrusting into your mouth.
"You want me to be your daddy, huh? Fuck, doll, that's so fucking hot," he groaned, clearly closer to his orgasm than before you had said that magic word.
"Be good for your daddy now and keep throating me like the pretty slut you are."
2K notes · View notes
scuderiahoney · 5 months
Text
Always Walk Me Home
Max Verstappen x Reader // Strawberry Wine Pt I
Tumblr media
Strawberry Wine Series
Masterlist
Summary: You and Max are keeping things casual. Sooo casual. You can be casual. Right?
Word Count: 4.3k
a/n: Heeeeere we go, his number is in my bio for a reason, it’s my other favorite boy! This one is heavily inspired by some of the prompts on this list. anyways enjoy!
Warnings: alcohol/mild intoxication, mild sexual references, google translated Dutch
Things with Max are… brand new. Everything is still fresh. Everything he does gives you butterflies, makes your heart skip a beat. It’s the honeymoon phase, as everyone calls it.
It’s so brand new that nobody knows. Nothing is… official, yet. You’ve just been on a few dates, had a few movie nights. You’ve stayed at his place a couple times, waking up with his arm around your waist and Jimmy and Sassy curled up next to you. It’s casual. You’re keeping things casual. Max seems content to feel things out, to keep seeing you without labeling it. You’re trying so hard to be casual about it that it’s almost embarrassing.
You feel like everyone sees straight through you. On top of spending time alone together, you and Max are friends, so you see each other at group outings and clubs and dinners with your other friends. Max acts the same there as he always has- kind, courteous, and friendly. You won’t lie, sometimes you wish he’d hold your hand or pull your chair out for you or something, anything to show you that you’re not the only one feeling less than casual. But you’re scared of scaring him away, so you keep your mouth shut.
…..
You’re out to dinner with friends, somehow ending up sitting next to him. It’s nice, really nice. You can smell his cologne, can feel the warmth radiating off of him at the packed table. You have to fight the urge to nudge his foot with yours, to press your knee against his. That wouldn’t be very casual of you. You can do this, you can be normal.
He’s saying something to the person next to him, laughing and leaning towards them. You want to be the reason he’s laughing, want to be in on the jokes. You keep your mouth shut and look at the menu instead.
“What are you going to get?” Max asks.
He’s suddenly in your space. He’s leaning close, his shoulder brushing against yours. Be normal. You shrug, sliding your finger down the menu.
“Probably the shrimp scampi,” you say, pointing at the item.
Max nods. “You love seafood.”
You blink, breath caught in your chest. He’s right, but you didn’t know he knew that. Let alone for him to say it as fact. It’s not like he’s whispering either- someone else could hear. It’s silly, because it’s such a small thing, but you’re overanalyzing everything about it.
“I do,” you agree, turning and smiling at him.
“I remember things,” he says, a soft smile on his face, and now your face is growing hot.
Someone draws his attention away, and you look back to the menu. You nearly yelp in shock when something brushes your knee, but- it’s Max, you realize with a start, his hand searching for something. You hold your breath. His fingers find yours, and he interlaces your hands, palm to palm. He keeps them resting on your leg.
You try to take even breaths. He’s holding your hand in public, with your friends right next to you. Sure, it’s under the table, but this is the most you’ve gotten from him in a setting like this. He’s held your hand on dates, done much more in the privacy of his home, but here it feels overwhelming. His thumb brushes over the back of your hand, and you resist the urge to hold on so tightly to him that he can’t let go.
Eventually the food comes, and you both let go so you can eat. But it was nice while it lasted.
…..
Max’s apartment is spacious and cozy, despite the fact that he’s gone from it so often. There’s a warmth here, an aura that just screams Max. His cats roam freely, though while you’re there they have a tendency to follow you around.
“They are traitors,” Max accuses as Jimmy and Sassy weave around your ankles in the kitchen.
“Maybe I’m just better than you,” you say.
“Oh, you are,” he says, sending up a swirl of butterflies in your stomach. “But I feed them. So they are traitors.”
