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slttygeto · 10 months

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SLOWLY LOVING YOU — SUGURU GETO.

જ⁀➴ synopsis: Before Yaga introduces you to the third years, Suguru is a little unsure of you joining them. And then he meets you, and suddenly his heart doesn’t know how to slow down.

જ⁀➴ content warning: fem!reader, reader gets a few cuts and faints, swearing and a lot of fluff.

જ⁀➴ word count: 4,2k

જ⁀➴ note: thank you to the sweet @duhsies for commissioning me! I had so much fun writing it<3!!

“Yaga says there’s a newcomer,” Satoru had a habit of speaking with a mouthful, which Suguru really hated. A hand is smacking the back of the white haired’s head who hisses at the contact before glaring at his best friend.

“Hey!” He protests, his sunglasses resting at the tip of his nose.

“Swallow your food.” Suguru presses, taking a sip from his drink. He had heard long ago from Yaga about this newcomer, and wasn’t really sure how to feel about it. It’s not that he wasn’t good with new people (he wasn’t), but he felt like it was a little odd to transfer someone and have them be with him, Shoko and Gojo right away. They had to have a good cursed technique, a great control of their cursed energy, otherwise they’d just get in the way of everything and—ouf, this was too negative.

Who was he to judge? Sure, a part of him was skeptical, but he was trying to awaken the other side that usually reassures him that everything will turn out just fine.

“I wonder if it’s guy or a girl,” Satoru speaks again, and this time (surprisingly) he swallows his food before opening his mouth. Suguru shrugs at his best friend, grabbing a fry from his tray of food.

“It won’t really change much, I just hope they’re good at what they do,”

“Oh Suguruuu,” Gojo whines at his friend’s negativity, pushing him but not too hard. “Don’t be such a kill joy, I’m pretty sure that they’re good. Otherwise, Yaga wouldn’t look so excited.”

“Why are you the one telling me to be nice?” The black haired male raises an eyebrow, carefully picking out a fry that didn’t have ketchup on it.

“You rubbed off on me,” Satoru wiggles his eyebrows to which Suguru rolls his eyes at.

“Don’t.” Suguru presses, but it’s too late to stop his friend’s funny joke.

“That’s a little fruity—“

“Finish your food.”

When they head back to the school grounds after having lunch, they’re pleasantly surprised when they find Yaga, Shoko and an unknown girl standing near one of the school buildings. From the looks of it, you weren’t that nervous. Sure, you were checking out your surroundings as the school was new, but nothing about your demeanor suggested that you were anxious. Not even a little.

Suguru raises his eyebrows at this, and although he tries not to stare too hard at you, Gojo is quick to notice it and nudges him with an elbow.

“Hey, think that’s the new girl?”

“I mean, it looks like it,” Suguru mumbles a response and stops walking when Yaga starts to approach them.

“You finally decided to show up,” Oh, an ass-whooping is on the way.

“The mission took us way too long,” it’s Satoru who tries his luck as his usual, and the grin on his face draws a similar one on Suguru’s lips.

“Yeah, but we managed to get it done with. That’s all what matters,” if it wasn’t for Satoru’s love to piss off their teacher, Suguru is sure that he wouldn’t bother. But it’s fun, and it gives the students something to laugh about.

You watch the scene unfold before you and you raise your eyebrows at how easy going the pair standing in front of you was. Did they not fear Yaga? You had been introduced to the man a couple of weeks ago before you were transferred to the school, and despite the comforting vibe the man had, you still felt like you owed him some sort of respect.

Something the two guys bickering with their teacher seemed to lack. Or maybe it was just an act.

Yaga gives the two guys a comical smack to the back of their heads and you hear Shoko snicker next to you. You fight back a smile of your own, until you feel Shoko pat your back, almost in reassurance.

“You can laugh, they won’t be offended.” You relax at this, and before you could even say anything in response, Yaga is clearing his throat to get your attention.

“You can introduce yourself,” oh, he’s talking to me. You’re suddenly aware of the three pairs of eyes fixated on you, and you fidget nervously.

“Hello, my name is (name) and I’m—“

“That’s boring!” The white haired male cuts you off, and your eye twitches. Well, that’s offensive. Before you could even glare at him, he’s approaching you while taking off his sunglasses and your heart stills at the sight. Those eyes felt like they were staring into your soul.

“Show us your technique, that’s a much more interesting way to introduce yourself,” your body relaxes at this, and you can see Yaga signaling you to go along with what your classmate was saying.

“Oh, okay then,”

Suguru’s eyes are cat-like as they fixate on you. You get in position to show off your technique and suddenly, everything goes quiet. He could feel the energy shift when you stepped away from them, and so he was anticipating a big show. Perhaps, you were a show-off like Gojo.

Suddenly, the air feels a little different—why is it wet? He touches his skin to make sure he wasn’t imagining things, and before he could even process things, fog had engulfed him entirely. This was new.

You were nowhere to be seen, maybe that was your technique—a little weak, Suguru thought. But it felt like you read his mind because right in front of him was standing a carbon copy of himself. A clone.

“What the—“ The clone stands still as Suguru gets into a fighting position, ready to unleash a weak curse at it, but the clone is quick to do the same and releases a different curse—the clone knew about his technique?

Before things could escalate further, he heard a snap of fingers from behind him and his eyes widen when the fog and the clone both disappear at once. You were standing right behind him. Being so focused on the fact that what was standing in front of Suguru was a literal doppelganger, he failed to notice you sneak up behind him. He assumed that you snapping your fingers was to deactivate your technique, but it was also a realization that you made him so unaware of his surroundings—and that was the beauty of your technique.

Everyone looks amused by Suguru’s confused expression. He was staring you right in the eye, and your confidence and the relaxed expression painting your face would normally sned shivers down anyone’s spine. It was awkwardly silent for a few moments before Gojo decides to break the silence.

“That was rather impressive, wasn’t it?” Shoko agrees with her classmate, clapping almost ceremoniously. Yaga steps away from the two to approach you and Suguru who was still staring at you, this time with less resentfulness. Sure, he hated having someone sneak up behind him. And the fact that you had chosen him out of the three felt a little strange, but he tried not to overthink it.

Maybe it’s because I looked like a bitch.

He immediately brushes off the thought when you flash him an unapologetic smile, the confidence you gave off a few moments ago replaced with something he couldn’t quite decipher—were you getting shy?

His lips part almost in shock at the way your cheeks are slightly pink, and you take two steps back and away from him before apologizing out loud.

“Sorry, I just thought you looked a little bored.”

Oh, not anymore.

“That to you, is a Grade 1 sorcerer.” Yaga announces very proudly. Usually, Grade S sorcerers would be the one to be introduced like this—with so much pleasure and honor. But Yaga didn’t care about that. He saw potential in you and embraced it like you were his top student.

Geto couldn’t shake off the giddy feeling in his chest. He watched as Satoru came over to your side and ruffles your hair, promising that you were going to have a good time at school because he was there. And you played along, the playful expression you wore on your face not matching the blush on your cheeks—you were just easily flustered having this much attention on you.

“What do you say, Suguru?” He snaps out of his thoughts at the mention of his name, and he finds his best friend staring at him with those eyes. He caught him looking at you, didn’t he?

“Sorry, I zoned out.” It wasn’t entirely a lie, but he wasn’t going to say that you seemed so interesting that he found himself so lost in his thoughts. He didn’t like this, he didn’t like how you seemed so unaware of the fact that you were breaking down his walls one by one, and all of this happening in less than an hour of meeting you? Unbelievable.

“I said, we are all gonna get along so well, right?” Glancing at you, he notices how you seem to shift your attention back to him the moment his name is mentioned. You’re almost eager to find out what he has to say next, sparkly eyes and a tight lipped smile making you look so fucking adorable—oh fuck, no.

“Yeah, we will.”

He was officially and totally fucked.

It’s been a few months since you officially transferred to Jujutsu high, and things were going great. You felt like you fit in so perfectly, you were a bit nervous that you would be a burden since the trio seemed to have a dynamic of their own, being the one to ruin the dynamic—or worse, feel left out would just be the highlight of your school year. But they were so nice. Each in their own way.

While Gojo felt like a troublesome sibling with his many pranks and jokes, Shoko truly felt like a close friend. You could crack jokes with her, share food and even watch movies during the weekend. The friendship you shared with both seemed very genuine and you were so grateful for that.

And then there was Geto.

Suguru Geto, tall and handsome, with long dark luscious hair and cat-like eyes. A smile that seemed precious since it appeared way less than you would want. A voice that felt like he was purring in your ear and a personality that had your heart stuttering in your chest.

He had caught your eye the moment you saw him walk on the school grounds. You tried not to make your tiny crush on the man obvious right away, but it felt like you blew your cover when you chose him as your target when asked to show off your technique.

Things weren’t exactly bad between you and the tall male, but they weren’t that good either. There an awkwardness that always lingered when you were both left alone, your heart would beat so fast and so incessantly when you felt his eyes on you before he places a piece of his chocolate on your desk.

“Was gonna share it with Satoru, but he pissed me off today.” You’re almost shocked that he’s even addressing you when neither Shoko nor Satoru were in the classroom.

“Are you sure? He does like sweets,” you still grab the sweet treat and place it in your mouth, to which he chuckles at.

“Well, you ate it immediately. Seems like you don’t care.”

“Well, he did piss me off too today,” you’re grinning, playing with the wrap of the chocolate. Suguru raises his eyebrows at your remark and continues to tease you.

“Was it another joke about how bad his clone was? I mean he’s not entirely wrong—“

“Stooop,” you groan out, resting your head on your desk in defeat. You were too embarrassed about the recent incident, and no one seemed to want to let go of it.

Rather than being embarrassed that his clone was that ugly, Gojo’s sudden and quick realization that your clones had an immediate link to your photographic memory lit up a bulb at the top of his head. And so the teasing began.

How come Suguru’s was so accurate on day one!

Do you have something to share with the class?

It was horrible, and you remember how Yaga had to smack the white haired male in the back of his head to get him to stop. He caught onto your little crush on Suguru faster than you had anticipated, but you were glad that when asked what he was teasing you about, Satoru chose to save you the embarrassment and just say that his clone was so ugly, you needed more practice.

“I just need more practice,” you say, a little muffled from having your face in your arm. Suguru stares at you for a few moments from his seat, then he suddenly gets up and walks towards you. He crouches down in front of your desk and you quickly raise your head in question.

“Hm?”

“You don’t hate me, right?” He could’ve asked that question from his desk, he knows that. But it would’ve seemed a little cowardly cause he knows he would avoid looking you in the eyes. But eye contact was important when communicating things, and right now was one of the few moments where Suguru felt like he was going to pee his pants waiting for an answer.

“Hate you?”

“I’m aware that hate is a big word—it’s a strong feeling too, but I just need to know if you feel that way about me.” Suguru was supposed to feel stupid, maybe a little insane for asking you something like this. But he noticed how things always got quiet when it was just you two alone. It didn’t necessarily mean you hated him, but a part of him wanted to make sure you didn’t resent him for mysterious reasons.

“I don’t hate you,” you pause your words, and Suguru watches as your face slightly reddens as you avoid his eyes. “Uh, just nervous.”

Now, why did I say that? It’s one thing to know that he makes you feel this way, but it’s another when you fully admit it to him and watch as he raises both of his eyebrows, almost in shock.

“Nervous?” At first, he’s scared that the word has a bitter taste to it—but it slowly dissipates when he sees the blush on your face darken because why did he have to say it like that.

It sounded like he was saying it for the first time, carefully tasting each letter and syllable. You felt nervous around Suguru.

“You are kind of intimidating,” the small smile painting your lips eases Suguru’s nerves despite having another word describe him. But he’s heard this one before. In fact, he likes it. He likes the way it makes him feel, the ego boost it gives him when he sees people quiver in his presence.

But he didn’t want to have this kind of effect on you. You didn’t need to fear him or avoid his eyes for him to know that he was a powerful sorcerer—he wanted you to feel safe with him. He wanted to rid you of any problem weighing you down, have that smile on your lips for a long time. Whatever Suguru felt for you, he was coming to terms with it and accepting it.

Slowly that is.

“If I’m intimidating, then is Yaga like a monster to you?” Suguru teases you back, and he stands up from his crouching position. He stares down at you with a grin, his sharp eyes making eye contact with your own bright ones. A contrast like this looked so endearing.

“Yes.” You don’t hesitate as you reply, and Geto immediately bursts into laughter at this.

“Wow, you didn’t even hesitate.” Wow, I made him laugh.

“But he is scary! I mean, he’s very nice… but I don’t think I’d wanna piss him off like Gojo does,” you mumble the last part, but Suguru hears you loud and clear.

“Satoru pisses off everyone, so you’re safe.”

Having a conversation like this with Geto felt nice. It wasn’t that often that you two chatted or even had the time to sit down and give each other normal classmate updates. So to be able to talk to him like this, make him laugh until his stomach hurts before walking to your dorms felt new. But you weren’t complaining.

Over the last few months, you’ve gone on a couple of missions with both Suguru and Satoru. They were all successful, and you always got done with them in half of the time.

But today was different. You were going on a mission with Suguru.

Yaga mentioned how you both seemed to work really well together, and while Suguru might’ve been stronger than you, you had so much potential that couldn’t get wasted. Suguru seemed like the perfect fit for a partner and a sort of mentor.

The mission was going to take place in another city, which is why you find yourself on the train with the tall male who was trying to get some sleep.

Sitting across from each other, you couldn’t help but steal a few glances at the guy. He looked too good from this angle, you could feel your body tingling in embarrassment.

The guy’s just trying to sleep

Over the last few months, no matter how hard you tried to brush your feelings for Suguru, they resurfaced not only a day later when he did something that would make your heart stutter in your chest. You remember him making you food when you were sick, giving you his scarf when you got too cold, suggesting to style your hair for you—how could you not fall for him?

But you were terrified of rejection. You were scared that those feelings could potentially ruin the friendship between you two, and God knows how horrible that would make you feel.

“We’re there,” you were so lost in your thought, that you didn’t feel the train stop. Only Suguru’s hand on your shoulder was able to snap you out of it.

“Oh sorry,” you stand up and make your way out of the train with Suguru following close behind.

“Did you manage to get some sleep?” He asks from behind you, and you slow down your pace to match his footsteps before shaking your head.

“Not really, I wasn’t that tired.”

“Oh but you will be after the mission, that’s always how it is.” He was referring to the many times you and Gojo would end up falling asleep on each other on the way back home, and he would secretly take pictures of the white haired male drooling on your hair to show it to you when you both wake up.

“Thank god he’s not here to drool on my hair,” you say with a hint of annoyance, but it’s harmless.

“Oh, you never know,” the playfulness to his voice makes you roll your eyes, but the smile on your face gives away that you were anything but annoyed.

You arrive to said location after ten minutes of walking. And at first sight, it seemed like any normal abandoned building; a little creepy, no color painting its exterior and most importantly lifeless. But the smell—god, the gut wrenching smell that came from it made you cringe.

“God, it smells horrible.”

“Then we’re at the right place.” Suguru is the first one to walk in, and you follow close after. You take careful steps, eyes darting around the area to scan it for any clues.

“I have a horrible feeling about this,” you mumble to yourself. You knew you were sent to this place to find the source of its gloominess, but the farther you walked down the hallway, the tighter your stomach got.

“It was an orphanage.” Your heart sinks at the revelation, watching the old toys scattered on the floor, filled with dirt and dust. You could only imagine what happened to the kids.

The room is silent for a few moments before both of you and Suguru stand still. Almost on guard.

“Do you feel it?”

“Yeah, I do.” Whatever took over this place was huge. It didn’t necessarily feel like a strong or dangerous curse, but the way it was staring at you from down the hall had you standing in a fighting position.

Before you could even process the fact that you were dealing with that big curse, it charges at you—and fast.

It’s too fast for its size!

Mist engulfs the creature almost immediately, it would only serve as a distraction for a little bit before it would rage even more and decide to charge at you.

“Go hide, I’ll take care of it.” You watch as Suguru calls in two of his powerful curses, both enough to do the job. But you don’t want that.

You don’t want him to do the job on his own, or worse hide while he does everything. It wasn’t why you became a sorcerer, why you chose to even join the school. And so you stood still, grabbing one of the daggers attached to your thigh. You ignore Suguru’s cries telling you to step away from the huge curse.

“You’re gonna get killed if you don’t move!”

“Shut up!” The mist slowly morphs into something else—something Suguru has never seen you done before. It shapes itself into a beautiful scenery, one where flowers are blooming and the sun is shining and—he was hallucinating.

And so was the curse. The technique might’ve not been the most powerful, but it still managed to blind the curse for a few moments. You fill your sharp dagger with cursed energy before slicing it open in one swift motion. It’s messy and sloppy, and blood covers your clothes and the floor like a paint. You stand still and stare in awe at what you’ve just done.

I killed a huge curse on my own!

What you fail to see is the multiple cuts on your body, and how all color leaves your face as exhaustion washes over you. Shit, you were passing out.

The last thing you remember hearing is Suguru calling your name before everything goes silent.

Suguru is a mess. That was the only word that could accurately describe the state of the poor guy as he paced back and forth in front of your dorm room. No matter how much Gojo tried to convince him that you were okay, he refused to budge.

He was mad at you. You were so reckless back there, refused to listen to him when he asked you to move—he was filled with all kinds of emotions.

And so when Yaga finally gives him the green light to visit you, the first thing he does is scold you.

You’re sitting up in your bed with bandages wrapped around your body, and you look so tired. But despite all of that, you still manage to flash him a warm smile when he walks inside your room and closes the door behind him.

“Yaga told me I was passed out for two days, I hope I didn’t worry you—“

“What you did was reckless.” Suguru cuts you off, voice sharp and cold that you flinch. Your eyes stare at your lap, avoiding his because he was right. You were reckless, refused to listen to him and powered up your technique faster than your body could handle.

“I know,” you don’t apologize. A part of you wants to, but you were still going to stand your ground if he tried to guilt trip you about the situation.

“And I was very mad,”

“I know.”

It’s silent for a few moments, and Suguru takes in how despite the tears blurring your vision, you refuse to give in and apologize about anything.

“But that’s only because you scared me to death,” he hears you sniffle, and he sees you blink away the tears before staring at him in shock. Suguru takes a few steps towards you, and for a moment you see the hesitation in his action. He quickly brushes it off as he gently rests his hand on your jaw, thumb stroking your cheek.

“You have no idea how terrifying that was.” Your heart starts racing at his words, and his touch left a tingling feeling behind when he pulled away to pat your head.

“I don’t want you to do that again, but I gotta admit,” he ruffles your hair, the scowl on his face morphing into a soft expression.

“That was really cool,” your smile is on your lips almost immediately at his words, and you take your hand and wrap it around his wrist. You pull his hand down and place it again on your face, a bold move that has the both of you slightly blushing.

“You think I’m cool?” your voice sounds sweet when you ask the question, and Suguru thinks he’s never heard you sound like this before but he nods anyway.

“The coolest.”

Neither of you move or say a thing after this, but the prolonged eye contact had the tall male leaning down a bit hesitantly at first, making sure you were okay with it. So when you pull him closer and place your lips on top of his, Suguru is convinced that it was the right thing to do.

The kiss is short and sweet. You pull away after a few seconds and the blush on your cheeks spreads across your entire face when he leans in to give you another kiss. Then another and another.

“Sugu—“

��Shhh, you look cute when you’re flustered.”

2023 © all works belong to slttygeto. do not repost my work anywhere else.

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papercorgiworld · 3 months

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Wear my name, be my girl

Theo, Blaise, Draco, Enzo and Mattheo

Bonus: Regulus Black (Marauders era)

An innocent laugh with the Weasley twins before the quidditch game gets someone jealous. When he intervenes it becomes clear that he wants you to wear his jacket and be his girl.

Thanks to this request!