You laugh, leaning down to pet the cats. They nudge their heads against your hands and legs, paw at your socks, and when you walk into the living room, they follow after. Max just watches with disappointment.
By the time he joins you in the living room, drinks in hand, both of them are curled up in your lap. He lets out a huff and sets the drinks on the table. Then he’s nudging at the cats, and you cry out when he pushes them both off your lap.
“Max!” You say, appalled.
He laughs, lays down on the couch, and promptly placed his head exactly where the two cats had been. He stares up at you with a wide grin, eyes squeezed nearly shut.
“Hi,” he says.
“Hi,” you answer.
He reaches for one of your hands. He squeezes your fingers softly before bringing your hand up to his hair. You laugh and take the hint, start running your fingers through the blonde strands. He lets his eyes fall shut. Then you watch as he brings his hand up, purses his lips, and points at them.
You take that hint too, lean over and plant a kiss on his lips. When you try to pull away, he wraps a hand around the back of your neck and keeps you there. He deepens the kiss, fingers slipping into the hair at the nape of your neck to hold you there. It’s not the best angle, but it’s nice, always nice to kiss him.
He finally lets you go and collapses back into your lap, a satisfied smile on his reddened lips.
…..
“I can’t open it!” You squeak. “What the fuck, how do they make it look so easy?”
You’re holding a bottle of champagne in your friend’s apartment, trying to get the cork out. It doesn’t help that you’re scared- one too many horror stories about someone getting a cork to the eye, or breaking a window. You huff and try again, gently. No use.
“Lando slams it on the ground,” your friend suggests, her eyebrows raised.
“Yeah, and he also shattered one of Max’s trophies,” you say. “So maybe not the best example.”
You hear familiar laughter, then, and you drop one hand to your side, still holding the bottle in front of you with the other. Max makes his way through the kitchen, a smile on his lips that paints his whole face. You hold it out to him, pouting.
“No, no,” he says. “I’ll show you.”
He wraps his hand around yours, around the bottle. You can’t lie, your mind goes somewhere else for a second, but you tamp those thoughts down and try to focus.
“See, you put this hand on the cork,” he instructs, “and this hand on the bottom.”
His hands are warm over yours. Your face feels hot. Does he feel the sparks when his skin touches yours, too? Or is this normal for him? Is it just a friend helping another friend? You wish you knew, wish he’d say something to quell your worries and calm your racing heart.
“-and then you twist, like this,” he demonstrates.
The bottle hisses, and you jump, but there’s no dramatic pop, no shooting of the cork. You just pull it out, and you stare at the bottle with wide eyes. Oh. That was-
“Easy, right?” He says. “You are already a pro.”
You laugh, shake your head, and hold out the bottle to your friends, standing there with their empty glasses. You want to study their faces, ask them if they noticed anything. You want to ask if they saw the sparks, too. Someone takes the bottle, and your hands fall to your side, the cork still between your fingers.
Your knuckles brush against something- when you look, it’s Max’s hand. He’s still standing there, watching as everyone passes the bottle around. You swallow tightly, bump your hand into his. Deliberately. You want to look up at his face, want to gauge his reaction, but you resist the urge.
Max reaches his pinky out and hooks it with yours. For just a moment, standing in the kitchen, surrounded by your friends, you’re linked. The sparks run from his finger, up your wrist and arm and straight to your heart. Your chest fizzes like the champagne, bubbly and overflowing.
…..
You weren’t even planning on seeing Max tonight. It’s a girls night, one that’s been suggested over and over, each of you being too busy to make it happen until tonight. You’re at your favorite bar, bass thudding in your chest, your friends all around you.
And then, there’s a tingling feeling in your spine. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Someone is watching you. You turn over your shoulder and lock eyes with Max.
He’s leaning against the wall, one ankle crossed over the other. He has a black t-shirt on that’s always been one of your favorites- it hugs his upper arms and his chest so perfectly. He’s watching you, a soft smirk on his lips, a drink in his hand. Everyone is moving around you, but you’re stuck on him.