I kinda processed the request wrong in my brain and instead of just writing for Theo and Mattheo, I wrote it for all of them. I wanted to write for Tom II Riddle but he doesn’t give me quidditch vibes, so I’m sorry no Tom. Also, not to sure about this piece, but I did have fun writing this. Anyways hopefully you have fun reading it.

For the Regulus Black bonus you can skip the intro.

It was a sunny, but chilly day. You breathe in the fresh air and head for the quidditch stadium. You arrived at the entrance and looked over to see if your friends were already at your regular spot, not noticing that a certain slytherin was staring at you. The slytherin team had just finished warming up when you arrived and he was about to get off his broom and leave his friends when the Weasley twins approached you.

“Early bird are we?” Fred sings as he sees you scanning the stands. You nod and smile, happy to have found someone you know. “Apparently too early, my friends aren’t here yet.” Fred chuckles and takes a step closer. “We’re here. We’ll keep you company.” George senses someone staring and looks over to the slytherins. “Yeaah. That might cost us the freaking game.” You and Fred look a bit confused at George’s words, so he points in the direction of the slytherins “Your boyfriend doesn’t seem too pleased with us.” You follow his finger and you can’t help but blush, before quickly looking away. “Not my boyfriend.” You chuckle. Unfortunately.

“Mind telling him that.” Fred jokes. “Hermoine told us he’s crazy obsessed with you always trying to impress you and stuff.” You shake your head at George’s words. “Don’t believe everything she says.” Fred smiles, noticing the slight blush on your face. “She says he’s answering questions during class faster than she can.” George says and Fred immediately follows. “And let’s not forget that whenever he flies near you he’s always doing cool tricks to get your attention.” George nods in agreement. “This game is going to be a curse, since he’s going to be even more arrogant and more eager to win.” Fred looks back to you. “And the way he’s staring daggers right now. That’s just unhealthy behavior.” You lick your lips and smile as the twins complain. “You guys really don’t like him?” Fred and George are baffled by your ridiculous question. “No, we don’t like him at all.” They both sing with humor as they state the obvious, making you laugh so hard you place a hand on your chest.

Theodore

You were too busy laughing to notice Theodore walk over to you, but the Weasley’s do see him and quickly say their goodbyes. You look up at Theodore when he stops next to you, but continues to stare at Fred and George with dead eyes. “Please, don’t curse them.” You chuckle and make Theo look at you. “What were you talking about? You know they’re just fools, no good knuckleheads.” You stare at him through your lashes, judging him with your eyes only. He sighs and throws his head to the side. “Maybe I’m overreacting but I don’t want them to get the wrong idea.” Your expression changes as you think for a moment. “What do you mean?” Theodore shrugs. “If you’re always nice to them they might think you like them.”

You frown for a second. “But I do like them.” Theodore rolls his eyes, a bit annoyed by how oblivious you were. “I mean like as in really really like them.” You chuckle at the suggestion. “Theo, we’re talking about Fred and George. We’re really just friends. And don’t tell me that guys and girls can’t be friends, because we’re friends.” His face goes blank and you struggle to figure out what he’s thinking. After a few seconds Theo presses his lips into a line. “Right, of course.” Theodore almost wants to reach for his chest as he feels his heart squeeze. Arm I stuck in the friendzone? How did I end up in the friendzone? He tries to shake the insecure feeling that slowly creeps up on him, but just then he notices Fred and George looking your way and snickering.

“Uhm, silly idea, but how about you wear this for good luck and to make sure that nobody bothers you again.” You watch him carefully take off his jacket and feel yourself get flustered at the idea of wearing a jacket with the name Nott on it. A nervous laugh rolls over your lips. “People will think something is going on between us. Earlier George already referred to you as my boyfriend.” You bite your lip softly after saying that last bit and Theodore can’t help but wonder if you would like him to be your boyfriend. He definitely wants to be yours. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” He smirks when he notices you blushing at his words. He takes a step closer to you and watches your pretty face heat up a little more as he drapes his jacket over your shoulders.

You slip your arms in the sleeves and allow yourself to get comfortable. You scan Theo’s face in an attempt to figure out what he’s thinking about, but just then Mattheo, who was running late, enters the stadium. As he passes you he notices you’re wearing Theo’s jacket. “Finally won her over, Notty-boy? About time.” Mattheo jokes and wants to ruffle Theo’s hair, but Theodore angrily pushes his hand away and gives Mattheo a scowl. Mattheo just laughs and walks over to the rest of the team to get scolded by Draco for being late. Theo continues to stare at Mattheo, cursing his friend and avoiding you. You watch Theodore as he refuses to look at you and you’re forced to take a step closer to get his attention. “Just ignore him.” Theo says with a sigh and you smile before looking down at your fidgeting hands. When you look up after a few seconds you’ve made up your mind and shake your head. “No, I won’t ignore it. How about you explain what he meant by ‘finally won her over’.”

Your eyes don’t leave Theodore’s face and a nervous hand moves through his messy hair. His tongue moves over his lips as he searches for the right words. “Let’s just say, I wouldn’t mind if people thought you were my girlfriend, because I like that idea.” You take another step closer to him and look at him with teasing eyes. “You like that idea of…” A smile tugs on his lips as he notices you get closer and urge him to confess. “I like the idea of you being my girlfriend.” A ridiculously happy smile spreads on your lips. “I must say I like that idea as well.” You try to sound as calm as possible, teasing him a little more, but your excitement is obvious. A soft laugh escapes his lips and he quickly reaches for your face holding you for a passionate kiss. When you break the kiss, his lips stay close to yours as you drown in each other’s eyes. “You should go back to your team before Draco freaks out.” He ignores your words and brushes over your bottom lip to ask for another intense kiss. “Just a few more kisses for good luck.”

Blaise

When Blaise approaches you three with his serious demeanor all laughter goes quiet and the twins awkwardly say their goodbyes. As soon as they’re out of sight you turn towards Blaise, who’s frowning in the direction they left. “Don’t worry they’re just being friendly.” He huffs, before finally turning towards you. “Trust me, no guy is ever just friendly.” You frown, before a smirk starts to tug on your lips. “Oh, so every guy has an agenda?” Blaise nods, his eyes still dark with jealousy. “Yes.” He answers without thinking it through and still glancing over in the direction of Fred and George. “So what’s yours?” You ask cheekily, happy that he got caught in your little trap and you cross your arms as you stare up at him. Immediately he looks at you and realizes what he said. You notice a hint of nervousness glimmer in his eyes as he averts his eyes and chuckles.

“Maybe not all guys. All Gryffindor guys. And Matt, he has like three agendas. And Enzo but his agenda is obvious, dude flirts with everyone.” Blaise tries to change the topic by ridiculing his friends. “But you don’t have a secret agenda?” You ask, not pleased with his answer. “Nope.” He tries to sound casual, but his brain is working on an excuse to leave, because he could feel himself heat up. You chuckle. “Good, because for a moment there I thought you were jealous.” Blaise forces an awkward laugh. “Nah. Why would I be?” You take a step closer and bite your lip. “I don’t know, it’s not like we’re dating.” Blaise nods, but there’s a hint of disappointment in his eyes. We’re not dating. I’m very much aware. No need to shove it in my face.

“Anyways, I better get going. Cedric’s waiting for me.” You make up on the spot, hoping to confirm your suspicion. “Cedric?” Blaise’s voice raises a bit, making his displeasure obvious. You try to suppress your cheeky smile and nod seriously. Blaise quickly realizes that he has no reason to keep you away from Cedric, but he hates the idea of you spending the entire game cosying up next to that damn hufflepuff.

Luckily Blaise’s brain comes up with the perfect plan. “Yeah, uhm, but before you go- I was just up there and it gets pretty cold, so… here take this and uhm be sure to wear it so you stay warm.” You can no longer contain your smile as Blaise takes off his jacket and hands it to you. You hold the jacket and stare at the letters forming his name. “Isn’t it weird that I’m wearing this? I mean we’re just friends.” Thanks for the reminder, not necessary. “Friends can wear jackets with their friend’s name on them.” Blaise argues and you laugh softly as you put on his jacket. “I’ve never seen you wear Draco’s.” He loved you wearing his jacket and couldn’t help but stare, ignoring your counter argument. “Would it really be so bad if people thought we were more than friends?” Blaise suddenly blurs, still adoring you in his jacket. He needed to know, because he wanted you to be his girl and wear his name every game, and maybe even have his name one day.

You close the last bit of space between you two, so you’re now almost pressed against him. It’s then that he realizes his feelings might not be one sided. You meet his eyes and with a soft voice you speak up. “No, it wouldn’t-” You fall silent when Blaise tilts your chin up. “And would it be so bad if we were more than friends?” You gently shake your head no and he leans in to kiss you tenderly. “Took you a while.” You tease when the kiss breaks and he smiles. “Shut up.” He whispers, before kissing you again and wrapping his arms around him.

You both break the kiss when you hear the slytherin team cheer for Blaise and you. You look over to them and chuckle. Blaise pulls you against his chest. “How about you wear that jacket to every game and I go search for some new friends.” You laugh at the last bit and press your lips against his. “Don’t worry, if I can have you and your jacket, I’ll gladly make peace with your merry band of idiots.” Blaise leans in for another kiss, but is interrupted by Draco’s yelling. “Hey! You should be preparing for the game.” Blaise rolls your eyes. “Minus Draco.” You joke and Blaise raises his eyebrows in agreement. “One last kiss for good luck?”

Draco frowns in annoyance as you and Blaise kiss for what feels like minutes. “They’re gonna have to part at some point right?” Enzo joins Draco. “I don’t know if I got to kiss her, I wouldn’t need air either.”

Draco

You’re too busy laughing with the twins to notice an agitated Draco strut over to you. It’s only when he literally pushes them aside that you meet his eyes. “Can you fools stop bothering her.” He snaps, his voice poisonous, and you cross your arms looking at Draco with a stern look. “They were not bothering me.” Draco huffs, thinking he clearly knows better than you. “They are always bothering you, talking to you for no reason.” Fred and George snicker. “Like you.” Draco looks at them with disgust and wrinkles his nose, before turning his face towards you. “Walk with me.” He demands with a calm and surprisingly gentle voice.

As soon as you're a few steps away from the Weasleys you meet his eyes with a stern look. “What was that for?” You snap and Draco drops his head knowing that you hated it when he was unkind to your friends. “I was saving you. They were clearly flirting.” You shake your head. “There’s no need for you to be so protective of me.” Draco moves closer to you and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “Yes, I do. You’re sweet, innocent and ridiculously beautiful. If I don’t watch over you… you’ll end up with the wrong type of guy.” You soften, knowing that his concern for you is genuine. “I know you mean well, Draco, but can’t you be a little less aggressive.” Draco sighs, not really seeing any problem in pushing people and snapping at them. He adores your sweet face and calms down. “Maybe there is a less aggressive way to keep idiots away from you.” You look at him questioningly and Draco slips off his jacket.

”Here, wear my quidditch jacket.” He hands it to you and you take it, but then you start to worry. “Isn’t it weird if I wear it? It’s something normally only girlfriends do.” Draco watches you put on his jacket regardless of your own argument and he shrugs. “I’m not really a labels kind of guy, but if you want to be my girlfriend, fine.” Your mouth drops a little. “That’s not what I was saying.” Draco takes your hand and pulls you closer, placing his other hand on the small of your back. You blush as you're now pressed against him. You close your eyes and sigh. “Why can’t you just admit that you like me like a normal person.” Draco licks his lips and waits for you to look up at him, before speaking. “I’m in love with you, (y/n) (y/l/n). Wear my name, be my girl.” You feel stripped of all air as his honest words reach your heart and make it swell. “Happy now?” He whispers and you nod, cheeks burning with color.

“Love confessions aren’t free.” He whispers before slowly leaning in. You smile and meet his lips for a soft kiss. “I’ll wear your name and be your girl.” He stares at you and feels himself fall even more in love with you as you say those words. “Gods, how can one person be so perfect?” He pulls you into a tight embrace, feeling like he needs to keep you close and safe with him. “Cheer for me, will you?” Draco’s soft whisper makes him sound almost vulnerable. You lock his lips with yours, kissing him passionately in an attempt to show him how much you love him. “I’ll cheer for you like a crazy fangirl.” A bright smile forms on Draco’s lips and he leans in to leave one more soft peck on your lips.

Enzo

You see Enzo approach and smile at him, but you also notice something’s different about him. “Hello, fellas, how’s it going?” Lorenzo places his arms on Fred and George’s shoulders. Fred and George look at each other and then to you. “I take it this is our cue.” Fred laughs and they both disappear out of Enzo’s arms. “Did I say something wrong?” He asks innocently, like his little dominant move wasn’t obvious. You smile at him and softly shake your head. “You came off a little jealous I guess.” You try to explain and Enzo shrugs. “I’m not, you can have friends.” You laugh and close the distance between you two.

“Uhuh but you’ll always be best friend, Enz.” Enzo groans. “Yey me.” His words make you frown and he immediately feels embarrassed about his childlike behavior. “Sorry, you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just- I got my feelings all messed up after last night's kiss.” He had been crushing on you and at first he thought it was just a small thing that would pass, but it didn’t. Terrified to ruin his friendship with you and lose what little he had with you, he buried his feelings. However, after last night all of those suppressed feelings were back in his head and heart, stronger than ever.

You feel your heart sink as he refers to the stupid drunk kiss that happened last night during a ridiculous party game. You had banished that memory to the back of your head, not allowing your feelings of love to ruin your friendship. “You said it was just a silly kiss.” Enzo clenches his jaw. “I know what I said.” You’re surprised by his harsh tone, this was a rare part of Enzo that almost never surfaced. You take a step closer to him and place your hands on his shoulder. “Don’t tell me that some stupid kiss ruined our friendship?” Lorenzo sighs. “No, I did that long before last night.” Your eyebrows knit together as you don’t know what he’s talking about. Enzo shuts his eyes and presses his lips into a line before sighing. “I’ve loved you since forever and… not being with you it’s eating me up (y/n). Please don’t hate me for this, but if I can’t have you, then I can’t be your friend.”

There’s so much sadness in his voice it almost breaks your heart. When you don’t immediately react Enzo moves away, but your hands on his shoulders won’t lead him and you pull him closer. “I know exactly what-” Enzo shakes his head. “No, you don’t.” You laugh. “Yes! Yes, I do, Enzo Berkshire! Because I’ve been in love with you since forever!” It takes a moment for him to process, but when his eyes go wide you see his eyes light up again. The next moment his lips crash against yours for a long and intense kiss, while his arms wrap around you tightly, hugging you like only Enzo can. When he breaks the kiss his head still rests against yours. “Can I ask you for a silly little thing?” He whispers with playful eyes. You nod and Lorenzo lets go of you to take off his jacket. “Wear this, for me. For good luck… and maybe also to make sure those Gryffindor’s know that you’re off the market.”

You turn around and Enzo helps you slip on his jacket. His body fills with pride as he sees you wear his name. “I’ll wear it with pride.” You say and tug him by his shirt to demand another kiss. His hand holds your head, fingers entangled in your hair as his lips passionately move over yours. “I’m winning this game for you.” He whispers, before leaving to join his team.

Mattheo

You were too busy laughing at Mattheo’s expense to notice him walk over. With a foul smile and head held high he looks at the twins. “What are we laughing about?” His voice is calm, but he’s radiating fury. However, Fred can’t resist fuelling him especially with the Gryffindor - Slytherin game starting in half an hour. “You.” Fred says bluntly and Mattheo instantly steps in between you and the twins. Dark eyes focused on Fred. “What’s so funny about me?” Fred’s about to open his mouth when George decides to be the wiser one and slings his arm around his brother. “Time for one quick last round around the stadium, I think.” Coming to George’s aid you place a hand on Mattheo’s biceps, urging him to turn away from Fred and face you.

“They’re absolute tossers.” Mattheo snaps at you when he finally turns away from Fred. You laugh at his frustration. “They’re funny, though.” Your little joke doesn’t sit well with him. Part of him grew worried that maybe you had a thing for one of the twins. “Are you going to cheer them on or me?” He asks with an annoyed tone and piercing eyes, but as soon as he notices you take a step back he softens. He hated himself for getting so jealous and being so possessive of a girl that wasn’t even his. Instinctively his hand reaches for your arm, softly brushing it as a gentle way of asking you to not move away from him. “I- I didn’t mean to- I- I just thought they were flirting or something.” He chuckles, partly confessing he was jealous. He feels himself get flustered as you study him. You had never seen him behave like this, but he quickly regained his confident composure. “Shall I fly you to your spot in the stands?” He offers in an attempt to distract you from his confession.

But you’re not letting him get away this easy. “So what if they were flirting with me, Riddle? Is that a crime? Because last time I checked I was still single so-” Your teasing his cut short when Mattheo snorts, making you raise your eyebrows. He slightly clenches his jaw, cursing himself for not being able to control himself and allowing his arrogance to have the upper hand. “So what… you want those guys to flirt with you?” His eyes focus on yours. “They weren’t flirting and if they were there’s no reason for you to get all snappy about it.” You retort, crossing your arms. In his mind you were already his and he hated that you kept on reminding him that in reality you weren’t his at all. When you notice his jaw clench, you roll your eyes and remind him once more of the one thing he can’t stand hearing. “Matt, you don’t need to worry about me, I’m not your girlfriend.”

Okay, now you've done it. You notice a flicker in his eyes and then he quickly reaches for your arm, moving you behind the stands so you’re alone. “Wha-?” He pushes you against the wooden wall of the stadium and cups your cheek. “You should be my girlfriend.” His lips crash into yours forcefully and he pushes himself against you. It takes a moment, but you can’t resist the intensity of his kiss and your hand sneaks up to his curls as you part your lips and kiss back. When he breaks the kiss he stays close to you and studies you while you press your lips into a line, realizing how quickly you kissed him back. You feel your cheeks heat up as you notice the smug smile appear on Mattheo’s lips. His fingers entangle with your hair as he leans in for another kiss, this time softer but still intense.

When he breaks the kiss, his eyes glimmer with pride and his smirk frustrates you. “I think you should wear this.” He says, taking a step back and taking off his jacket. “You know, since you’re my girlfriend now.” You roll your eyes, but nevertheless turn around so he can wrap it around you. He pulls you with your back against his chest, strong arms wrapped around you, and traces your neck with sweet kisses. “Can I now fly you to the stands? I know your regular spot.”

Having you close against him as he flies around, making sure everyone has seen you with him while wearing his green jacket with his name on, was an unnecessary ego boost. He makes sure you land safely on your feet next to your friends. “Don’t be too insufferable.” You warn him and a smug smile tugs on his lips. “Can’t make any promises.” You go stand on your tiptoes. “If you promise to behave, I’ll kiss you now that everyone’s watching.” You swear you saw little lights in his eyes at your suggestion.

Bonus Regulus Black

Sirius seriously needed to keep his hands to himself, Regulus was fuming as he watched his brother brush a strand of hair out of your face. He had not been desperately trying to impress you for his idiot brother to swoop in and charm you with one decent gesture. “Not that you have any value to the Gryffindor team, but shouldn’t you get ready for the game.” Regulus walks over to stand by your side with his broom still in hand, staring his brother down with disdain.

Sirius grins at his brother’s obvious jealousy. “Be careful brother, your true colors are showing.” Regulus clenches his jaw and averts his eyes feeling a little caught, but thankfully his grinning fool of a brother leaves. When he looks over at you, you’re already smiling at him. “That was a bit harsh of you. Nervous for the game?” You ask and he’s glad you offer him an excuse for his behavior. “Yes, definitely the game. Though, I’m confident we’re gonna put Gryffindor to shame.” A smug smirk tugs on his lips and you laugh at his confidence, but he immediately gets a little serious. “You know, my brother’s not a bad guy, but he can be a bit… uhm- invasive at times. So if he’s ever too much, let me know.” You smile and nod softly, not going to argue with a worried Regulus. “Promise?” Regulus watches you carefully, waiting for you to make the promise. You take a step closer to him and lock your eyes with his. “Promise.”