You smile, wave, and force yourself to turn back to your friends. You like him, you want to spend time with him, but you’ve been neglecting your friendships because of it. Your friends have been teasing you all night about how you’ve been too busy, how you keep checking your phone, how there must be a guy. You’ve denied it at every turn. You can’t leave them now. Ditching your friends for the guy who isn’t even your boyfriend would be the opposite of casual. You force yourself not to look at him, but you swear you can still feel him staring.
Ten minutes later, a bartender appears with a tray of shots and lime wedges. “For you,” she says, pointing at you, and your friends squeal in excitement. She points behind you, then. “From him.”
You turn over your shoulder again. Max is watching, and waving this time. You laugh and wave back, and your friends all do the same. He’s far away, too far to make it in time as you each grab a shot and throw them back in unison. You put the lime between your lips and turn to look at him again, raising your brows. He laughs, eyes lit up so bright you can see the blue even across the room, you swear. Then he juts his chin in the direction of the hallway when nobody else is looking. A message just for you.
You find him out there ten minutes later, trying not to make it obvious and taking the time to come up with an excuse- you fake a phone call. The hall is empty when you walk out, and you wonder if he’s given up on you- you know you saw him walk out. Then he pops his head out from around a corner and waves you over frantically.
He’s leaning against the wall, the same way he was in the club. You stand against the wall on the other side of the hallway and stare at him.
“I’m not leaving right now,” you say. “I promised I’d stay out late.”
“I know,” he says. “Just wanted to see you.”
You tilt your head. “Yeah? Seeing me across the bar wasn’t enough?”
The tequila running in your veins has you feeling braver than usual. It doesn’t seem to scare Max. He just grins wider, brow quirked.
“No, it wasn’t,” he says. “You’re pretty from far away, but even prettier up close.”
Your face feels hot. He pushes off from the wall, leans towards you. He could box you in if he wanted, could pin you right there, but he doesn’t. Instead, he takes your hand in his and pulls you away from the wall, too. The kiss he sweeps you into is sweet. He wraps his arm around you, and you sling yours around the back of his neck. One of his hands cradles the side of your face as he deepens the kiss. Out of all of it, you’re much more focused on the feeling of his thumb on your cheek than the feeling of his lips on yours. It’s strangely intimate, strangely soft, the way he holds you as he kisses you in the hallway of a bar. The way his nose nudges against your cheek, the way he pulls you closer and closer like he can’t get enough.
He pulls away, leaves you gasping for air.
“You taste like lime,” he says.
You nod, dumbfounded.
“You should go back to your friends,” he suggests, kissing your temple. “If I keep kissing you I won’t want to let you go.”
You breathe out a laugh and slap his shoulder. “If you keep staring at me in the club I won’t be able to focus on anything else.”
He laughs. “I know,” he says. “That’s what makes it fun. Besides, you’re fun to watch.”
…..
Three days later, Max is holding your purse. He’d taken it from you when you were all standing in the lobby of the restaurant and your friend dragged you into the bathroom. He’d promised to keep it safe. Now you’re back, your friends are gathering their things and saying goodbyes, getting ready to go home. You’re watching him.
The little black bag looks even smaller in his hands. His fingers are wrapped around the clutch, thumb rubbing back and forth across one of the stitches the same way it had on your skin the night before. He’s talking to someone else, but when there’s a break in the conversation, you nudge him.
“I can take that back,” you say, holding your hand out.
He tilts his head, blinks softly. “That’s okay. I’ll carry it.”
You’re sure you’re staring at him like a deer in the headlights. “Okay, but I’m leaving, so I need my purse.”
He nods. “I thought maybe I could walk you home. If you wanted.”
You nod in response, feeling a bit dumbfounded. The two of you exit the restaurant, waving goodbye to your friends. He takes your hand the second you’re outside, your purse still in his other one. Your fingers knit together like second nature, now. You could predict the pattern of the brush of his thumb against your skin like clockwork.
Your apartment isn’t far, but you find yourself walking slow on purpose, prolonging the moment. You pass people on the street and you know that to them, the two of you look like a real, actual couple. It’s nice to pretend. You lean into his shoulder, and he stumbles and laughs and keeps both of you upright. The two of you talk the whole way there, about everything and nothing and all the stuff in between.
When you reach the apartment building, he finally holds your purse out to you. You open the clutch, digging through it to find your keys and the front door access card. He watches in amusement as your fingers fumble through the bag.
“D’you wanna come up?” You ask. “I have some of that wine you like.”
You pull the card triumphantly from your bag. You look up at him, and he’s smiling softly, something sparkling in his eyes that makes your breath hitch. Makes the champagne bubble in your chest all over again.
“That’s okay,” he says, softly. “I’ve got to get back to the cats. But can I take you to breakfast tomorrow?”
You blink, card still pinched between your fingers. “Yeah, sure.”
He tilts his head at you. “Maybe brunch. You are going to need sleep. How about you text me when you wake up and we’ll go from there?”
You nod. He nods back. Then he reaches up, cups the side of your face in his hand. He’s so gentle about it, more so than he normally is. When he presses his lips to yours, he tastes like gin and he kisses like… like he cares for you. Like this isn’t leading somewhere else, like he’s not going to pull you into his lap and start trailing kisses down your neck. He kisses you just to kiss you, just to say goodnight.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says when he pulls away. “Goodnight, liefje.”
You smile up at him. “Goodnight, Max.”
He smiles back. Then he leans forward and presses his lips to your forehead softly. You swear you’re melting into the sidewalk. You must be a puddle under his feet. You want to press yourself into his chest, tell him to wrap his arms around you, ask him to never let you go.
But you’re trying so hard to be so good at being casual, so you kiss his cheek, turn around, and walk inside. You take the elevator up, leaning against the wall and covering your giddy smile with your hand. When you get into your apartment, kick off your heels, and drop your bag on the counter, your phone buzzes. It’s a call. You look at the screen and see Max’s face.
“Hello?” You answer.
“Did you get in alright?” He asks.
Your heart squeezes fiercely in your chest. He sounds so soft, asking it. You walk over to the window, peel back the curtains, hoping you’re right about what you think you’ll see. There he is, still standing in front of the entrance, phone to his ear. He’s staring up at your window. When he sees you, he waves.
“Yeah,” you say. “You didn’t have to wait, you know.”
But I’m so glad you did.
“Yes I did,” he says, voice soft and scratchy from the night out. “Had to make sure you were safe.”
“Okay,” you breathe. “Let me know when you get home, okay?”
“I will,” he says. You watch as he waves again, smiling up at you. “Goodnight.”
…..
He picks you up for brunch the next day. By the time you’re in his car, it’s nearly 10:30. He drives with his hand on your knee, like always, fingers dancing across your exposed skin below the hem of your sundress. You like watching him drive, like being here with him. He pulls up to the restaurant and runs around to open your door for you, leaving you laughing. He hands the keys to the valet. Then he slips his arm around your waist and leads you inside.
You’ve been on dates with him, but none this fancy, none where you feel a little out of your element. Max seems comfortable, though- it’s moments like these where you’re reminded he’s not just your-friend-Max. He’s F1-world-champion-Max-Verstappen. Of course he can get a reservation here with such short notice. They’re honored to have him here.
A waiter leads you to a booth in the back. The restaurant is bright and airy, fresh flowers on every table. Max asks for a pitcher of water and orange juice before the waiter leaves. He pulls your chair out for you, pushes it in when you sit down. Your palms are sweating, heart beating rapidly. It’s just- this is the closest you’ve come to feeling like you’re actually dating him. Suddenly, it’s terrifying.
You ask him what’s good on the menu. He points out his favorites- the French toast, the eggs Benedict, the omelettes. He tells you he’s going to order a fruit sampler for the two of you to share, and you smile softly.
“They always have the best strawberries,” he tells you, eyes lit up. “You love strawberries.”
“I do,” you tell him, warmth filling your cheeks. “You do too.”