Just as he seems to be reassured enough to turn around and go back to his team, he notices a few guys glance over at you. He sighs and turns back around to you with a face filled with annoyance. Frustrated, he licks his lips as his eyes dart around. “Why are you so tense?” You ask genuinely worried and you reach for his arms, gently squeezing them to calm him. “You really are too precious to leave unchaperoned.” He breathes and you laugh at his choice of words. He sighs, but then a genius idea pops up in his head. “Here, wear this.” He sets his broom aside for a moment and lets his slytherin training jacket slide off his shoulders. When he hands it to you look at it with confused eyes. “It’s rather chilly today.” Regulus explains, but feels himself heat up. Maybe his attempt to claim you and protect you from others was a bit too obvious. You tilt your head and stare at his blushing cheeks, but you refuse to take his jacket since you’re a bit annoyed with his inability to come clean about his feelings.

He notices that you’re being a bit difficult about it and sighs, getting a little flustered. “Just do me a favor and wear it.” You shake your head in amusement. “Fine, if you'll do me a favor as well.” You reach for the jacket and he nods, feeling a bit more confident now that you’re complying. You slip the jacket on and enjoy the warmth of it and Regulus’ scent, before taking a step closer to him so there’s no space left between you two. “Kiss me.” You demand and his eyes widen, not believing that that’s the favor you’re asking for. Clearly you had seen through his subtle flirting and obvious jealousy of the past months. No denying it now, time to step up. He leans in, simultaneously wrapping an arm around, and brushes your lips before kissing you tenderly. You rest your hands on his shoulders and allow him to pull you against him as he intensifies the kiss. Slowly you break the kiss, but your eyes still linger on his as you enjoy being in his arms. “Be careful up there.” You whisper and it’s then that Regulus realizes exactly how perfect of a girlfriend you’re going to be. He nods and moves away from you, unable to hide smile. He takes his broom and heads back towards his grinning teammates.

2K notes · View notes

ilwonuu · 3 months

Note

we need reader who just wants to makeout with her stupidly attractive bf jaemin but is too embarrassed to ask for it while bf jaemin does absolutely nothing to help them and is an absolute tease eueueueu

im so sorry the text i added didn’t save!! of course i will write jaemin for u. i love you and jaemin. thank you<3

ೀ𖥔 ࣪˖kiss me. n.jaemin.

summary- you are constantly begging your bf to drop his hard to get act but he never does.

warnings-roughly making out, tease!jaemin needy reader!, pet names(love)

author’s note- im actually gonna explode rn i need him. LMFAO my notes are always me thirsting. i was listening to boom while writing this

you and your boyfriend are currently sitting in your bed watching romantic comedies. you haven’t been focused on the movie for awhile now. more focused on the attractive boy next to you.

he would look over at you every now and then smiling about the movie and commenting on it. what he hasn’t commented on is all the looks you’ve been giving him. he pretends not to notice. he would watch as you look at him shifting your gaze to his lips over and over.

“jaem?” you give up on waiting for him to notice trying to hint at what you want. “hm?” he looks over at you before returning back to the movie. “can we do something more fun?” you ask cuddling into him more. “yes love what did you have in mind? want to play a game or watch something more engaging?” he asks pretending to be clueless.

you shake your head. “something else jaem.” you say kissing his cheek softly. “well you gotta tell me. i cant guess.” he laughs at you. “i’m kinda embarrassed.” he shakes his head. “you known i don’t judge love.” he smiles at you innocently.

he just wants to hear you say what you want before giving in a little. “jaem you know.. come on don’t make me say it.” you say kissing up his neck slightly. “well i can’t give you what you want unless you tell me y/n. just say it.” he smiles at you again acting completely unfazed. “fucking fine. can we makeout? can you kiss me please jaemin?” he smiles at your words pulling you onto his lap. “see love look how easy that was. where do you want me to kiss huh?” he teases again kissing your face all over. “jaem please.” you say looking at him sternly. “you are just too cute.” he pulls you to kiss him. his hands immediately going to your ass. you moan into the kiss and his touch. he deepens the kiss sliding his tongue into your mouth roughly. you gasp at his actions causing him to slide his tongue deeper in your mouth.

he pulls away after kissing you for a couple minutes. “shit your lips are addictive babe.” he says smiling and kissing your nose. “well you could get more kisses if you weren’t so clueless all the time!!” you roll your eyes at him before going back to the movie you two were watching. he doesn’t say anything just gives you another innocent smile.

#nct x reader #nct dream #nct jaemin #nct #jaemin #jaemin drabbles #nct drabbles #nct imagines #nct fluff

934 notes · View notes

kingtomura · 1 month

Text

Cat and mouse

synopsis: Your ex boyfriend has some nerve texting you at three in the morning — an entire week after the disaster breakup you had. You should really go over there and give him a piece of your mind. Well, you know what they say about famous last words. wc: 6.1k | crossposted to ao3 content: tomura shigaraki x female reader, no quirks au, toxic tomura, reader is kinda toxic too tbh, unhealthy relationships, breaking up and making up, vaginal fingering, overstim, breeding kink, piv, dubcon creampie, degredation, threats of baby trapping, hurt/comfort, sweet at the end idc

You’ve told your friends time and time again to stay out of your business. They never listen.

“Oh my god, Kirishima? Is he even twenty yet?” You drag as you watch your friend flip through several pictures of the redheaded boy like he was a member of the bachelor.

She smiles, scrolling her phone for more options, “no, but he will be in a couple of months!”

“No!” Your words are sharp. You love Mina but god, you don’t want her to play matchmaker with you. It’s not like you’re a charity case or something.

She gasps and you swear you could see the lightbulb go off above her head. “What about Denki? He’s fun!”

You groan, falling back onto the bed and covering your eyes with your arm. “Mina.”

“Hey, just give her a break okay? It’s only been about a week.” Your saving grace Yaoyorozu speaks up and it’s nice to finally have someone on your side.

“Thank you.”

“Seriously? So we’re just going to sit around and watch you mope about all day?” Mina questions, irritation clear in her voice and it grates your ears.

“Preferably, yes! Just let me be.” You roll over, face officially shoved into your pillow. It’s been a rough couple of days and you haven’t gotten a single call or text from Tomura. Not that you should be expecting one. You broke up with him after all.

It’s just.. this time feels different. Usually there’s more arguing and he’s fighting for you to stay around, but this time there was nothing. No quips, no insults, just “fine, get out then.”

That hurt the most.

You had no idea what he was up to.

Maybe he was as depressed as you were.

Maybe he’s found someone else.

The thought makes you stop in your tracks. The idea of Tomura, your tomura with someone else is enough to make you nauseous.

You jump to your feet and rush to the bathroom, locking yourself in and falling to your knees.

God, what if that was why it was so easy?

You pull out your phone, the device lighting up and unlocking with your facial id.

Tomura doesn’t use social media much but you could still check to see if he’d blocked you.

To your surprise, he hadn’t.

He hasn't posted anything either and there’s no new person in his followers.

You feel yourself exhale a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding. No change is a good thing.

There’s knocking on the door and you thank the stars you locked it. Your friends would judge you so hard if they saw you lurking through your ex’s social media.

“Hey, are you okay in there?” It’s your saving grace Yaoyorozu again and you almost feel bad for shutting her out.

“Yeah, I’m sorry if it feels like I pressured you! I’ll give you some space.” Mina's regretful voice calls and it makes your heart clench. You know she means well but she just doesn’t understand. None of them do.

Whether you want to admit it or not, you love Tomura.

Yes, you argue and yes, you fight, but he just gets you. He’s so cynical, but so caring — in his own special way. Too bad he was such an asshole. The argument wasn’t even supposed to go that far.

There are tears beginning to blur your vision and you wipe them away, willing the feelings down and standing to your feet.

If he wanted you to stay away, then fine. You could do that.

You splash cool water onto your face and take a breath, steeling yourself and getting ready to face your friend once more. It was Saturday and they were convinced you needed a fun girl’s night.

It takes a lot to refrain from cringing at the phrase, but you believe they held some truth with the idea. You definitely didn’t want to be alone right now.

You unlock the bathroom door, meeting Mina and Yaoyorozu’s worried expressions with a smile.

“We should probably get ready now, huh?”

Mina’s eyes light up, smile blinding and excitement contagious.

“Yes! Jirou and the others are here now.” She starts to clap, excitement buzzing around her, “Girl’s night is going to be amazing!”

—-

Girl’s night was a bust.

The moment everyone arrived the apartment quickly filled with chaos. Noisy and busy, it was all giving you a headache. Until someone decided it would be a good idea to pregame before going out.

In preparation for the night your friend’s insisted that you get dolled up, hair makeup and skimpy clothes you wouldn’t look twice at on any normal day.

You had to admit it made you a little more excited to get out and at least feel like your world isn't crashing around you. It was supposed to be a fun little night out. Somehow one drink turned into two, which turned into three which turned into Mina swearing she could beat everyone in a dance battle.

The group only got more riled up as everyone indulged in this silly challenge.

One challenge leads to another, which leads to more drinking, which then ends in everyone being too drunk to function and knocking out — all laid out in odd places around your living room floor and couch.

The groggy feeling came first, your arms radiating in dull pain as you vaguely recalled trying to beat Mina in a contest of who could do the most push ups. It sure as hell wasn't you, but the drunk version of you thought it was possible to move mountains.

You blink a few times, trying to will your eyes to rapidly adjust to the darkness of the room and find out what this odd buzzing noise beside you had been. Turning over, you find your phone, squinting as the too bright screen lights up your face and you see that it is three a.m.

You had fallen asleep with everyone else.

The phone buzzes again, lighting up and you have to squint further to read the contact name.

Tomura.

Your eyes widen as you scan over the three texts he’s sent you.

Wasting no time, you rush to your feet and into the bathroom so you can look at your phone without the chance of prying eyes overlooking your shoulder. Even though they were probably going to be out until late morning.

Tomura’s messages were short, no paragraphs, no essays but three different messages sent in succession.

When are you coming to get your shit?

I’m tired of waiting.

And I’m deleting our farm btw.

The first two messages don’t get much of a reaction from you, especially since it’s three a.m and he knows you’re usually asleep around this time.

But the third message…

Your Stardew Valley farm that you’ve had and worked on together for almost two years being put on the line and threatened? What the fuck was his problem?

This farm was a constant in your relationship. Throughout the ups and downs and back and forths. You were sure that hell would freeze over before you both would give up that progress. But here he is, threatening you while you would have been asleep. What an asshole.

Your feet are moving before your brain can stop them and you make your way to the front door. Since your friends were all passed out it would be easy to sneak over to Shigaraki’s place, give him a piece of your mind and then sneak back. In and out, quick and easy.

Your decision is made and you grab your coat, deciding to just go over there as you are. You hadn’t changed out of your outfit that was supposed to be for the night out, but it didn’t matter. You only needed to get over there and get there fast.

Once you arrive at Tomura’s doorstep you waste no time knocking. It’s around three in the morning so he should still very much be awake.

There's a chill in the air as you wait for his answer and you wrap your jacket closer to your body. A rumble of thunder caught your attention and it's then you notice the rain clouds rolling in. You knew it would only be a matter of time before the bottom of the sky falls out and rain drenches everything. You were on borrowed time if you wanted to make it back before then.

After what feels like forever the door finally opens, revealing a very cozy pajama-clad Tomura, who seemed a little too pleased for his own good — if that sly smile he was doing a bad job at hiding was anything to go by.

You don't give him a chance to greet you or say anything for that matter, stopping his words in their tracks as you cut him off. “What do you want?”

He doesn’t bother hiding his smirk now, the expression making your fists clench and your anger boil. “What do I want? You’re at my door, in front of my apartment.” He scoffs, clearly getting the exact reaction he had wanted from you, “I should be asking what do you want?”

Caught like a deer in headlights. Whatever, you don't let that stop you as you pull out your phone to show him his text. “You sent this, I know you’re bluffing. What do you want?”

Tomura shrugs, leaning against his door frame and giving you a pleased look. Expression relaxed and content. Not a care in the world. “To talk.”

“Well, I'm here now, so let’s talk.” You spit, crossing your arms and waiting for whatever else he would throw at you.

“Sure, but you should come in first.” He starts, looking up towards the darkened sky, confirming his assessment. “It’s gonna rain soon, you know.”

Of course you knew that.

You just didn’t want to give him more time than you had. But you agree and go in, ignoring the fighting feeling in the back of your mind screaming at you to turn away and hightail it out of there.

Tomura’s home is the exact way it was the day you left, give or take a few more containers of takeout littered around the place. You have half a mind to scold him about it, but quickly remember that it isn’t your place to do that anymore.

So instead you stay quiet, following him into the apartment and into the living room. Opting to stand as he sat, and resisted the urge to get comfortable.

“So, what do you want to talk about?” You try, done watching him pick up a controller and boot up a video game. Seriously?

Your patience was wearing thin now as you watched him ignore you to play some stupid game. You try calling to him again, knowing this was probably a waste of your time and groans.

“I was in the middle of something before you got here. Let me finish and we’ll talk.” It's flippant the way he waves you off and continues the game. The lack of care only hurting your feelings further and making you realize this may have all been a big mistake on your part.

You shouldn’t be at your ex boyfriend’s house being ignored. You should be at your house getting drunk and hanging out with your best friends. There was no reason to stay somewhere you’re obviously not valued.

It’s a simple choice when you put it into perspective.

But things are always easier said than done.

You sigh, the air puffing out your cheeks, a bad habit you had when angry, and walk right in front of Tomura’s TV. There was more satisfaction in making him lose the game and then announcing your departure than just leaving quietly.

He cranes his neck to see around you, but it doesn’t work, finally giving up as his character inevitably dies. “What!?”

“I’m leaving!” You announced, turning on your heel and heading towards the front door.

“You had to make me lose first? I said I was almost done!” He spat back, rising from the couch to follow you.

You shrug, “I don’t care. Why invite me in if you’re just going to ignore me?”

“Didn’t think you had the patience of a child.'' Tomura stands in front of you, cutting through your path and stopping you in your tracks.

It's almost comical the way he insults you. “Okay pot, meet kettle.” You try to brush past him, but he side steps with you.

“What are you dressed like that for anyway? Did you go out tonight or something?”

“No!” You deny, a little louder than intended and then pause. “But it’s none of your business what I do anyway.”

Tomura hums at this, taking the words in and running them through his mind as he gives you a once over, eyes scanning from the too-tight shirt you wore — showing a generous amount of cleavage, down to your mini skirt that left little to the imagination.

“Could've fooled me.”

“What do you mean by that?” You hate when he gives you cryptic answers, like it’s impossible to pry into his mind to see what he was thinking at the moment.

“You knew you were coming to see me so I dont get why you're wearing that skimpy shit. Unless you wanted me to check you out.”

“Not everything is about you, Tomura. Maybe I just wanted to dress up and look nice.”

“Bullshit—”

“God, Tomura you always fucking do this!” You yell, walking right up into his face. The excitement in his scarlet eyes sends a chill up your spin, but you can’t back down.

He gets closer, matching your tone and you can still see the grin he’s trying to hide. It makes you see red. “Do what? Tell you the truth? You know I’m not wrong.”

“Yeah, you think you know everything, but you don’t. I’m dressed up because I want to be, not because of you.” You’re insisting at this point, frustration threatening to tip over and spill out into the form of another pointless argument. Why did you think you could actually come over and have a decent conversation with him?

Tomura is a master at getting under your skin and hitting where it hurts. In all of your arguments he’s never really pulled out the big shots but you wouldn’t put it past him to do so now.

“Oh, so you come over to my place dressed like a slut and you expect me to believe you don’t have some hidden motive?”

And there it is.

Your last straw. He could be so egotistical and mean — you’ve had it.

You regret it the moment you do it, but your body moves before your brain can process your actions. You push Tomura. Hard.

He doesn’t fall back far but you know it’s enough to piss him off. And he’s never been one to hold anything back, so he shoves you back and your back hits the wall.

Tomura has you pinned before you know it and there’s a thrill that runs through your body in a way you know you shouldn’t be feeling. Your knees feel weak for reasons that are not related to fear and your panties were gradually becoming more wet.

His voice is low and his eyes are narrowed as he pins you against the wall, pressing your cheeks together with his other hand. “You’re really starting to piss me off.”

You have to bite back a smile, knowing this has taken a turn and you aren’t strong enough to stop where it’s going. Not that you would want to.

“Oh yeah? If I piss you off so badly then why are you hard?”

He doesn’t look down. He can feel his own arousal just as well as you can while it’s pressed against your abdomen.

Tomura pushes off of you — maintaining some distance as he turns away.

“You’re fucking annoying.”

“Sure am.” You supply, chipper and certain as you trail behind him.

He’s walking further into the apartment, and you follow. Legs moving on their own accord as you go further into the lion's den, exchanging quips and insults. You jab your finger into his shoulder, bothered by the way he continues to ignore you, it's a pathetic attempt at catching his attention and it works. Kind of.

The only response being him slapping your hand away with a glare and muttering a soft fuck off as he walked on.

You both went back and forth. Like the sun and moon, you just can’t stay away from each other.

It was how these things usually went between you and Tomura. He would start up, make a petty argument and you would never back down. Tomura is someone who was used to getting his way and others simply did what he said with no objections.

But that was not how you were.

And he loved it.

You knew by the way he would get that devious glimmer in his eye when you would challenge a point, starting up a debate. Sometimes they were heated enough to make you both break up. It never lasted more than a few days. A week being the longest.

Push and pull.

Tomura made his way past you again, ignoring your calls about how you hate being ignored. At this point you’re sure he’s doing it on purpose to rile you up more but you can’t help but take the bait. You grab his shoulder, forcing him to turn around and face you as you point a finger in his face.

“Stop walking away from me!”

He grabs your wrist and pulls you closer, making you stumble on your feet and almost lose balance. You were so close you could feel the heat from his body and smell the fresh linen scent of his shirt. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

You snatch your wrist away from him, tension between you two growing hotter by the second as the space between you got thinner.

“What are you going to do about it?”

The narrowing of his eyes only made your grin grow wider as you watched the gears turn in his head as he thought about just how many things he would do about it. All of it enticed you, so you beat him to the punch.

You reach forward again, fully intending to shove his shoulder again for another reaction, another glare, maybe even more words, but he stops you. It was fast, the way you both tumbled through the hallway as Tomura crashed his lips to yours. The relief of finally feeling his lips again meshed with the excitement of how rough he was with you.

You lose yourself in the kiss, welcoming him in with open arms as you vaguely register the dark walls of his room and posters plastered along the walls in your scuffle.

It was exciting, probably the best part of breaking up and making up. At this point you think the whole point of falling apart is coming back together again. An endless cycle where the reward is worth the punishment.

Cat and mouse.

You end up on top of him, straddling his hips while your smug smile beams down at him. Tomura gives you an unamused look in return, yet the way his hands rested on your thighs gave away the ill hidden interest. It was all the encouragement you needed as you leaned down, hovering above him with both hands on his chest.

“Not so tough now, are you?”

It’s bait. You know it’s bait, he knows it’s bait, but he takes it anyway — the way you knew he would.

Tomura wastes no time flipping the both of you over, quickly reversing your positions as he settled himself between your legs. It’s dangerous the way his actions riled you up further, and you have to bite your lip to keep the smile from betraying your false anger. You couldn’t let him know how excited you were to be back in his bed.

He presses your cheeks together and rocks your head left to right, tone mocking and eyes wild with fever, “Oh, look who’s become a firecracker all of the sudden. Where did that flame come from, huh?”

You want to respond, but Tomura beats you to it, releasing your cheeks and pointing a nimble finger against your forehead, “Don’t be dumb.”

His eyes trail from yours and then down to your lips, then finally down to your exposed cleavage. The movement was swift as he cupped one of your breasts in his hand and dipped down, claiming your lips again. It was softer than the first time but not by much, especially not when he matched his pace by grinding his clothed erection into you, making you moan at the contact.

Your skirt was so short and it made you feel even more exposed than you already were. Tomura had easy access to you and the thin fabric of your panties made everything feel so much closer.

You moan at the contact, swiping your tongue against Tomura’s bottom lip and wasting no time deepening the kiss as you pull him closer. You needed more and you needed it as soon as possible.

Tomura pulled the low cut front of your shirt down, easily exposing your breasts from the confines of the shirt and massaged them, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles against your nipples and making you cry out from the sensitivity.

He pulls away from you, eyes gazing into yours and you swore in that moment he put you in a trance. Tomura’s ruby red gaze always left you mesmerized and you can’t help the whimper that leaves your lips, brows furrowed and eyes wanting, “Please.”

“Please what?” And he’s not taunting you, he’s not mocking you. His eyes are soft as he brings a hand to your cheek. “Tell me what you want.”

“You.” Fuck, you’ve missed him. “I just want you.”

There’s a hint of a smile on his face as he strokes your cheek, soft look in his eyes making your heart flutter, and then it’s gone. Replaced by a hardened gaze as he moves to remove your shirt and bra, fully exposing you to his hungry eyes, and then moves to remove your short skirt.

His hands hover there for a moment, debating whether or not he should keep it on and fuck you in it, but then decides against the idea and pulls it off, taking your soaked panties down with it as well.

The air in the room feels cool against your skin as you shiver in anticipation.

“Fuck,” Tomura whispers, now eye level with your cunt. You gasp as he runs two fingers between your wet folds and holds the digits up to show you. Syrupy clear slick clung to them, slowly trailing down as Tomura rose back up, eye level with you once more.

“You’re so wet…” He murmured, bringing the digits to your mouth and you opened, taking them into your mouth and tasting yourself. You kept eye contact as you watched his eyes widen in delight — Tomura loved it when you put on a show for him.

There’s another moment of Tomura pressing against your tongue with his fingers and then he pulls them out, opting for a kiss in exchange, his tongue dipping into your mouth and groaning as he could taste what’s left of your slick on you as well.

The pleasant feeling and linguid action of your movements made your shoulders relax as you practically melted into his soft bed, the feeling of his body above yours bringing you mountains of comfort. It was a distraction, of course.

You felt the same two of Tomura’s fingers prod at your slick entrance before pressing in fully and all the way down to the knuckle. The stretch was intense but the pressure was euphoric, making you squeeze your eyes shut and grip him closer.

He didn’t make you wait long as he pumped his fingers, quickly finding that sensitive spot so deep inside of you that only he could pinpoint and brushing against it over and over.

The feeling was so good it made you pull away from the kiss to breathe, thighs twitching and toes curling in pleasure. You wouldn’t last long like this.

“Tomura, fuck..!” You moaned, drowning in ecstasy as he continued his abuse of your spot, never letting up or slowing down, aiming to make you cum as quickly as he could. It was obvious he wanted you to come undone as soon as possible by the way he watched your every expression.

The way your brows furrowed to the way you bit your lip. Tomura eagerly drank every expression and gave it back to you in the form of pleasure.

“What?” He started, unphased by your dilemma, “Gonna cum?”

It took a lot of focus and effort, but you nod — done with fighting for the night and accepting the fact that you will come apart quickly. So you give in to the pleasure.

Tomura smiles, a devious grin splitting his features as he curls his fingers, hitting the spot one more time for good measure and you lose composure, your climax crashing into you like a tidal wave. There was nothing you could do besides ride the feeling while holding on to Tomura tight — like you would get swept away if you didn’t.

He fucks you through it with his fingers, eyes never leaving your face as you come down from your high.

“Pent up, huh?” He questions, and this time there is that little hint of teasing. It brings you back to reality.

Yes, you have been pent up. You haven’t been able to get off to anything since you’ve broken up and it’s been hell.

You have no time for the games, you just want him and you want him now.

So, you take Tomura’s face in your hands, making him look you in the eyes. The flecks of black in his carmine eyes always makes you remember why you come back. Every single time.

“Fuck me, please, Tomura.” It's soft and filled with desire that you cannot be bothered to hide, and Tomura has never been one to deny you.

He quickly discards his own clothes, making sure to not stay away from you for long. His cock is hard and leaking precum from the head as he strokes it in preparation. You feel giddy at the thought and watch as he slides the head of his cock between your folds, coating it with your slick, and rubbing against your clit. The action makes your hips twitch up towards him.

He loves to tease and make you wait, but today he doesn’t make you wait long. Tomura leans down after lining himself up with your entrance and places his free hand behind your head, right above the nape of your neck. His hands were warm and the feeling of those hands cradling your head felt so comforting in the space of his familiar dark bedroom.

You bring a hand to his hair, tangling your fingers in his ashen locks as he pushes forward. The stretch makes you whimper and Tomura captures your lips in a kiss again, swallowing the noises and releasing a groan of his own as your walls tighten around his cock.

There's something about the way Tomura drags his hips, the way he starts off at a slow pace, winding you up as he steadily increases his speed and force. It happens so gradually that you don't realize you’re screaming his name until he tells you to shut up — threatening to cover your mouth because he didn't want his neighbors to hear how much of a slut you were.

It drove you mad the way he said it all with a smile and fucked you harder. Almost daring you to be louder so he can punish you with a hand over your mouth.

Tomura knew how rough you liked it and he always delivered, giving you back arching pleasure as he pounded into you. It leaves you gasping and struggling to keep your voice down. Your hands find the surface of his back, trying to hold on as much as you could with building pleasure on the horizon.

“Tomu— Tomura..! Please,” you cry and he doesn’t miss a beat, driving his cock so deep against your sweet spot it makes you see stars. “Fuck..!”

“Yeah, that’s it.” Tomura cooed, eyes filled with mischief as he brought you closer to the edge. “Cry for me.”

And you do, your body feeling euphoric as the feeling buzzed up your spine and filled your brain with the fuzz of ecstasy.

“What are you gonna do, huh?” He starts, his hips grinding against you, the closeness of his pelvis rubs against your clit, making you cry out again, “What are you gonna do when I breed this pretty cunt and make sure you’re stuck with me forever?”

He’s bluffing, you know Tomura doesn’t want kids. He’s just trying to gauge your reaction. Your dedication.

“Tomura…” You only moan, breath catching as he hits that spot inside you that he knows so well.

Tomura is smiling, wild and devious, as you look up at him with glossy eyes, so close to crying from the feelings, “I’m gonna do it. I’ll make you mine forever and you can’t do anything about it.”

“Ah!” You should stop him, tell him to calm down but he has your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your back arching off of the bed. Everything is blurring together and you can only slur words as the drool from your earlier kiss trails down your cheek.

You are completely at his mercy like this and you know your friends would be beyond disappointed.

It just feels so good the way his cock drags in and out of your body pulling moans and whines from your throat. He was relentless in the way he pounded into you — beyond the point of being soft and slow because he knows that’s exactly you like it.

“Say you want it.” The command comes with the slowing of his hips and you whine, high and needy as Tomura slows to a near stop.

“Tomura, I—“

“Say you want it or I swear to god I’ll stop right now.” It’s a threat and you don’t want to find out if he’ll go through with it. Tomura never goes back on his word.

“No, please, don’t— I want it!” you pant, frustrated and aching for more movement.

“I want you to,” you stammer, desperate to have your release. “I don’t care if you cum in me. I need you so bad.”

“That’s my girl,” He coos, dipping his head down onto your shoulder, “Fuck.. love you s’much”

You stop — you’ve never heard him say that. Ever. You doubted he would ever say it since it’s been so long.

He doesn’t give you a chance to ruminate on it because he's picking up the pace again and giving you the friction you were so deeply in need of. The feelings are swimming in your head as your cries reach new heights. Tomura is too far gone to stop you or care and you’re thankful. You couldn’t stop yourself if you tried.

The build of your orgasm crashes down and sends you with it, making your thighs quiver in pleasure and your eyes squeeze shut. Tomura’s mouth meets yours before you could cry out, the warmth of his tongue guiding you as he fucked you through it.

He didn’t last long after, the way your walls tightened around him with the force of your orgasm has Tomura’s pace erratic as he chased his own high.

The bed shook as Tomura finally finished, hips stuttered as he released inside of you, hot seed coating your insides and making heat rise to your cheeks. He really did it.

You watch as he slows to a stop above you, his eyes closed as he enjoys the feeling of release. Tomura’s breathing was heavy and you couldn’t stop yourself from bringing him down into another kiss, traveling from his lips to his cheeks and then back again.

It was intimate and you were worried it may have been too much, given the reason you were both in this situation was because of a stupid breakup.

Tomura’s pulls out of you, making you wince and taking the feeling of being so full away from you. He doesn’t go far, opting to stay on top of you and rest his head on your shoulder, wanting to keep you as close as possible.

“You really piss me off.” He mumbles into your shoulder, out of breath and tired. “God, why can’t you just stay with me.”

“Tomura…” Your hands run through his hair, the sweat is making it stick to his forehead as you wait for him to keep talking.

“Stop leaving me.” His voice is firm, unwavering.

“You told me to go.”

“I didn’t think you fucking would. I would never actually want you to.”

“I can’t read between the lines Tomura, I’m not in your head.” You make him look at you this time, pulling his hair a little to get him to raise his head. “Did you mean it?”

“I just said I didn’t—“

“No, the other thing you said.” He gives you a look of pure confusion and you lose a little bit of hope, “when you said you loved me?”

You stare into his carmine eyes, hoping, praying it wasn’t just pillow talk from the heat of the moment.

He looks at you for a long time, frustration still wearing on his features. If you didn’t know any better you would say he was pouting. “Of course I meant it. I’ve always felt like that.”

“But you’ve never said it!”

“I show it!”

“How?” This is getting frustrating and going in circles.

He groans, sitting up and taking his warmth with him. “I’m not going to sit here and list everything I’ve ever done for you. I don’t think it works like that.”

You open your mouth to counter, irritation on your tongue because that’s not what you meant, but Tomura stops you again.

“I don’t know how to explain it, okay?” He shakes his head and sighs, laying next to you on the bed and looking up at his ceiling. “It’s weird. I have these strong feelings, but it’s not hate, it's not anger. It's the opposite of that.”

You stare at him as he focuses ahead, keeping his eyes trained on the uninteresting ceiling above.

“Father said it’s a weakness and I should feel that way but,” There’s a pause as he looks away from the ceiling, meeting your eyes finally, “if it’s so weak of me, then why are the feelings so strong?”

Your heart aches. It's clear that he’s torn, and with the strange way he was raised you know that he can’t help the way he is.

“Tomura…”

“And it won’t go away. I can’t fight them down or push them away like I can with everything else. It eats me up and I… guess I lash out because of it.” He shakes his head and for the first time Tomura looks defeated. You’ve never seen him this way — he’s always been filled with confidence and self assured. “I just don’t know what to do.”

You bring a hand to his cheek as you press your forehead against his. It kills you that this is what’s been on his mind and you aren’t sure what you could do to fix it. Maybe there was nothing you could do, physically, but you would do your best to be there for him emotionally.

“Sometimes,” you try to be careful with your words, knowing how much Tomura looks up to his foster father even though the man has been nothing but strange to him. “People say things that aren’t true because they don’t know how to live with it.”

Tomura’s guardian cannot live with love nor the idea of it.

“That doesn't mean you have to live that way.”

And it’s the truth.

Tomura doesn’t say anything, just watches you with heavy lidded eyes, ruby red nearly glowing in the low light of the room. He was so much more than what people thought they knew of him and you didn’t care if it took time for others to see that.

He leans in, closing his eyes and you meet him halfway into a kiss.

It's warm and it's soft and you know that even when your phone is buzzing from dozens of missed calls and texts from your friends, it will be fine.

You and Tomura would take things one day at a time.

#shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki tomura x you #shigaraki tomura x reader #tomura x reader #mha x reader #my works #tomura shigaraki smut #shigaraki smut #shigaraki tomura smut #tomura shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki x you

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hyperfixiation-station · 2 months

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🥺 hi. I get so anxious asking for requests. So I’m sorry if it’s weird. But could I please please Pleaseee get a ghost x fem reader. Hurt to comfort. They were on a mission and she’s there for medic help. Not even to fight. But she got taken by the bad guys. And she gets tortured for information that she doesn’t have. And they play mind games with her. Making her think that they will never come rescue her. They really fully break her body and break her mind by the end of it. But before she thinks she’s about to finally die, Ghost and the others come and save her. And it’s about how the only person she feels safe with after all that is ghost and just him helping her heal and get back to the woman she was before all this. I want it to hurt my soul. 😭 but then there’s hope at the end of it bc they have each other.

My Heart Will Go On

Don't be, I love when people ask me things, and I looooved this request so much!!! I too like to torturehave fun with my OC's :)

TW: Blood, torture, manipulation

Pairing: GhostxReader

Part 2

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. It wasn’t supposed to happen at all, actually. It was just another mission, another day on the job. You went out with the boys as usual, their assigned medic as theyghost refused to work with anybody else. You weren’t sure why. Maybe it was your soft demeanor, your gentle touch, the way you never judged himthem for anything hethey did. But whatever it was, they liked you, and so with them you went.

You hung back at the evac point, also as usual. Sitting in the truck, first aid kit on your lap, a comm in your ear as you listened to your boys and made sure they were all okay. It was a tense fight, gunshots and pained grunting filling your headset. You were on edge, rocking back and forth as you listened for your que to come in. In fact, you were so focused on the comms that you didn’t even notice the danger you were in until it was too late.

Your first cue something was wrong was when the comms went silent. The sounds of battle filled your ears for hours before getting cut off abruptly. Your hand shot to the comm link, fiddling with it as you frantically tried to reconnect, worried something was wrong.

“Ghost, do you copy?”

“Ghost?”

“Price?”

“Gaz?”

“Can you hear me??” Your voice got more and more panicked as you got no response. You yanked the headset off and shrugged your vest on, kit in hand as you slid out of the truck.

Your second clue something was wrong was when you looked up to see the barrel of a gun pointed directly at your face. You didn't even have time to ask ‘what’ before everything went dark.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hello, princesa.” You blink hard as the blindfold is removed from your eyes. The light is blinding, the splitting headache you got from being pistol whipped only intensifying under the harsh lights.

“Who are you?” You manage after a moment, eyes slowly focusing on the man in front of you. He is large, easily over six foot, and built like an absolute unit. His face is covered by a black balaclava, though his scarred, tattooed forearms are on display.

“Don’t play stupid with me.” His voice is deep and smooth, and if you weren’t in the situation you are in you would have asked him to keep talking.

“‘M not! I don't-"

“Don’t lie to me Princesa. I don’t like liars.” A shiver runs down your spine as his tone darkens.

“But I’m-”

“Ah ah lovie, I am one asking questions here.”

“I wasn’t ask-”

“SHUT UP!” You flinch back at the drastic change in tone, the sound sending bolts of pain through your skull.

“Oh sorry Princesa, did that hurt?” Seriously, you are going to get whiplash from his bi-polar personality, “Forgot you have concussion. Let's get you Advil for that and then we see if you talk, yeah?"

You watch with blurry vision as he leaves the room, slamming the door shut behind him. The sound sends waves of agony through your pounding head, and by the time you can focus again he's back.

All it takes is one well placed blow to the head, an attempt to get you to pay attention, and you're out like a light.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I don’t know anything I swear! Please! I don't know anything!” The sobs tear raggedly out of your throat, already raw from screaming. Your voice is scratchy and broken, but still you can't stop begging.

“I don’t know anything” You sob. Those words, I don’t know, had become your motto over the past few daysweeks(?)

“Oh Princesa. I know.” He croons, running a finger down your bruised face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Time was meaningless. Has it been 2 days since you were captured? Two weeks? Months? You don’t know. Your meals come at staggered times, and your captors never come at a routine time. The lights turn on and off at staggered times, nothing in a set pattern, a system created to mess with your mind.

Not that you know that. This wasn’t the kind of life you lived. You were a medic for heaven's sake. Your hands had been built to mend, to fix, to heal. Not to clutch at broken bones, to scratch against cement, to be chained and broken. You arewere a gentle creature, not designed for this world of torture and terror.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"They no come for you." You moan as the words pound through your skull, nearly unintelligible.

"Wh'...y'say?" You mumble, voice scratchy and broken.

"You're friends, Princesa. They are no coming for you." He sighs and moves next you, prodding your side with his steel-toed boot, "You are replaceable, your skills are easily replicated, they no spend time and resources to find a simple medic."

"They…'ll c'me." You wheeze, refusing to belive that Price, that Gaz, that Soap, that Ghost, would just...leave you.

He laughs in response, digging his toe into your side until your gasping in pain.

"We shall see, Princesa. We shall see."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You weren’t built for this. Weren’t built to recognize the manipulation, the mind games. Weren’t built to survive the two-face man who was reshaping your brain. The man who was your greatest source of pain, but also your only friend. The man that flayed your flesh open, but soothed and bandaged you when it was all over. This man, who was slowly becoming the only thing you could trust in your unstable world. He may bring you unbearable pain, but he brought you comfort too.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"That looks bad, Princesa." The man lightly touches the bones sticking out of your forearm. You whine in pain, clutching it to your chest. He chuckles, wiping your blood off on the cell floor.

"Let's get that fixed up, yeah?" His voice is soft, and gentle, and the nicest thing you've heard in a loooong time. His touch is the same, gentle caresses of bruised and broken skin, revolting and appealing at the same time.

Oh, it's utter agony as he sets and stitches your arm with no pain killers. You scream, back arching, lungs heaving, body seizing.

But after? Oh it's heaven. He holds you, cradling you against his warm body, making sure you don't go into shock, telling you you're a good girl, and that you've made him proud. You hate yourself for it, but you can't help but preen at the praise.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He brings you a calendar. One month. It’s been one month since you got taken.

“It’s been over a month.” He says, a deep voice tinged with pity, “and no sign of your…friends. I’d give up being rescued if I were you, because they clearly have.” You can barely hear him as you stare at the paper in his hands, 31 days marked off with big, bright X’s. 31 days that you have been trapped here. 31 days that your squad…hadn’t come for you. Is he right? Are they really not coming? Did Ghost really give up on you? Are you-

“Ay Princesa, I even did what you asked. I sent your squad pictures and videos that even the greenest tech member could pull some coordinates from, but nothing. It’s like I said. Your ‘friends’ don’t care for you. They are not coming for you. I am your only friend in this place. Tell me, who bandages your wounds, who feeds you, who makes sure your living space is comfortable?”

“Y-you do.” You whisper uncertainty, “But…you also hurt me, don’t you?”

“Oh Princesa, I wouldn’t hurt ya if y’ would just listen. It not torture if you're disobedient. It's just…punishment.” His voice is sickeningly sweet, “And you just back-talked me. Do you remember what happens when you try to give me sass?”

"I get…punished." You mumble, cheeks flushing with shame.

"Obviously, you fucking idiot. I mean how."

"I…you…I have to do affirmations."

"Look at that, y'r gettin' it!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Say it again." He snarls. You sit in front of a mirror, face bruised, bleeding, and swollen.

"I 'm r'pl'c'able, my friends…'re n-no'...c'min'...I 'm no' l'v'ble…I 'm r'pl'c'…able." You whisper for the hundredth time.

"Again."

"I 'm r'pl'c'able, my friends 're no'...c'min'...I 'm no' l'vable, I 'm r'pl'c'…able."

"Again!"

"I 'm r'pl'c'able, my friends 're no'...c'min'...I 'm no' l'vable, I 'm r'pl'c'…able."

He makes you keep going, repeating those 4 sentences until you literally can't make sound anymore, a fact he tests by seeing how much it takes to get you to scream. You pass out before he gets anywhere.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Ghost?"

"Simon?"

"Please."

"Why are you not coming for me?"

just FYI if the timing seems disjointed and the speech is wierd, that is intentiweird,

anyways I hope you liked it!!!!

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haknom · 2 months

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NEVER AGAIN — SIM JAKE

SYNOPSIS: fake dating your best friend to get back at each other’s exes was one thing, but falling in love without him liking you back? never doing that again.