You’d bonded over that, when you first became friends. A strawberry wine that nobody else wanted to drink. Too sweet. You’d split the bottle with Max and went to bed with a sugar rush, your lips still tasting like strawberry. Ever since, for every special occasion, the two of you have gifted each other that same strawberry wine. It’s a running joke, among your friends- you’ll open the bottle, ask if anyone wants a glass. They’ll ignore you, but Max will come running.
He opens his mouth to say something, but over his shoulder, you spot something that makes your blood run cold.
“Shit,” you mutter.
He looks at you in concern. “What is it?”
“Nothing, just-“ you sigh. “Your coworker is here.”
Charles Leclerc has just walked in the door, a girl on his arm. The waiter is pointing in your general direction, towards an open table a little ways away. There goes your whole morning. He’s going to want to leave now.
Max turns to look, brows raised. “Oh. At least it’s one I like.”
You can’t help the laugh. “Should we go?”
Max turns back to you, perplexed. “What, get up to say hi? I don’t like him that much. He’ll come over here when he sees us.”
Us. You wish he meant it how you want him to.
“No, like-“ you sigh, gaze flickering down to the table. “You don’t want people to know, so-“
“What?” He asks, wide eyed. “What do you mean, I don’t want-“
“You didn’t want to tell anyone,” you say, quietly. You can’t look at him. “We haven’t even really talked about this, and… I figured you…”
You trail off, because you can feel him staring at you. He reaches over and tucks his finger under your chin. He tilts your face upwards towards his. His gaze is soft, a small smile on his face.
“Schatje, you have to be joking,” he says, and you stare back at him. “Of course I want to tell people. I have wanted to tell the whole world since I kissed you the first time.”
You blink. “But you- you didn’t want to put a label on it. You never…”
“We never talked about it,” he says. “I was giving you time. I’m a lot. Dating me is a lot. You are… I was following your lead.”
“Oh my god,” you blurt out, a giddy feeling in your chest. “Oh my god, I’m so dumb.”
The two of you just stare at each other for a moment. His eyes are bright and sparkling, his smile spreading across his whole face. You’re so done being casual.
Charles appears at the end of your table seconds later, smiling at the two of you. “Max, hi, good to see you. And I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve met,” he adds, turning to you.
“Charles, this is my girlfriend,” Max says, reaching across the table to take your hand.
When you greet Charles, you can’t wipe the giddy grin from your face. It stays there the whole rest of the day- through breakfast, through a walk through a park, through a late lunch at Max’s with the cats winding around your ankles. Every time it starts to fade you think of Max, bright blue eyes, his finger under your chin. You fall asleep still smiling. You’re pretty sure it’ll be there when you wake up.
…..
The next time you go out with your friends, Max carries your bag the whole night. He also keeps his hand on the small of your back nearly constantly. He orders and pays for all of your drinks, includes you in all the conversations, and brushes his lips against your temple every time there’s a lull in the talking.
Nobody questions it. None of your friends even bat an eye. You find out why when you end up in the bathroom with the girls, a tradition as old as time itself.
It turns out they all already knew.
“Max told us all the day after he kissed you the first time,” someone tells you. “And then he told us we all had to act like nothing was different, because he didn’t want to scare you off.”
You collapse into a fit of laughter, bracing yourself against the sink. All this time, you were worried about it, and he’d told everyone right away. You’d thought you were the one struggling to be casual. God, you’d have saved yourself so much trouble if you’d only asked. If you’d only told him straightforward what you wanted. If you’d only been up front.
You’re giddy with it, then. You can feel it coursing through your veins and buzzing in your fingertips. You won’t call it love yet, at least not out loud. It’s too soon, right? It can’t be love. But it’s something, and now you want him next to you. You want his lips on yours again. You’re missing him even though he’s just through the door, waiting for you, your bag in his hand.
When you return to his side, you lean up to press a kiss to his cheek. You watch his smile grow and his cheeks turn red. You place your hand on his shoulder and put your lips against his ear.
“You should take me home,” you tell him.
His cheeks get even redder, and he turns to you. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you say with a nod. “You’ll walk me home, right?”