PAIRING: fake-bf!jake x gn!reader

WARNINGS: unrequited love and angst. WORDCOUNT: 672 words

NOTE: wasn’t even supposed to be sad LMAO but if i ever write a fic on this… don’t be shocked.

“YOU’RE GRIPPING TOO HARD, IT HURTS.” YOU WHISPERED, PLACING YOUR HANDS ON TOP OF JAKE’S.

“Oh, my fault. Is this better?” He asked softly as you nodded at the looser grip. His hands gently held your waist as you wrapped your arms loosely around his neck

The two of you moved to the rhythm of the song that played in the banquet hall.

Honestly, you and Jake weren’t a serious couple. Both of you were previously friends who decided to come together and make your exes jealous.

Which only helped to explain why you two were each other’s prom date.

“Do you even know how to dance?” He asked, hinting at the way your feet continuously stumbled over one another.

“Hey. Yes I do.” You said, narrowing your eyes at the boy in front of you.

“Just not like this…” You mumbled.

“Yeah, right.” He teased while scoffing. He stopped his movements and adjusted his hands that rested around your waist.

“Here, follow my movements.”

Jake’s voice was clear and tender as he took a step to the left. You looked at him confused and he nodded his head with a smile.

“Just follow.” He whispered while moving again, causing you to look at your formal shoes and his black Oxford’s.

You followed the path he created until you two were moving in sync.

“See, it isn’t that hard.” Jake said as you hummed in response and smiled.

You were actually having fun for once.

A few moments of silence passed through the space between both of you, but luckily, it wasn’t awkward.

It was comforting.

However, it wasn’t long before it was interrupted.

Jake looked up at the sound of chuckles and grimaced at the sight.

“Don’t you feel annoyed?” He asked as you looked up from the ground.

“What?” You replied, confused. He cocked his head at the two who danced with one another and smiled at each other like there was no tomorrow.

You shifted your gaze to where he stared. Turns out, he was referring to your ex and ex-best friend.

Usually, you would feel a sharp strike at your heart when you saw the two together, but right now, you didn’t.

“Not really.” You replied, eyes still on the two, causing Jake to look at you with knitted brows.

“What do you mean?” He asked.

“Even if she was my friend for most of my life…” You paused, looking back at the boy.

“So were you,” you explained, “I might’ve lost a friend and a possible lover, yet I’m not as phased anymore.”

“Because I might’ve fallen in love with you,” was what you wanted to say last, but couldn’t.

“Because I still have you, right? That’s enough for me.” You said instead, not wanting to make things awkward.

He was probably still hung up on his ex-girlfriend, and judging from the way he rolled his eyes when he saw her and her new boyfriend together, you definitely weren’t wrong.

“Well, I am.” Jake said in a harsh tone as you tilted your head in confusion.

“I still hate seeing those two together.” He explained, his hands tightening around your waist again.

“Jake, too tight.” You winced, trying to shimmy out of his grip.

“Oh, right. Sorry.” He apologized with a sheepish laugh.

Yes, the sound made your heart flutter, yet you knew anything you did wouldn’t have an affect on him.

“Here, let’s take a break. Would you like something to drink or eat?” Jake asked, removing his hands completely.

It would be nice to get a break from your heart constantly thumping at an immense pace.

So, you nodded at his request in agreement. He flashed a smile at you once more before leaving to visit the serving table as you returned a more awkward one.

Once he was gone, you looked over at your ex and your ex-best friend, then at Jake’s ex-girlfriend and her new boyfriend and sighed.

Wow, was this what unrequited love felt like? If so, you hated it.

Never again.

Ξ ©HAKNOM, 2024

PERM TAGLIST — @soov @urszn @hanniluvi @dakkisz @dimplewonie @xiaoderrrr @ja4hyvn @mmaplepastries @essmarye @w3bqrl @jennaissantes @yenqa @yeokii @yyunari @wvnkoi @isoobie @lovrqis @gibbysupremeacyisreal @rikizm @teddywonss @100203s @yizhoutv @yuviqik @itsactuallylina @i-yeseo @flwoie @shinrjj @moons-v @rikibun @baekhyunstruly @haechansbbg @cholexc @flolio @winuvs @weoris @mlaren @sunooluuvr @aespaslut @kaypanaq

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slyratex · 2 months

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DUMB

I had always been a smart guy. IQ 180, an all As student, summa cum laude graduate, one of the youngest scientists in my faculty.

That is, until I was challenged by one of the jocks from my old school to listen to his favourite song. I had always looked down onto him for his simple taste in music and now he dared me to listen to it without giving in to the beat. ‚You cant judge what you don‘t know, right? That‘d be so stupid!‘, he mocked me when I hesitated, not knowing what I could gain from listening to something else than Mozart or Vivaldi.

I couldn‘t leave this challenge without reply, so I took the bet and listened to that tune of some guy called ‚Timmy Trumpet‘. https://youtu.be/D4m737SW2yc?si=upG5zB5Y_HKoKA9y After just one second I knew I hated this style of music. But I had to keep going to not lose the bet, so I decided to just endure this test.

‚I play my games, you work away the day! You’re blowing up your brains for something smart to say!‘

Yes, that‘s me.

‚But I don’t wanna know it, rather focus on the fun!‘

Yes, that‘s him.

‚So you can go ahead and call me dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb!‘

I‘d definitely do that.

‚Dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb!‘

Did they have to repeat it so often? I just counted 26 times! Well, I think that‘s because the typical audience of that supposed ‚artist‘ can‘t memorise more lyrics than that. But just as I was thinking that, an image of said artist flashed before my eyes, looking at me as if he was swearing revenge for insulting him.

‚But I don’t wanna know it rather focus on the fun! So you can go ahead and call me dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb!‘

34! I caught my feet going with the beat and instantly stopped it. No chance he was winning this bet!

‚Dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb!‘

55! I suddenly felt like I had forgotten something. But I couldn‘t figure out what it was.‘

‚Call me dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb!‘

76! I recognised that strange feeling was connected to a drop. A drop? A drop of what? A drop of temperature? No, it was actually getting rather hot and I felt the urge to pull of my shirt.‘

‚Call me dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb!‘

97! Was it the beat dropping? Hell, yeah! Timmy Trumpet always dropped the beat like a pro! I didn‘t even know what dropping the beat meant, being new to all this, but who cared?

‚Call me dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb!‘

118! I suddenly realised what was dropping, but it was too late. With every ‚dumb‘, my IQ was dropping down! Something told me it had to be… like… half a point per repetition? Damn, that sounded like math… how many ‚dumb’s had there been? Divided by two… damn, this is hard… and subtracted from… and… 121!?! That‘s barely scratching the mark for being highly intelligent! Come on, this has to be a bad joke!

‚I’m just a jerk in the world of the dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb!‘

123. A jerk. One, two, three. Just a jerk. Yeah, these are numbers I can work with. A jerk in the world of the dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb. I couldn‘t stop going along with the lyrics while my old class mate smiled at me like a silly jerk.

‚I’ve got a worth in the world of the dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb!‘

128 ‚dumb’s and my IQ dropped down to 114, only one standard deviance over average. No, I can‘t let him do that to me! I’m special! I have a worth in the world of the smart and educated! I‘ve got inventions to create and discoveries to make!

‚I won’t be the one you want!‘

Right!

‚If you can’t be one with dumb!‘

Oh, damn! I have to be one with dumb! Wait, that doesn‘t even make sense grammatically!‘

‚Cause I’m just a jerk in the world of the dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb!‘

134! Ha! One, three, four! Haha! Did I forget one number? Hahaha! Who cares? I‘m just a jerk!

Suddenly I found myself singing out loud along with the song:

‚I play my games you work away the day! You’re blowing up your brains for something smart to say!‘

Stupid nerds wasting their time with work and learning when there are weights to be lifted, parties to be held, holes to be filled!

‚But I don’t wanna know it rather focus on the fun!‘

They‘re the stupid ones. I‘m the genius, because I don‘t waste time trying to be one!

‚So you can go ahead and call me dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb!

And my jerk bro joined in, both of us jumping and partying like idiots:

‚Dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb! But I don’t wanna know it rather focus on the fun! So you can go ahead and call me dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb!‘

169! Hahaha! 69! So good! I laughed. I didn’t even know why. I just had fun. I didn’t even count anymore. And the beat dropped, and my IQ dropped, all down to 95, and we dropped our shirts and showed off our jock bodies. And while all of it dropped down, Timmy Trumpet bowed down, as an artist having finished another masterpiece.

And I bowed down in front of him, thanking him, laying my drained out IQ points to the ground before him, giving my life to him to never have any goals again than getting swole and partying half naked to his great songs.

‚Call me dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb!‘

And as the song faded, my favourite song from my favourite artist, my thoughts faded into simplicity, my IQ settling at a comfy 85, one standard deviance below average, right before the beginning of a light learning disability. Not that I was interested in complex stuff like that anymore. Or even able to comprehend it. All I knew was that I had reached the jerk spot, that sweet spot right between your everyday stupidity and concerning imbecility, where I was still able to manage my daily routine and training plans, but was assured to get a headache from hard stuff like… doing equations and reading science stuff. So I think I‘ll make sure to stay far away from that shit from now on!

I put the song on repeat to make my IQ click into place and lock it where it was to make sure I‘d never lose that silly happiness and fun a jerk like me enjoyed. And I proudly sang along:

‚Call me dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb!‘

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sc0tters · 29 days

Text

Muffin Baskets and Frozen Meals | Jack Hughes

summary: when telling Jack how you felt actually went well.

paring: Jack Hughes x Devils Media Member!

request: yes/no

warnings: none?

word count: 1.89k

authors note: planned for this to be a quick blurb and then it became this. will say that I do love it and I was definitely needing more of this soft man like this today 🥺 did something different with parts of it so I’m not sure if it will land but I look forward to how you guys like soft Jack!

You felt like you were going to throw up.

Jack hadn’t been at practice for the last few days after he went to get surgery on his shoulder “you know he likes you right?” Luke smiled as he had gotten close to you in your opening season with the team.

It made you shake your head as you jumped “I don’t like him.” Your cheeks turned a crimson shade of red as the younger boy laughed in response.

The boys all spent the season watching your crush on Jack develop, it was hard not to when you would be left with a grin each time he approached you. But they didn’t notice your side of the crush first as they were far more focused on Jack’s new desire to apart oof everything that the media team needed extra players for.

The first time they noticed it was when you guys had to do the passing the phone trend. One player was needed at the end to say a line about passing the phone to the fans yet none of the girls wanted to ask the players “should I be offended that you haven’t asked me to be in the video peach?” Jack let his lips curve upright as he watched you look up from your iPad.

You tucked your hair behind your ears as you smiled “wanted to save the best role for you.” You explained making his smile grow wider into a toothy grin.

He started calling you peach after the first day when you bumped into him with a bag of sour peach rings in your hand and since that moment you were his peach and he was bringing you a new bag of candy each week “really?” He cocked his head watching her nod eagerly.

The boy naturally agreed and the team watched you pull him with ease to a quieter area of the practice facility “so do we think that he has had a change of heart or that he just thinks that the new girl is hot?” Curtis was the first to speak up from the group that watched the interaction go down.

Judging by the way your hand interlocked with his, Dawson swore that something clearly happened between you and the Hughes boy before “how do we know she doesn’t have a crush on him too?” He shot back causing a chorus of ahh’s to come from around him as the boys began to agree.

Nico just rolled his eyes “next one to talk about either of their love lives is getting extra laps.” As the words left the captains mouth it seemed like the gathering dispersed leaving Luke to awkwardly look up at the captain “I didn’t say a thing!” He whined as the Swiss man pointed to the door leading to the ice.

Jack swore he was slick in masking his crush on you. Sure he offered to do whatever you needed in the form of social media content, something he never did for anyone else. But maybe he was just trying to be your friend.

The all star game had arrived and given that you were in good books with both Jesper and Jack. The team opted to send you with. This was the first time that the fans finally drew the connection. Because after weeks of trying to figure out who was so special on the social media team.

But then they finally got to see the fan clips of you and Jack making fun of Jesper and it was like the puzzle pieces connected for everyone. All of a sudden fans were finding you and just like Jack, you had flurry of people who liked you “someone’s popular.” Jack teased hearing your phone go off again.

It made you send him a glare as you wanted to kick his shin “you jealous Hughes?” You quipped back letting your teeth catch at your lip.

He laughed as he shook his head “the attention they give you is nothing like what you get from me.” Jack pointed out with a smirk as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

Both of those memories replayed in your mind as you swore the boys were lying to you. It made you conflicted as to what you were meant to write in Jacks get well soon card as it was the final practice of the season and you were going to give the stuff to Luke to give to his brother.

Your tongue darted out of your mouth as you tried to think of how to start the card “now I’m no genius but most people usually start a card with dear and then the persons name.” Nico pointed out as he looked over the wall of your office cubicle.

His words made you jump as your head shot up “wondered how long it would take for you to see me.” He teased making you roll your eyes “nice to see you too Nico.” You mumbled watching him sit in the seat in front of you.

The captain pulled out a set of keys and before you could ask what was going on he handed you one of them “this is for his place.” Nico explained making your eyes go wide “I am not breaking in!” You shook your head not impressed that he offered.

He shrugged as he leaned back in his seat “technically it’s not breaking in if I said you could go.” Luke’s head popped out from the wall next making you his your face in your hand “how many of you are there?” You were scared to know the answer.

So instead you got to see just how many boys there were as Curtis, John, Timo and Dawson all smiled at you “please go put us out of our misery and tell each other how you feel!” Timo begged making the boys nod in agreement.

Your cheeks turned red as you went to complain “and don’t tell me you don’t like him again because the only person who can’t see it anymore is him.” Nico placed his hand on your knee as he took the card from you “you can give these to him in person so you don’t need this.” He explained as you got up.

It made the boys want to let out a silent cheer “now if he turns me down I will kill you all.” You warned making them salute you off as they knew it wasn’t the case “just to be clear we are all changing our locks now if she knows he has keys?” Dawson trailed off with a gulp.

“Definitely.”

Jack was scrolling through the tv bored out of his mind as he heard the knock at the door “who is it?” He called out muting the sound “peaches!” You called feeling weird hearing your own name be brought up in a conversation with him.

The Hughes boy practically jumped off of the couch “hey.” Jack smiled as he opened the door.

It gave you the rare glance you adored to look at his chest “what are you doing here?” He added as he cocked his head.

You felt like your mouth ran dry “came to give you these.” You explained holding up the muffin basket for him to see.

He nodded motioning for you to come in “and I wanted to check on you.” Your words made both of your tender hearts swell with joy “real sweet of ya peach.” The hockey player was beyond curious to see what you let into your basket.

But suddenly he stopped as he headed for his kitchen “was gonna make Luke give you these.” Jack explained as he handed you a bag of peach rings.

“There is something I need to tell you.”

The words came from both of you at the same time “you should go first.” Jack announced giving you the floor to talk.

It made you want to glare at him “I like you a lot.” Your words sounded really weird “like a lot more than I should as someone who works for the devils.” You added making his facial expressions soften.

But as you heard pure silence you thought the worst “god I made this so bad have I?” As panic settled into your system the boy shook his head.

Jack smiled as he pointed to the bag of peach rings. It made you look down all confused until you saw that the bag had I LIKE YOU printed on the front of it “Jack you better not fuck with me.” You warned as you shook your head.

It made him roll his eyes “trust me for that price I am not.” His words were soft as he walked over to you.

The gap between you both quickly began nothing as you looked up at him “so what do you say about staying over for a bit?” He asked cupping your cheek “we can order pizza and watch a movie.” Jack offered as you leaned forward to kiss him instead.

It was a delicate kiss as if you were too afraid that if any passion slipped into it you’d both end up waking from this perfect dream. So instead you both basked in the beauty that came from knowing how his lips left against yours.

Jack could taste your cherry lipgloss on his tongue as he looked at you “are we sure we want pizza?” You asked letting your fingers run up his chest.

His good arm wrapped around your waist “because I have been told I make a mean frozen lasagna.” You announced with such cheek that it made him laugh as a smile spread on your face.

The boy looked at his kitchen “well then I think it’s good we have everything accept the lasagna.” Jack pointed out letting his forehead rest against yours as you both inhaled wanting to not let the moment ever end.

You pretended to think about it for a second “last time I checked you had a brother who was out still.” Your words made his eyes grow wide “I love you.” Jack confessed as he kissed your lips once more before he reached for his phone.

It wasn’t that you hadn’t heard him because you did, but for the first time you weren’t running away from love as that night as he lay resting against your stomach you’d tell him the same three words back. And that was how, the perfect love story -as Nico calls it when he tells your kids the story of the team got you two together.- came to be known.

If someone told you that the meal that would get you into your future husband’s dreams was going to be a frozen lasagna. They would have been wrong. Jack was so in love with you that you could have served up burnt ramen and he would have eaten it.

Life for the two of you finally blossomed together on that day as two paths merged into one. A story that no longer had all these different endings, where you were with different people.

Jack was your person and you were his. So even know after all of the things you have been through in family and in hockey, you did it together.

With the help of your frozen lasagna.

#jack Hughes x reader #jack hughes x you #jack Hughes imagines #jack Hughes Oneshots #nhl oneshots #nhl imagines #hockey imagines #hockey oneshots #amber writes fics #jack hughes imagine

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ninapi · 8 months

Text

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ Daddy Issues ❜┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌

Premise: Toji, now being a single father has no idea how to raise a child on his own. His beautiful younger neighbor hears the baby crying every night, coming to his aid in more than one way.

Word count: 4365

Note: Just had the need to mention that there is no smut in this story before you start reading. lol.

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

Fushiguro Toji was anything in this world but a loving and understanding parent.

Having to deal with a year-old baby on his own wasn’t his idea of fun and didn’t even know where to start.

When his wife was still alive, she was the one in charge of the kid, he barely knew how to change his diaper, and even that didn’t look to be just right. But he had no one to depend on, to ask for help, all his ‘friends’ were in the same business as he was and the women lurking around him at the bar don’t seem like good mother material.

Every night looked the same for him, the walls of his cramped tiny apartment constantly shaking with the loud wails of his infant child, he had no idea why the baby was crying, nor how to make him stop. His headaches turned into migraines and the little patience he had within him evaporated.

“Megumi, can you please, please, shut up? I’m begging you, I’ve never begged anyone in this life anything, please just sleep….” his voice came out louder than he anticipated, making you jump from your bed.

You lived next door and were having a hard time trying to sleep as well, the paper-thin walls that separated you from the distressed baby not doing much to stop the sound from coming.

You’ve worried for him for months now, you were aware the mother had passed, yet you’ve only seen your neighbor twice after that, and in all truth, he looked like someone who wasn’t interested in getting to know the people in the building and share a cup of tea or two.

But that was it, you’ve had enough.

Working wasn’t exactly easy when you’ve had only a couple of hours to sleep, and the poor baby, why was he always crying?

Initially you thought he was alone even, until this moment when you heard his father yell at him.

You understand his frustration really, but you should never talk like that to a baby. As if on cue, the baby just started crying louder, scared by his dad’s anger display.

Tying a robe around your body, you walked outside your apartment, knocking on the foreign door beside your own.

Toji’s face when he saw you on the other side wasn’t one of anger, was more one of despair. He had blackish bags under his eyes, his cheeks were hollow, his head looked like a bird had nested on it and his shirt was full of what looked like baby vomit.

Not the prettiest sight.

“What do you want?”

“Excuse me sir, I’m your neighbor, (Y/N). Seemed to me like your child was having some troubles to sleep…I’m a certified pre-school teacher, so I was wondering if there was anything I could do to help…” the soft smile on your face was almost blinding, were you an angel sent by the heavens to rescue him from his demise? Did he even believe in angels? Because now, he certainly does.

Without uttering a single word, he moved to the side, leaving space for you to go into his apartment, immediately collapsing on the couch right after.

The baby was in his crib, his throat raw from screaming. His little onesie matched his dad’s shirt soiled with old milky vomit; his diaper as full and heavy as it could be.

No wonder he was crying like this.

“I will be using your bathroom. Where do you keep his clothing?” he pointed to a cardboard box laying next to his crib, earning a scowl from you. You were honestly in no position to judge him, he lost his wife not long ago and his job was of a dubious nature, but this were no conditions for a child to grow up into.

Grabbing the only clean looking onesie you could find, you took the baby into the bathroom and gave him a very much refreshing bath, his hair was all sticky and his nails way too long. You took care of that as well and got him into his clean pj’s in record time. Quickly moving to get some milk warmed up and in his zippy cup all before Toji could even realize what was going on.

But one thing was clear for him.

Megumi wasn’t crying anymore.

In fact, he just heard him giggle, which made him look up at you. He was in your arms, and you kept on bouncing him while he drank some warm delicious goodness, his little cheek nuzzling your own, sleep clad in his beautiful, rounded eyes.

You got there less than twenty minutes ago, and Megumi was now asleep.

How was this possible? He’s been trying for months, and he only sleeps when he passes out from crying too much…

You placed his little blanky over him, caressing his hair until you were sure he wasn’t going to wake up anytime soon, then headed over to his father, speaking in a quiet small voice, “There. He was too dirty, babies tend to be very picky with this sort of stuff, just make sure to change his diaper more often and change his clothing when dirty. Also, his onesies are too small for him now, you need to buy him larger clothing, it hurts his little legs, so I left the buttons open.” Toji was staring at you like you were some sort of goddess who came to tame his little beast, this was no easy fit, he was just as fierce as his dad…

“He’s a lovely well behaved baby boy, I’m sure he won’t give you many troubles.” that, however, made him scoff. “HA! He’s a little dirty beast, that’s what he is! All he does is scream and poop.” his loud outburst made Megumi cry once again, his father annoying you more than the poor tired child, “Tch, don’t be so loud!”

He was smirking your way instead of feeling offended, now you’d see what kind of a beast his child is. Or so he thought, because Megumi stopped crying once in your arms, his face pressed to your chest enjoying its softness and warmth, leaving Toji speechless with his mouth gaping.

“Such a good boy you are~” the child refused to leave the comfort of your chest, making you sit on the filthy couch that reeked of beer to wait for his slumber to come back.

“What do they teach in pre-school? Is it some sort of magic? He’s never acted this way, not even when his mother was alive.” his reply made you chuckle, petting the baby’s tiny back in the process. “Hmm…we teach them the days of the week, how to cut and practice writing, how to tend plants, how to color, things like that.” humoring him this far was more than what he is used to with other women, they usually just want him for cash and a fun lusty night, but they’ve never cared to talk like this with him, he was an intimidating man after all.

“Pfft and how does that make my son stop crying? Stop it, spill the beans, how did you do it?” he sat by your side, the sly smirk on his lips never leaving his rough, handsome face.

“I just got him cleaned up and fed, that’s all.” the sound of your voice made the boy snuggle deeper into your bosom, drooling all over the patch of skin that was in view.

Toji’s eyes were on his every move, a sudden wave of understanding hitting him hard, “I see…he’s definitely my son…” his loud cackles made Megumi stir and got you to frown once more. This time though, you didn’t need to scold him, he got it just by looking at your angered face. “Sorry, sorry…he just looked so comfy, of course anybody would sleep just fine there.” his jokes made you blush, quite an unexpected thing in such situation.

He was a handsome man, there was no human out there that would dare to argue that. Yet, he was definitely older and had some serious cleanliness issues, not entirely your type but aggravating nonetheless.

“Would you consider being his nanny? I could pay you double what you make in that pre-school of yours…” tempting offer, but you loved your job and weren’t looking for a new one.

“My son is clearly in love with you, I don’t think he’d accept anyone else…and you live next door so you wouldn’t have to spend money by going to work.” One of his chubby, calloused fingers came a little to close to your chest startling you, though, his aim was to clean his child’s drool before it landed again on your silky skin, it was a heartwarming scene.

“I can’t leave my job, they need me. Though, I only work the morning shift, so I’m back by noon. I can help, at least until you get used to the single parenting thing.” you said all this while looking at his child with such tender eyes that he just couldn’t say no to your proposal, he works late mostly anyways, sounded like a good deal.

“I would appreciate that.” his demeanor had changed for the better since you shared the same couch, an understanding like no other found without the need for words.

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The next day your shift got cut short as the children had a previously scheduled trip to the zoo.

Some parents insisted on going as well so you gave them your space in the bus, using your time to clean the playroom, it was time to donate some toys and you had the perfect baby in mind for this.

You gathered a few plushies and age-appropriate books and placed them in your backpack just before leaving for the day.

Remembering the face of despair his dad had when you mentioned getting new clothing for him, you stopped by the store and got him a couple of onesies and other outfits that would actually fit him, you could just give him the receipt, that should be easier for him.

And it was, he had never felt so grateful towards someone in his entire life when he saw all the new things you had for his child.

He isn’t the best dad out there and he’s aware of that, he didn’t really care if he was being honest, he always planned to sell him to the Zenin’s anyways, but raising a child was a pain and he never expected it to be that complicated.

“Can you tell me where the cleaning supplies are, Fushiguro-san? I would like to clean the carpet and the couch, it isn’t good for Gumi to breathe in so much dust.” he nodded, going in circles in his own living room, he didn’t know where they were, if there were any. “Just wait here, I’ll go buy some. Is there anything else you need from the store?”

“Hm…there’s not many diapers left, also it would be nice to have a smaller spoon for him.” going over to find his wallet, he headed out of the door only acknowledging you slightly while you tended his son. It was an intimate conversation and it had him somehow flustered, the big’ol Fushiguro Toji, flushing over the sight of his child chewing on the side of your arm while you checked his fridge. It’s not like he didn’t find his ex-wife attractive, because he did, but she was very different from you, almost as much of a man as he was, you were soft, tender, kind, your round curves and soft features weren’t like the ones he finds in bars and clubs, he needed to get his shit together before he’d end up drooling on you as much as his son.

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

It's been a few weeks since you and Toji officially met and it still amazes him how much his life has changed in such a short period of time.

For the best, mind you.

But the best change in it, he would agree for it to be how much he’s been sleeping lately. Megumi entered a new routine with you, one that makes him sleep always at the same time, without waking up much, meaning Toji also has been getting some very much needed rest.

Even if Toji knows his life has improved, Megumi is the one who’s been enjoying life like no other these days.

Since his dad is in charge of him in the morning, he decided is best to sleep and recharge energy, that way his dad can do his grown up things without much problem and he would get all the play time in the world once you’re back from work.

His diet has improved as well, you found out Toji was feeding him instant ramen and this alerted you beyond words and you made a priority getting him all the nutrients he’s been missing.

His clothes fits, he has new books and toys, clean sheets, in general life was good to him lately.

Though Toji was now expecting you to get tired of this, you did have a job, a tiring one at that and still had to do your own stuff, but you’ve been visiting him daily and staying until Megumi signed off for the night, you must be tired, he knows he would be for sure. And knowing this had him on edge, what would he do without you? Their life is so much better nowadays, is this why people get married? Because he totally gets it now.

He’s been thinking about it all day and now that he’s back from work, he would tell you to feel free to drop this whenever you wanted. True, he didn’t want you to go away any time soon, or ever…but having you in a tight leash without it being your responsibility would just end in you sick and tired of the situation, he wanted to give you options, comfort even.

But when he stepped inside his own apartment, the sight behind the door made his brain to stop working.

You were laying down on his couch, Megumi on top of your belly, slapping your cheeks lovingly while giggling, “MmmMa” he’s been trying since forever but learning new skills without help is almost impossible for a baby, having you around talking to him constantly and encouraging him to talk has been doing wonders for the child, he’s very smart after all.

“Did he just call you mama?” Toji was still by the door, one shoe still on, unable to move from his spot.

“Oh Toji-san! Welcome back, how was work? And honestly I’m not sure, I haven’t told him to call me mama so I don’t know where he got it from.” Your explanation made Toji uncomfortable, he does know where he got it from. For a lack of a better word, he’s been referring to you as such in front of his son, is just complicated to explain a baby that you weren’t his mother, nor sister, nor family even but a simple neighbor, because not even the term ‘friend’ would be accurate. Megumi would call him “Ppa” so it was easier to call you “Mama” for him to understand, and it seemed like it did work, a bit too well for his liking.

“Oh well, he’s a smart kid. He doesn’t remember his mother and you certainly act like one, he’s just a little confused. Sorry if that freaked you out…” rubbing the back of his head he hoped that you wouldn’t notice how he wished that was in fact a reality.

“It didn’t don’t worry. It is normal, for younger kids you know? They call their teachers mama too, it’s happened a few times to me already. Though Gumi is special to me, so I don’t mind it one bit. You though….I hope you know I’m not trying to replace your late wife in any way….” your rosy cheeks were a blessing from the gods, there was no prettier sight out there, he was sure of that. But how much he wishes you were trying to fill in the spot, would remain a secret for a bit longer.

“I know you’re not. But I wouldn’t mind it if you were.” shooting you a flirty wink, he was finally able to move away from the door, the spell you had him under breaking with the blushy display.

“Don’t say that, it would make her sad…” even if you were wiggling on the couch, flushed all the way to your ears, it was still a bit sad, knowing someone lost this wonderful child and handsome husband, you’d be devastated if you’d have to leave a family behind like she was forced to.

“I know you think I’m joking, but I know for sure it wouldn’t. She was….an interesting woman. I just know she would be happy knowing Megumi has someone to look after him and give him the life she knows I can’t give him…he’s so happy and healthy lately, it’s making me think things through…” your heart grew three sizes with his words. In all truth, you’ve been just as happy. Your life used to be boring and pretty empty, your work was the only thing keeping you sane back then, but now? Now you look forward to get on a train and get back home as soon as possible, to see the cute cuddly ball of fluff that was now napping on your chest, you missed him so much when you were working it was crazy, even seeing Toji who came in the package was exciting to you these days.

“Why can’t you though? I know at first when I met you, it would be difficult to picture you as a good dad…but lately…I see how things have changed. I don’t think you need me as much anymore.” there it was…he knew it was coming.

“I’ve managed to make it work only because of you. It’s weird but now I think about what I have to get from the store every day, how many diapers are left, know his favorite snack and the temperature I need to set his bath for, and now I even know which days I have to take out the trash…Megumi’s mother wouldn’t recognize me if she could see me now. And that’s a good thing.” his boisterous laugh made you smile in response. You hoped he still wanted you around, you’ve been just as anxious as he was, thinking the very same thing, what if he didn’t want you close anymore? What if he decides Megumi needed a proper sitter? What if he got himself a girlfriend and the woman didn’t want you visiting every day?

But being objective that was very unlikely, you even got a set of keys for his apartment last week, the keychain had your name engraved and all, just like Toji’s….it was quite clear he wanted you there. And so did the baby in your arms.

“Well, I don’t know her, but I am very much proud of your growth as a father, Toji-san. You just needed to get used to being a dad, I assume is not that easy…”

“It isn’t. But you look more like a mother than his actual one, so I doubt you’d have any troubles if you ever have a kid.” Big words coming from a man like him…he’s been acting strange the past week and it’s starting to worry him a little. His way of speaking has softened, his dirty jokes stopped, he still flirts with you but who wouldn’t when you look so pretty with his son in your arms, it’s impossible to control the beast to that extent, specially on days you came to his house wearing those tiny shorts of yours, he’s turning into a saint, a blue-balled one, and all because of you, he doesn’t want you to freak out and run away, so he’s been behaving as nicely as he can, very unlike his normal self, he’s used to take what he wants when he wants it, but you were that good.

“It’s just Gumi, he’s so adorable and so well behaved….I guess he makes the maternal side of me come out.” your cute giggles not only woke the baby up but lit up a fire in his father’s body. He wanted to hear you closer, suddenly he was envious of his own child and how he was able to lay on you and cuddle your boobs as if they were pillows, the definition of a good life…

“He was nothing like that until you came though…a demon child. I’m his father though, so I guess it makes sense.” giggling some more just for him, you got up to set the child down in his crib, Toji sitting on the couch hoping you’d follow his lead, which you did, sitting right beside him.

“Well if I tamed the demon child, I must try to tame the demon daddy too then.” You’ve never flirted back, he was almost sure you weren’t interested, this was new, and he was not stupid enough to let it go, scooting himself closer to your warmth to encourage you to continue. “I’m untamable, gorgeous, but you can certainly try…” you didn’t move away, coming even closer to him instead. He’s undeniably hot and he’s changed so much, you thought it’d be hell sharing the same space with this man, but was quite the opposite, his house was now clean enough, his fridge full with food, his son fitting in his clothing as he should and his snarky bite had died down as days went by.

Flirting became the norm after that.

Toji never thought of getting another wife, he could get all the women he wanted without getting into a relationship but you changed the picture real quick.

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

The day had come for the Zenin’s to meet Megumi.

Toji had been thinking of selling his child to them basically since the day he was born. Even if he hated them, his kid would be worth way more money than he could count. It’s not like he needed the money for anything, or wanted anything really, yet he kept on betting in silly races as that was the only thing he had to look forward to; before you came to his life of course.

Now he wasn’t so sure anymore.

Not only would he not have an excuse to see you every day without Megumi, but he’s also been getting along way better with his son since your arrival.

At first being a parent was just a nuisance to him, but now it wasn’t as much and not only because he got to see you or because you made his life easier, but because he finally understands what his kid wants and has seen how it feels to have a woman around the house, how nice it is to live in a clean environment, to eat delicious home cooked meals every day, how nice it is to get greeted by the door after a long day at work and how nice it is to be welcomed by cute giggles and warm smiles.

Being a dad wasn’t so bad anymore, nor was it the concept of being a husband.

Refusing to meet the old man was a bold move on his part, he was sure he’d have to pay for that decision at some point, but he just couldn’t bare the thought of giving him and the life they had now away just for some money. He could just take a couple more jobs and make up for it, even if one day Megumi would have to face them straight ahead, that day is still very far from now.

So instead of meeting the old dread, he went over by your school to pick you up and enjoy a nice stroll together on the way home.

The face you made when you saw him and the cute baby half asleep on his shoulders was one to remember.

Joy could be felt within a mile range. You weren’t expecting this, such a nice surprise. “Hello beautiful, got you some of that fancy coffee you like.”handing you the very much needed caffeinated treat, he smiled down at you, a smile like none you’ve seen in the past. He looked so good today, it was doing things to your insides. “Thanks Toji-san I appreciate it. But why are you here? Did something bad happen?”

“Nah, just taking the babe out for some sun…thought of picking up the other babe so she could join us, that’s all…” his confidence was almost intimidating but also very alluring, he was so sexy.

“That does sound fun…” but before you could step out of the school a younger teacher came out looking for you, you dropped your phone and hadn’t even noticed yet. “(Y/N)! Wait! Here, you left this in the class.” her eyes were glued to handsome piece of meat in front of her, annoying you to the point of getting in between the two with a scowl on your face. “Thank you, I didn’t notice. Now if you excuse us….” you leaned closer, taking Megumi off of Toji and into your arms, your free hand landing on Toji’s bicep, in an almost too intense possessive display. Toji on the other hand was thoroughly enjoying this, not only did he have two beautiful women “fighting” for him, but this was the confirmation he was looking for on your end to act upon his feelings.

Taking a hold of your tiny hand in his larger one, he just started walking on the opposite direction, completely ignoring the other girl and dragging his ray of sunshine back home for some quality time together.

Being a dad is complicated.

Being a single dad is even worse.

But thanks to it he found the most wonderful woman the world had to offer .

And yes, he did have some issues to work around still, like his awfully dangerous job and betting addiction, but for someone as broken and rough as him to get someone so soft and fantastic was worth any sort of sacrifice, for his babe-one and babe-two as he started calling you guys, a term that would soon enough be changed to ‘family’, he could do anything…

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

Masterlist

#jujutsu x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu sorcerer #jujutsu fluff #jujutsu toji #jujutsu fanfic #toji fushiguro #fushiguro toji x reader #jjk fushiguro #fushiguro toji #fushiguro x reader #daddy toji #baby megumi #jjk fluff #fluff #single father toji #family fluff #soft toji

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kivino · 6 months

Note

KIVI, YOU SWEET ANGEL YOU.

can you write a price x gn!paramedic!reader where price is on leave, and maybe he gets into a car accident that isn’t too bad so he refuses to go to the hospital, but the cute paramedic keeps insisting on at least checking him out in the ambulance……….. 😋

DOUBLE VISION || JOHN 'BRAVO 0-6' PRICE X PARAMEDIC!GN!READER

Word counter – ~1.9k

Tags/Warnings – mentions of car crash, intoxication, medical examinations, fluff, first meeting, and lack of medical professionalism, lmao.

A/n – PLSS I HOPE YOU LIKE IT POOKIE, IT TOOK ME A HOT MINUTE TO GET TO THE REQUEST I’M SORRY MWAH. also credits for the name go to @mockerycrow as well, they’re a genious and have the biggest brain out of the two of us.

ao3 link for this fic

It’s always a slow process for John - getting used to the slow, civilian ways when he finally gets his leaves approved. When he spends so much time on the field, more often than not he starts to forget about “the other side” of life. Lack of noise, mundane mornings, and silent nights come and with them, the all-encompassing feeling of loneliness starts to set in his gut. John gets reminded about the lack of anyone’s presence in his life. No one is waiting for him back home, and no one will probably be any time soon, with how work takes over most of his free time. And then the captain remembers he’s not getting any younger.

Of course, he had plenty of experience and relationships before, but none of them lasted until now when his hair was already graying and wrinkles were starting to riddle his face here and there. John wasn’t insecure about his age, no, because that would be foolish, really, rather it was the fact that he had no one to share with all the years that were ahead of him.

What John also had a hard time getting used to was driving the busy streets of London with its crazy drivers after months of not getting behind the wheel, which brings him to this moment. Well, it really was on him for trying to get somewhere after happy hour in all the pubs in the area ended, he should’ve probably anticipated some drunk idiot would want to drive back home today. John wasn’t in the right headspace at the moment to fill out all the paperwork and figure out who was in the wrong. His thoughts were far away from here. Probably all the impact from the airbag and the hit.

He’s had it worse before, of course, so some bruises and scratches here and there wasn’t something he couldn’t handle. John felt some pulsing pain in his knee, making it harder to stand upright, and a bit of an ache in his neck from the whiplash, but again, it wasn’t as bad as getting thrown into the wall by an explosion or falling out of a damn helicopter.

So now he has to spend the whole evening working out things with the police and that drunk idiot who bumped into him, freezing his ass off in the rain. Just perfect. John feels a surge of annoyance and exhaustion wash over him, he pinches his brow, letting out an impatient sigh. Cops have arrived on the scene already and started examining the two collided vehicles, after putting around some traffic cones so some other lucky fellas don’t decide to join in on the fun. From his spot on the sidewalk, John can also see the paramedics, who had to get involved because as soon as cops started questioning that drunk guy, he decided to scrunch into himself and show the world all the contents of his stomach. As if it needed to get even more complicated than it already was.

“Excuse me, sir? You’re the other…driver involved in the accident?” John suddenly hears a voice, a bit on the quiet side, which brings him out of his thoughts that involve strangling somebody in a variety of different ways. And oh, his nights instantly become tens, if not thousands of times better when he sees the owner of said voice.

Judging by the identifying markings you were a paramedic, and a very cute one at that, with your dull green uniform and a big jacket on, brows tied together in a concerned expression. Oh, and your eyes, they looked absolutely lovely in the low streetlights. Price is taken aback for the moment, forgetting every word in his vocabulary. He feels his heart starting to beat faster, blood flowing through his veins so fast he’s sure if it wasn’t for the evening darkness he’d most likely resemble a tomato. But then John realizes he must say something because just staring at you would just make him seem like some old creep. And he absolutely didn’t want that.