“Always,” he agrees.
He takes your hand, squeezes lightly. You feel like you’re glowing brighter than the neon lights above your head.
…..
You slip up over your morning cup of coffee three days later. The cats are in your lap. There’s the perfect amount of cream and sugar in the mug, he’s made it exactly right. The sun is shining through the windows, bouncing off his hair and painting his skin in golden light. You weren’t going to say it out loud, you really weren’t, but it slips past your lips anyways.
“I love you,” you say.
Max laughs, takes the mug from your hands, and kisses you.
Then he says it right back.
read the prequel/ sequel, Someone Sane
okay, now I’ve got my three favorite boys in the masterlist! thanks for reading! come say hi, or check out more of my writing here. drop an ask or a dm to be added to the tag list!
taglist: @4-mula1
2K notes · View notes
secretlocket · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
THINKING ABOUT BEST FRIEND!LEON.
best friend!leon who’s been your best friend for as long as you could remember. he’s been at every birthday party and almost every family cookout.
best friend!leon who your mom secretly hopes you end up marrying.
best friend!leon who’s always been a bit of a goody two shoes. perfectly grades, clean record. every time you’d tease him about him about it he’d crossed his arms and frown.
best friend!leon who your grandma and aunties are very much fond of.
best friend!leon who always shares his things with you—his airpods, fries, hoodies—you name it.
best friend!leon who your father approves of.
best friend!leon who has a dislike for trouble and shenanigans, always seems to be pulled into your little mischievous ‘adventures’.
best friend!leon who seems to be…caught up in one of those ‘adventures’ as of right now.
“if you’re gonna move, move.” his voice is slightly muffled because his hands are on his face, hiding the fact that his eyes are damn near rolling into the back of his skull.
“what was that? i can’t hear you, lee.”
you hum happily as you lean forward and move them away from his face, revealing those gorgeous baby blues of his. his lips are slightly red and puffy from the intense makeout session you both had earlier prior to…this.
you look at him, flashing the sweetest most innocent smile as if you aren’t straddling his lap, all of his inches currently buried deep in you—taking a mental note of how flustered he is, purposely avoiding eye contact, skin semi clammy, chest heaving up and down…the poor boy is a wreck.
and you’re enjoying every second of it.
“i said,” he speaks slowly, voice a little raspy. “if you’re gonna move, move. you’re killing me here, sweetheart.”
sweetheart. he’s been calling you that for the longest of time-but every time he does, butterflies attack your stomach. it just…does something to you.
his eyes are back on you now, practically begging and pleading you to do something-anything.
you tilt your head and give him a fake confused look causing him to let out an annoyed scoff.
“seriously, just move already! what’s the whole point in even doing this, this is literally a torture tactic-why are you even doing this to me? it’s not fair and y—ahhhh—fuck!”
“you talk too much.” you roll your eyes as roll your hips, yours rocking into his as you perform a slow and steady circular motion and rhythm. your gaze falls upon leon, who’s eyes are squeezed shut as he hungrily grips the fat of your hips as you move. you place a teasing kiss on his cheek, getting a whiff of his cologne as you do; something icy and cool, mixed with the scent of his laundry detergent. a crisp clean smell that silently drove you crazy.
“keep going, please d-don’t stop! so good, sweetheart. sooo good.” whiny babbles and fucked out praises leave his wet lips as you continue to move against him but you can’t help but to suddenly get a little…sadistic idea.
your hips come to sudden halt earning an agitated groan from the boy in front of you. his eyes fly open, dark brows knitting together in annoyance. “you stopped. again. why?”
“seems like you were having a little too much fun,” you offer a simple shrug. “wanted to tease you a little more before i get you there.”
leon’s jaw clenches and you laugh—but it’s cut short when you suddenly feel his warm strong hand grab ahold of your waist and starts bouncing you up and down him.
“ah—leon!”
“you teased me enough,” he grunts keeping his eyes on you as you hold on to his shoulders, squeals and whines escaping your lips. “now it’s my fucking turn, sweetheart.”
7K notes · View notes