“Yes, that would be me.” He speaks up after clearing his throat. You nod to that, attentive gaze still on him. John then adds on after a short pause, which took him to let out a deep sigh. “You need me for anything?” Anything. Something. Please.

“Just checking up.” John feels his heart melt at that small smile that grazes your lips, making it obvious you’re satisfied with his answer. “You seem to be holding up better than the other driver.” You joke in an attempt to either lighten up the mood, which John appreciates, or to calm yourself a bit. It didn’t escape him how you seemed a little shaky. It was Friday night, so today’s shift might have been rough on you. Always the Friday nights.

“Well, anyone would hold up better than that bloke.” He jokes with a bit of abandon, a low chuckle escaping his lips, as he starts to overthink himself. John suddenly feels like a dumb teenager, which is never a good sign, especially when there is someone he’s interested in right in front of him. Price feels like his laugh is too rough, stance is too relaxed and everything is just a bit too much when your eyes are on him. Oh, he’s so going to embarrass himself.

“True, but let’s not tell him that.” You give a quiet laugh and John’s worries die down a little. Not completely, but enough to let his eyes get glued to your face. “How are you feeling? Is there any abnormal pain, anything unusual or out of the ordinary?” Oh, so you’re the type to get straight to business, huh? Interesting. Price liked that. “If there’s anything wrong we’ll get you right to the hospital.” Price declined when he got asked about the hospital before by another paramedic because there was no way he was going to spend even more time out of his house because of some minor scratches. But if it meant you’ll be there, he’s calling dibs on the seat beside you in the ambulance truck, dear lord.

“My knee’s complaining a bit, love.” John can see your eyes going as big as two shiny coins when you hear that pet name, which, to be fair, slipped out completely unintentionally. However, by the way you instantly light up in another shy smile, he can tell you don’t really mind it, so his nervousness caused by this… “happy accident”, comes down again. “Some bruises, but I’m not about to hold you up because of those.”

“Oh, well, that’s alright, come with me and I can check you out…” You stutter over your words while talking a bit too quickly and once you understand what you said, an annoyed groan comes out of you. Way to embarrass yourself. “I mean, check your knee out in the ambulance, alright?” You again shoot him a smile. Which probably is in vain, since he’s a patient at the moment, and you’re at work, and that’s very much frowned upon, but what can you do? You don’t meet a man like that everywhere. He looks a bit rough around the edges, but that’s part of the charm.

“I’m sure your hands are already full with that hero of the day over there, I’m good.” What. The fuck. Are you doing. John. The only chance he gets to talk to you and he’s blowing it, for fuck’s sake. He didn’t know why he said that. Maybe not to seem desperate in a very self-sabotaging way, but that’s just. Oh, John, you’re too old for playing some damn games with someone you like.

“You know what? I insist.” Your voice is lower and rougher. And when you top it off with another one of your sweet smiles and a gentle touch on his shoulder? John is a gone man. Turning into a much, a putty, if you will. God, for this perfect smile he was ready to smash and repair every single house appliance and pipe in your house.

“Alright then. Anything for you, love, lead the way.” And you did, with your hand resting softly on his back, helping him forward. John wished you would’ve been bolded with your touch, so he could feel more than just a light graze, but still. It felt good.

And then he finds himself in the back of the ambulance truck, this cramped, tiny space making him hold his breath from being so goddamn nervous in your presence. You told him to take a seat while rummaging through some cabinets and various medical bags for something. Seemingly not finding anything that you needed you spoke up to him again.

“Okay, now let me see your knee, sir.” You mumbled while kneeling in front of him, your eyes concentrated on the man. He didn’t mind you calling him sir at all. John was so used to being called that, but right now it just spread that very pleasant warm feeling inside of him.

“Well, I’m not taking my pants off. Not without a dinner first.” Price chuckled, as he tried rolling up one of his pants legs. And, well, his statement wasn’t that far from the truth. The whole deal with examination was a bit awkward to begin with, so he didn’t want to make it even worse.

“I’ll think about it, big guy.” You chuckle, as you finally start looking at his knee, small, feather-light touches sending sparks over Price’s skin. So, you enjoyed teasing him like that, huh? In combination with that nice, sweet smile? Oh, John is sold. He definitely should you invite somewhere while he still has time on his leave. But before he can open his mouth to make a brave offer you speak up again. “Looks like you have a minor sprain in here, your knee’s all swollen. I’ll apply some elastic bandages, that you’re going to have to wear for some time and redo yourself. But overall you seem to be doing good” Price couldn’t help but feel like that last remark wasn’t about his health.

“Yeah. Yeah. That’s all fine with me, love. Do what you have to.” You only nod in response, spending some time rummaging in the cupboards once again and emerging victorious with a roll of elastic bandages in your hands. You return to your previous position in front of John, and adjust his knee with a firm hand, mumbling a quiet “Hold still, please”. Oh, he’d freeze for centuries if you had asked him to. But he does, and as you wrap the bandage around his knee, which just kept pulsing with hot pain, he couldn’t help but admire you. The trained movements, the concentrated gaze, the warm touch…Maybe he really should act on his thoughts. Maybe it’s his chance. Maybe something can work out and this accidental meeting will become…something more.

Price wanted it to become something more.

His imagination ran rampant, picturing you wearing some nice and fancy, in case you do agree on a date. John totally should not be thinking this when you were right there, finally putting some finishing touches on his knee bandaging, so he forced them out of his mind and cleared his throat. Here goes nothing. But before Price can even utter a single sound you’re already being called over by your colleague. Guess he’ll just have to wait until you’re free of your duties, huh?

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mirnilop · 9 months

Text

𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝑜𝓁𝑒 𝒹𝑒𝓋𝒾𝓁 𝒸𝒶𝓁𝓁𝑒𝒹 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 ˚₊·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞➳❥ wally darling

⚠ tags: sfw, mob au, yandere!wally, gn!singer!reader, power imbalance, discussions of violence

♡ synopsis: you’d be surprised how many fans you accrue as a small-time lounge singer. while this is usually a good thing, one of yours happens to rule half the city, so he isn’t exactly receptive to the word “no”.

♡ word count: 5,310

⛧ﾐ‧*･ﾟ the following content may be triggering to some. please proceed with caution! ･ﾟ*‧ミ⛧

a/n: hello!! ₍ᐢ.ˬ.⑅ᐢ₎ goshh, my very first post on this acc!! i haven’t posted fanfic in a hot minute but i’m suuuper excited to get back into it!! 💞 i have sooo many wips for this fandom, it was difficult to choose which one to finish first! credit to @/clownsuu for creating the au and for the lovely art!! i tweaked the concept a wee bit so that it takes place in a roger rabbit-esque world where puppets and humans live together unharmoniously (with a jessica rabbit inspired reader ofc >v>). it was a lot of fun trying to marry wally's canon personality with a Scary Mob Boss (*´ 艸`) i can't wait to post more!! what are y'all's favourite aus? let me know!! ･*･:≡(　ε:)

There’s a rose on your vanity.

The sight of it snuffs out your high spirits, irritation igniting in its place– and it was such a good day, too! You and the girls were perfectly in sync for your entire performance, bolstered by the unusually affable audience; you even rewarded them with a sneak peek of new material, which made them go wild!

Dreams of stomping it beneath your heel stew in your head as you drop it in the faience vase at the rim of the mirror, where a crinkled, beige-tipped rose droops against the rim. Why not break the vase too? An idea that’s crossed your mind too many times, and while it gets harder to resist with each flower, you endure it. They’re presents, after all, and you doubt your admirer would take kindly to the news that you’ve trashed them. You’re certain one of his minions would obtain the evidence, if not witness you do it; you can’t pinpoint the extent to which they survey you, but the crawling sensation of eyes on your back crops up often, and obviously they have no problem barging into your dressing room to play delivery service.

Sighing, you comb through your rolling rack to pick a suitable outfit to change into. Most of the articles hanging are also gifts, but you’ve made sure to keep some of your own hard-earned clothes here out of sheer spite. A burgundy cashmere number has just slipped into your grasp when the door bursts open.

“How’s that for a show?! And what a great crowd, a whole buncha dolls! Or– well, puppets– and humans! Hahaha!”

Lottie skips in with her usual energy, the bell on her collar jingling alongside the clack of her Mary Janes. You hate that their manager mandates the bells as a part of their costumes, as if puppets being treated like second-class citizens wasn’t enough. “You wanna make money or not? It’s part of the appeal! You know, Mary Had A Little Lamb and all that!” is what he told you after one of your countless tirades regarding his treatment of them, but the sleazy smirk wrapped around his cheap cigarette allowed you to read between the lines. As much as you despise that man, it’s not your business to judge the trio for staying contracted with him. Mottie’s recalled to you how difficult it was to hire a manager at all, and you suppose you have to (begrudgingly) thank him for bringing them into your life, since he’s the one who bagged them the backup singer gig.

A swell of color in your peripheral lets you know that she’s come near, but you don’t bother diverting attention from your search. This is such a common occurrence between you two that pleasantries are no longer required.

“And they were mighty generous with the tips! So me and the gals was thinking we should go somewhere to… celebrate…”

Hearing her trail off, you turn to find her staring at the new rose, her once-perky ears fallen limp. You click your tongue, remorse prickling your heart, though you’ve done nothing wrong.

“I’ll be alright, Lottie. Here,” You grab a wad of bills from your personal tip jar and fold them into her hand. “You take your sisters somewhere nice, my treat. As an apology for having to skip out tonight.”

When she doesn’t move from her spot, merely pouting at you with big, glistening eyes full of concern, you swaddle her in a hug. Fleecy strands of shell pink hair tickle your nose as she nestles her snout into your shoulder, squeezing you like a lifebuoy. Having her in your arms is a vital reminder as to why you continue to put up with everything. Lottie, Dottie and Mottie are your beloved friends– your family when you had none– and you are willing to do whatever is necessary to build a life with them.

“Are ya sure?”

“Positive. And if that bug gives you even a whiff of trouble, you come get me right away, got it?”

She laughs, the sound a balm to the ache of your worries. “He never gives us any trouble– n’fact, I haven’t heard ‘im say a single word!”

“Good. At least one of them has manners. Now go have fun!”

After a few more hugs and a promise to relay your apology to her sisters, she trots towards the entrance. Halfway through it, she pauses.

“Promise ya’ll play nice?”

An involuntary grimace twists your face, which you smooth immediately.

“I was planning on it,” you concede, earning an exhale of relief from Lottie.

“Thanks. Honestly, I’m kinda worried...” She leans against the doorframe, gaze trained on the checkered floor. “I see more and more of that Napoleon-wannabe’s goons lately. Do ya think he’s gettin’ antsy? It’s been real quiet since that incident with Dorelaine.”

Ah, the incident. It happened a handful of months ago; he refused to go into specifics, but what you’ve gathered from his gnomic recount and various news stories is that their rival organization– led by Ronald Dorelaine, a human man– planted explosives somewhere important, racking up thousands in damages and dismembering several puppets, left to be mended with those horrific stitches. You didn’t receive another rose until several weeks afterwards.

“I can’t be sure,” you admit. “He doesn’t tell me much about the goings-on of the ‘family’, not that I care to know. But I noticed he’s been more wound up lately… maybe they’re going to retaliate?”

A visible shudder travels through Lottie, and she tosses her head as if to ward off the gravity of your predicament. It was easier to ignore the implications when there wasn’t an active turf battle.

“You’re right, we should stay as far as we can from that nasty business. Wear the red, then. To butter ‘im up a little.” She offers you a conflicted half-smile, most likely holding herself back from proposing a makeover, before sidling out the door.

Glowering, you follow the advice, shucking your tight, shimmering stage outfit for the cozy cashmere you were eyeing before. Like I need to be reminded of his favorite color. I’ve practically lived in red since I met him. It inexplicably fits like a glove, as do all of the clothes you've been bestowed; for the sake of your sanity, you prevent yourself from delving too far into that subject.

As you fix the little bits of your appearance that got mussed up during your performance, you can’t help but contemplate hiding in your room until morning, even though you know it wouldn’t work– and you’d have to pay for a broken front door. Once every speck of lint has been removed and your ensemble is flawless, you steel your resolve with a hard look in the mirror. If things go south, at least you’ll make a gorgeous open casket.

You step into your shoes and out of the dressing room, swiping your bag and a matching hat from the plethora that dangle on knobs affixed to the wall along the way. The haze that eternally permeates the lounge envelops you as you walk, no longer springing tears to your eyes like it did so long ago, when you were a starry-eyed fledgling. Upon entering the foyer, you call out to the owner, Gene, who’s counting the register behind the bar.

“Hey, I’m heading out!”

“Geez, you’re in a hurry! Got a hot date or what?”

“Something like that,” you breathe, your nerves relighting tenfold now that you’re so close to the outside.

“Ahh, I getcha.” His amusement is clear, construing an innuendo within your words that is absolutely not there, but you’d rather die than clarify. “You did a great job today, you deserve it!”

Somehow, your admirer has managed to limbo directly under Gene’s nose; thus far he’s made no indication that he’s aware he has a very important patron. For a moment, you observe him, and see how he absentmindedly rubs the pocket of his button-up– where a polaroid of his two children is safely tucked away– and you decide that it’s probably for the best.

“Thanks, Gene. Have a good one.”

“You too!”

His reply barely reaches you as you cross the threshold from the comfort of your work into the cold, pensive night. A luckier soul may have suffered a fright when greeted with the colossal figure standing below the street light, carved with shadow, but it’s a familiar sight to you now. An inconspicuous black car is parked behind him.

“Hi Howdy.”

“Evening, Mx.” He bows slightly, whisking open the sleek passenger door which you reluctantly slide inside.

“I wish you’d stop calling me that. I do have a name.” It’s true. Being addressed formally by such an important figure imbues you a with a sick feeling, like he’s won, and you’ve already been initiated into this fucked up institution.

Though he waits for you to finish speaking before shutting you in, he doesn’t grace you with a response; not that you were expecting one. In all the times he’s escorted you to these duress-dates, as you’ve taken to calling them, he’s remained stoic to a mechanical degree, acknowledging your presence and nothing more. Thrashing, crying, screaming– you’ve tried everything to escape, and have never elicited a reaction more severe than that of a tired parent handling a tantrum. If you resist, he simply manhandles you. It’s hardly a fair match, with him having 4 arms and several feet of height on you, so you opt to reserve your energy for dealing with his headache of a boss.

When he hauls his many limbs onto the driver’s seat, the car lurches, too small to accommodate a puppet of his stature; he has to hunch forward to see the windshield, antennae pushed flat. You lean back and vacantly turn towards the window, wondering if cars big enough for someone like him to drive comfortably even exist while the engine rumbles to life.

The umbrous cityscape passes you by, inklings of humans and puppets flashing in and out of the darkness like ghosts. Thick boughs of red and green tinsel are strung across a few lamp posts, but by the end of the season they’ll all be covered. Dottie’s already triple checked that you and her sisters have one day of the annual Christmas market off, even though you strike the same deal with Gene every year; the four of you get Saturday, then he gets Sunday to take his family. It’s one of your favorite times of the year, if only because you get to experience the aura of wonder that enlivens Lottie when the first snow falls, Mottie’s timid wheedling to attend The Nutcracker, and Dottie’s alphabetically-organized checklist of fun winter activities.

Those cheerful thoughts are wiped away as Howdy turns into a private garage attached to a sleek, angular skyscraper. He parks in the spot nearest to the entrance, the first in a row of spaces labeled with metal “Reserved for Staff” signs, and circles the car to let you out. The sensation of him gingerly lifting you comes with no alarm; he always assists you up the concrete stairs leading to the elevator, as if you’re so physically inept you can’t handle 3 tiny steps. You assume his needless precaution is for the same reason he hasn’t beaten you yet despite defying him so often: boss’s orders.

With a reedy knell, the elevator glides open, and Howdy signals for you to go ahead. Once you’re both inside, he inserts a key and presses the button for the uppermost level. Expecting a noiseless ride, you tune into the low muzak emitting from the speakers, which makes you miss the first time he calls you.

“Mx.”

Startled, you swivel towards him. His steadfast profile is unreadable.

“Boss doesn’t know you’ve opposed him so vehemently in the past. Please keep that in mind tonight.”

The entrance broaches before you can interrogate him as to what the hell he means, granting you entry to a luxury penthouse laved in gold, ivory, and– of course– red. A glimmering chandelier suspends from the ornamental ceiling, bathing the antique furniture in an amber glow. If you hadn’t just ridden up the elevator, you would have assumed such a lavish drawing room belonged to an old mansion.

It’s something straight out of a romance novel, except instead of a chiseled, broody Italian, it’s a short puppet sitting at the marble-topped dining table. He lounges at the head in a slate blue silk suit with its jacket buttoned to the top; an honor seemingly reserved solely for you, because it’s the only way you’ve seen him wear it, despite street tales describing the way it billows from his shoulders as he stalks the town. Revealed by its plunged neckline is the collar of a white dress shirt embossed with rainbow pinstripes, and a red ascot neatly tied and pulled askant around his throat.

Wally Darling, in the felt: kingpin of The Neighborhood, and resident thorn in your side.

When you arrive, he rises to meet you, dismissing Howdy with a pointed glance; you’ve learned that the relationship between a crime lord and his loyal bandog transcends language. You watch him as he leaves through a pair of swinging doors to the left, his cryptic advice-slash-warning heavy on your mind.

And so, you find yourself alone with the most dangerous man in the city– puppet or otherwise.

“Good evening, dearest. I hope my gift found you well.”

The concept of personal space might as well be Greek to Wally, since he hasn’t once respected it from the day you had the misfortune of making his acquaintance. He crowds so close that you have to crane your neck to see his face, the heat emanating from him eliciting shivers in your chill-soaked body.

“Yes, thank you. It was quite a lively night,” you chirp, wielding a civil smile.

Although the contours of his wispy, coiffed curls only reach your ribs, he extends his arm to you, which you take with such a featherlight hold that you barely brush his sleeve. Rather than leading you to the dining table like you expected, you’re guided towards a small lounge area to the side, the crackling croon of Billie Holiday wafting over from a refurbished stereo console in the corner. Oh, great. He’s feeling sentimental.

“Would you indulge me with a dance before dinner?”

Don't have much of a choice, do I?

“I’d love to.”

Dancing with Wally is funny, in an ironic sort of way; it certainly caught you off guard the first time he asked. When you envision dancing with a powerful, deadly mobster, you think of being swept away, wrapped snugly by strong arms and a dastardly smirk, or perhaps something more courtly, like a waltz steered by a polite hand on your waist. Turns out both versions are incorrect.

Muscle memory ushers your arms open, and Wally falls into the space in between them– literally. Slack against you, his full weight is heftier than his height would imply, but not physically uncomfortable– emotionally and morally, however, are another story. An air of pure peace washes over him as his cheek nuzzles the underside of your chest, arms limp at his sides; you swear you even hear a little trill. Your face burns, but you say nothing as you begin to sway faintly to the beat, tracing a loop with your feet as you traipse along. Wally follows easily, tethered by the reluctant cage of your embrace.

“Do you remember the night we met?”

The query is felt more than heard, his gentle monotone muffled by the downy fabric of your garb. You huff softly to yourself, rustling a few gel-slick strands atop his pompadour.

“How could I forget?”

The day the infamous Mr. Darling appeared in your club, his two largest henchmen in tow, is burned into your brain like a regrettable tattoo; Gene was off, so you were covering entertainment for the night while the sisters managed the bar and floor. As you were singing the very song playing now, you detected a curious hush that had overtaken the throng of guests, and strained to cut through the stage glare and cigarette fog to locate the cause. Tracking the audience, who were all regarding the bar with varying amounts of subtlety, you nearly dropped the microphone when you saw the broad blue back of Barnaby B. Beagle, someone you’d only heard of in gossip. He gesticulated as he spoke boisterously to poor Mottie, who was as white as a sheet behind the counter. Situated a slight ways away was Howdy Pillar, who stood as motionless as a statue with both sets of forelimbs fastened behind him.

And then you noticed him. A puppet no more than 4 feet tall, but whose oppressive presence commanded full attention. He paid no mind to the (one-sided) conversation between his colleague and your friend– no, he was staring right at you. Boring into you so acutely that you felt pinned, compelled somehow to continue singing until the final note trickled away.

As if a spell had been broken, you leapt from the platform and scurried to Mottie, who stayed petrified even when you tried to covertly nudge her to the side. How avidly you wished a fissure would open beneath their shoes and swallow them whole; but, armed with years of appeasing difficult and sordid customers, you spoke.

“Evening, fellas. I hope you enjoyed the show.”

Barnaby, who had stopped talking when you rounded the bar, bellowed a laugh.

“Fellas?! Is that any way to greet the boss and I?"

He tilted forward with menacing glee, propped up by furry elbows as his claws scraped the laminate countertop. Each of his fangs were as big as your nose.

"Dontcha know who we are, toots? Or do ya just need a refresher on respect?"

The acrid smoke from his cigar blew directly into your face, making spikes of anger bubble in your belly as you choked back a cough. Just when you felt composed enough to reply, a surprisingly mellow voice chimed in.

"It's alright, Barnaby."

The shock slacking his jaw mirrored yours, although you hid it under a mask of cool indifference. You dared a glance at Mr. Darling, but the pressure of his peer chased your gaze back to Barnaby, who grumbled as he straightened back up. It was difficult to stay trained on his good eye, but you soldiered on. Fear was not something you could afford to show, and you knew you'd crumble if you peeked at the fabled gaping socket that he stapled open himself.

"I don't suppose you're Gene Clifton, aged 54, father of two, owner of this joint?" He joked, recovered from the flub.

"No, sir, but my banker would sure be happy if I was. Can I take down a message?"

"A message! I love this bird!" Snickering cruelly, he waved a flippant paw. "Y'should try that material on stage sometime, might bring ya more customers than the singing bit."

You sucked a sharp inhale up your nose. Serenity now.

"See, here's the problem. This is family territory, and in return for our protection, we charge a teensy fee. Now, we ain't unreasonable– we've sent ole Gene a few letters. And what’s our thanks for such humble hospitality? Zilch."

Oh dear. Gene doesn't bother investigating any mail the lounge receives before tossing it because it’s typically adverts. He definitely would've noted The Neighborhood's seal if he did. Regardless, the frank abuse of power only fanned your annoyance, obscuring your better judgment.

"What protection? I don't recall seeing any of your members patrolling outside. Besides, we didn’t ask for protection."

Mottie snapped towards you, looking as though she might faint. The corner of Barnaby's mouth twitched skyward, like he was hoping you'd argue, but his boss beat him to the punch.

"We can reach an agreement, I’m sure. I'd hate to see a family establishment go under, especially when they have such lovely entertainment."

Apparently Wally was so smitten that he'd accept your company in lieu of money, and so the agreement (if you can even call it that, since you were coerced) was this– whenever a rose was delivered to you, you'd attend a rendezvous with him. When you returned to your dressing room later that evening, you discovered the first gift of several: your vase.

“I knew because of your eyes.”

The floral wallpaper in front of you shifts back into focus, Wally’s voice shaking you from your recollection.

“Pardon?”

“That night, you drew me in; I couldn’t concentrate on anything else, least of all a petty protection tax. And I knew I had to have you when I met your eyes.” He sounds dreamy, reminiscing as you were before, though his framing of events is worlds apart from your own; he recalls a destined encounter with his future partner, whereas you mark it the day your wings were clipped for good.

“They shone like stars, even through the smog.”

It’s only after he’s finished that you realize you’ve stopped moving, wrapped in an intimate hug like true lovers. A strange mix of pride and disgust floods you at the compliment, stomach flip-flopping rapidly.

He untangles from you, receding so that only your hands remain connected. The newfound distance eases some of your tension, but to your horror, you find yourself mourning the loss of the husky scent of his cologne. Loath as you are to admit it, the bastard smells amazing: a dark, leathery swirl of apples and saffron that you’d buy out if someone turned it into a candle.

“Let’s not delay any longer. You must be starving.”

True to his gentlemanly veneer, he seats you at the table before settling himself. You don’t see him call, but a server emerges immediately from the doors through which Howdy left with a tray of appetizers.

There are two graces you award Wally Darling: his excellent taste in cologne, and his staff’s Michelen-quality fare. Though they adopt the four courses typical of fine dining, the dishes are more grounded, toeing the border between grandma and Gordon Ramsay perfectly. Truthfully, you’re not even sure what to categorize it as; virtually everything is transfigured into a jello, pie, or salad, harkening back to the post-war cookbooks you used to gawk at as a child in your late mother’s library. The yellowed pictures in those books appeared extremely unappetizing, but somehow The Neighborhood makes it work.

It could be because of an illusive member named Poppy, one of the 7 who make up Wally’s illustrious inner circle. She’s scarcely seen due to her fretful and skittish nature, but Wally lauds her cooking and baking skills, regaling you in the past with plenty of kitchen mishaps that occurred when she tried to decompress by experimenting with recipes and was interrupted by their more excitable comrades. If you remember correctly, he once told you that most of the menus in rotation were created by her.

The nature of these duress-dates is wholly dependent on Wally’s mood– if he’s happy, then he’ll gladly chat your ear off about frivolous happenings in his and his friends’ private lives, though he takes care to be shrewd with any details that dive too deep into the murky underbelly lying just below. If he’s unhappy, then they can be utterly unbearable; his mere existence puts you on edge, so it’s exponentially worse when he’s out of sorts, tone curt and glare fierce.

Thankfully, he’s amiable tonight. The first 3 courses march on without incident, and painless conversation flows between the two of you, even if he does most of the talking– you’re not exactly eager to share more than you have to. It’s when the server presents dessert that things go awry.

“Say, how are those triplets you work with doing?” Wally says, spooning at the Bananas Foster. “I haven’t had the pleasure of catching a performance since our mishap a while back. So much paperwork, so little time, you know how it is.”

The mention of both your friends and the aforementioned Dorelaine incident have you bristling reflexively, but you do your best to tamp it down.

“They’re well, overall. Sometimes it’s difficult for them– their manager’s a real piece of work, and we get all types at the lounge.”

“I see…”

He lets out a long “hmmmm”, like he’s reflecting on this information.

“My family has also come upon hard times. It can be… trying, sometimes, to guide my children. Especially now, when we are under unjust attack.” He confesses, wistfully resting his chin on a thread-scarred palm. “Every family requires a head, but what is a head without a neck?”

Unjust my ass. Still, the weird metaphor confuses you.

“A neck?”

At that, his catlike grin only grows. What is he talking about?

“Yes, a neck; that is, someone who supports the head. I care for my family, so it’s only right I am cared for in return, wouldn’t you say?”

Though the phrasing is puzzling, you’re fairly confident you can infer what he’s purposefully dangling in front of you, and oh, it makes your stomach plummet. Sweat breaks out underneath your suddenly-sweltering outfit; it's as if you've been tied to a railroad and have managed to divert the train through pure will for a year, but now it's steamrolling square for you. The anxiety of impending doom renders you mute, unable to piece together a coherent thought.

Taking your silence in stride, Wally leans forward, intense as he grasps your hand in both of his own. The yellow fuzz does nothing to help how clammy you feel.

“What I mean to say is, I think that it’s time to settle down."

No.

“Wh– what? Settle down how?”

“To get married, silly.”

You’re unable to help the gasp that escapes you. No, no, no!

“Get married? You mean– to me?!”

“Of course. I’ve been courting you all this time, haven’t I?”

You sputter, and he rubs your hand as if to soothe you. His many gold rings gleam under the chandelier, teasing a glimpse of your fate.

“I know in the beginning you weren’t receptive to the idea of this life, but I've shown you that I can provide for you better than anyone else.”

Your expression must betray your surprise, because he chuckles– a slow, stilted sound that sends gooseflesh blooming across your skin.

“You thought I didn’t know? Howdy may not have reported it– which I’ll rectify in due time– but I have eyes everywhere, dear. You’re quite the talented actor, though.”

That trademark simper melts into something beguiling; he cradles you as if you’re the most precious thing he’s ever held.

“I love you, and I will take care of you, as I ask you to do for me. Doesn’t that sound wonderful?”

An inviting facade of genuine affection, so ardent that you almost want to believe it. Wouldn’t that be the easiest path to take? To surrender to the hand that feeds, because where it strangles others, it caresses you sweetly? It’s more tempting than you’d ever divulge, because underneath the armor of aplomb you've so carefully forged, you're exhausted. This burden has been yours alone to bear– and what a bear it is, because if you mess up, the people you love could be injured, or worse. So much worse.

Perhaps sensing an opening, Wally continues.

“Be reasonable. The family welcomes you with open arms! Haven’t you missed having a family?"

The words stab you right through the heart, and your waning resolve springs back tenfold by the fury that ruddies your vision. When you rip your hand away, he makes no move to stop you.

"My friends are my family. I don’t want anyone else, especially not murderers!” You snarl. “You kill people– and torture and maim them! How can you expect me to accept this?!"

"All in a day's work when cleaning up the city, unfortunately," Wally hums. "I wish we didn't have to resort to such things, but you must understand. As it is, puppets are treated as less than, and hardship runs rampant for both humans and puppets alike. You’ve experienced these firsthand.” With the elegance of a master conman, he touches his chest in mock respire. “All we wish to do is provide a safe haven for those in need– somewhere to rest your bones, enjoy a hot meal, and where everyone accepts you as their own. A home.”

You abruptly stand up, feeling like you’re wound so taut that you could erupt at any moment. The mahogany chair behind you tips over from the force, striking the floor with a leaden thud, though the sound is deafened by the blood rushing in your ears.

“Bullshit! You don’t have to start a gang to combat discrimination or help suffering people! Maybe that spiel works on the poor saps you trick into doing your dirty work, but it won’t work on me. The answer is no.”

All is still for a moment as you struggle to calm your heaving breaths, trembling and locked in a quiet stalemate with Wally, who’s as relaxed as ever. Your attention flits from his right eye to where the left would be, if not for the lesion carved from a notch above his eyelid to an inch below, giving the illusion that what lies beneath is impaled.

Oh shit.

The magnitude of what just transpired comes crashing down as your adrenaline flushes out. After playing it safe for months– stomaching unwanted exorbitant gifts, being tailed by his employees, and rousted to innumerous “dates”– you just rejected Wally Darling in the most aggressive way possible. So you do the only thing that might garner you a chance to make it out of this alive: run.

You’re halfway across the room when 4 thick arms suddenly wrangle and force you to halt, a scream ripping itself from your throat out of fear. Can this motherfucker teleport now?! How the hell did he get here so fast?? Thrashing, you throw your head back to search Howdy’s face, desperate for an ounce of the sympathy he’d offered in the elevator, but it is in vain; his stony visage is impenetrable, as though it had never wavered.

“How about you sleep on it, hm? Think about all of your options. We wouldn’t want anything to happen to those little lambs when their adorable shepherd isn’t around to protect them.”

Delicate fingers cup your jaw, making you freeze as Wally stretches up to plant a faux-kiss on your cheek, complete with a small “mwah!”. You scowl daggers at him as he collects your hat from where it flew to the floor, dusts it off, and lovingly places it back on your head before giving you a few pats.

“Aw, don’t be that way, darling. I truly meant what I said; you have beautiful eyes. I can hardly wait to try one on.”

With a snap, you’re hauled over Howdy’s back and spirited out of the room, presumably to be transported to wherever you’ll be staying. Hopefully not Wally’s quarters.

It’s all too much; you feel like you’re trapped in a nightmare. How else did you expect this to end? You’re not sure. With all of the awful things he’s done, forcing you into marriage is not beyond him. You just thought you’d have more time: to plan, to save up enough money to take the girls and race to the hills.

Tears gather on your waterlines, and the minute your mouth wobbles, they spill ceaselessly. Full-bodied sobs wrack you, the pain of Howdy’s shoulder jutting into your midsection compounding the profound ache of sorrow. All this time, you’ve been trying to fight, but there was no fight to be had; it ended the moment his eyes found yours across the lounge that day.

#🐇 penned #🌈🖼️ wh #feat. some random ocs i made up for the sake of the fic #welcome home #welcome home x reader #wally darling x reader #x reader #reader-insert #yandere x reader #i love randomly throwing in ronald dorelaine #cause we have no idea who he is or what he's like #so he can be whatever i need him to be #yandere wally darling #yandere wally darling x reader #welcome home mob au #clownsuu

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feelmyskinonyourskin · 6 months

Text

Fight Club [Frank's Version]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x (AFAB)Reader x Frank Castle

Summary: If this seems familiar, that's cause it is. When @hellskitchenswhore sent this prompt I gave two options: Either Matt fucks you before your next session so he's dripping out of you while you're training with Frank so you "remember who you belong to" ORRRRRR he busts up your session and you end up having a three way with him and Frank in the gym. She chose the former but the later has honestly been bouncing around my brain since then and I finally wrote it. The fic is the same until Matt follows reader to the gym, then the fun begins...

Warnings: 18+/SMUT. No use of Y/N. Female/AFAB reader (use of terms like girlfriend and female anatomy.) Established relationship. Brief mention of an active shooter at an office, Frank and Matt using pet names like sweetheart, mentions and accusations of cheating but no actual cheating, Unprotected sex, Fingering and hand job, Oral (M & F receiving,) THREE WAY! A TRIP TO PARIS!, P in V, Creampie, etc.

WC: 7,200

*I never give permission for my fics, manips, or any other original creation I post on this site to be copied, posted elsewhere, translated, or fed into any AI program. The only platform I currently post anything on is Tumblr. Thanks!*

“That’s it sweetheart, last round I promise.” Frank encourages you as you take swings at the bag in front of you.

You’ve been at this for at least an hour and your arms feel like jello. You can’t remember the last time you were breathing this hard that wasn’t from Matt bending you in half. Jumping directly into the Hudson would have kept you drier than the amount of sweat currently pouring down your face and exhausted body.

“Atta girl, atta girl!” Frank praises as you take your last few swings, arms too weak to make any real movement of the bag

“Alright, you’re getting the hang of it now. Few more sessions and you’ll be out there with Red every night.”

“Pfft I don’t know about that, Frank. I’m just trying to make sure I can protect myself is all.”

“So remind me again why you didn’t ask him to teach you this?”

It started last week. One of your favorite coworkers was going through a bitter divorce and her estranged husband decided to confront her at the office and pulled a gun. You heard two shots ring out from your desk and feared the worst - all the active shooter situations you'd seen on TV were happening live in your life. Fortunately, as you fled for safety, Jerry from accounting was able to disarm and tackle the guy before he could hurt anyone thanks to his black belt in Jiujitsu.

Even though the incident ended okay, it had spooked you enough to get yourself some defense classes, for all those times when your vigilante boyfriend was too far uptown to protect you at a moment’s notice and Jerry wasn’t around to save the day.

Matt was always overprotective of you and you hated to think how he’d react to the incident, so you hadn’t told him. When the story hit the news, you lied (via text so he couldn’t detect it) and said it happened on a different floor and you didn’t even notice.

You also didn’t tell him about your decision to learn self-defense. Matt was more than qualified to teach you, but for some reason, you just didn’t feel comfortable asking for his help with this. Maybe it was his propensity to throw himself into helping those he cared about, you especially, that gave you hesitation to give him another thing to prioritize over himself. Maybe it was just how good he was at fighting that made you not want to “be a beginner” in front of him (not that Matt would ever judge you about anything.)

In fairness to you, you hadn’t intended to learn it from his frenemy and former client, but you’d showed up at the boxing gym near your work and the gruff men inside intimidated you so much, you bolted out the door before signing up for a class, tears welling in your eyes when you quite literally bumped into Frank on the street.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, nodding towards the door of the boxing gym

“I thought… Look I want to learn how to fight. Or at least how to defend myself. This place is close to work but um… might not be the right fit for me.”

“Why don’t you just ask Red?”

“It’s a long story,” you replied with a sigh “but I really don’t want to ask him. Or for him to even know about it. So can you please not mention you saw me here or we had this conversation?”

“Okay, can I ask why not?”

“You can but I’m not gonna answer.”

Frank chuckled and shook his head

“Well if you want to learn to fight, this isn’t the best place. I know Vinny the owner and he’s a shit teacher. But if you want to learn for real, I’m happy to teach you.”

“What? Wait really? Wait, Frank you know how to fight?”

“Sweetheart, I was a Marine for over 15 years, ‘course I know how to fight.”

“And you’d do that for me?”

“Course. You’re Red's girl. What times’ he leave for his little night job?”

“9:00”

“Great, meet me here at 9:30. Tonight.”

And that was how you ended up here, collapsing on the gym mat beneath you with a groan.

“Not bad for your first time. We just gotta get you in the habit of resetting your hands after every hit, and you’ll be golden” Frank praises again

“Oh yeah, I forgot, always protect the face so I don’t end up lookin like you.” you jest

“Ouch” he feigns hurt with a smirk on his face “Red teach you to swing low like that?”

“Nah Castle, that’s all me. It’s part of why he loves me. Same time tomorrow?”

“Sure. See you then.”

By the time Matt returns home, you’re showered and in bed, sore muscles pulsing every time you twist and turn in your sleep. Between the smell of sweaty clothes in the hamper and the scent of your freshly washed skin rubbing against silk sheets, plus the heat radiating off your sore muscles as he crawls into bed silently beside you, Matt figures it out pretty quickly.

‘She started going back to the gym. Hmm. Have to ask her about that in the morning.’ he thinks as he drifts off beside you.

You awake in the morning to gentle hands rubbing at your back.

“Mmm morning Matty” you mumble, still pulling yourself out of sleep

“Morning sweetheart.”

“What are you doing?” you ask as he works a little lower down your spine

“Giving you a massage. I can tell you’re sore. When did you start going back to the gym?”

“Just yesterday. And you’re right I’m super sore. Thank you, this is a nice way to start my day.”

“Of course sweetheart. What gym did you go to? Did you have fun?” he inquires

His innocent prodding has you waking fully quickly, trying to cover your tracks without outright lying and getting caught.

“Oh this gym near work. Couple people in the office recommended it. And yeah I had fun.”

All truths.

“That’s nice. Mmmm do you want to start the coffee or shower first?” he asks, seemingly letting the subject go

Perfect.

As you rush around to get ready for work, Matt grabs the laundry hamper from the bathroom, walking it over to the washing machine. Your dirty workout clothes from the night before sit on top, now less potent that they have completely dried. But he can’t help but feel like something smells off.

Sure it smells like you - natural scent mixed with your fading sweat, but there’s something else. Something familiar. A very subtle hint of spiciness mixed with… is that gunpowder?

‘Weird’ Matt thinks to himself, but brushes it off a moment later, the smell not strong enough to really garner more than a passing thought.

But three times he does the laundry in a row, he smells it. It’s so subtle, he might not even give it another thought, but it’s just so damn familiar.

It takes another week for him to ask you about it.

“Hey sweetheart, you’ve been going to the gym a lot lately,” he mentions over dinner

“Mmmhmm. Yeah, can you feel my muscles growing? I’m feeling stronger.” you reply

“Yeah. What exactly are you doing at the gym? It’s really working.”

“Oh a little cardio, a little strength, you know…” you skirt around, being intentionally vague

“That’s good. Is it like a class or?”

“Um sort of. Just this guy at the gym, he’s been helping me. You know, walking me through the exercises.”

Also technically the truth.

“That’s good. Well, I’m glad you found something you like.”

‘Okay, so that guy must smell like this. She’s close enough to him in a warm sweaty gym, so there’s a little bit on her clothes. Makes sense.’ Matt thinks to himself. But he still can’t shake the feeling that that smell is so familiar.

Two weeks later, Matt is out on patrol when he hears a familiar heartbeat on the fire escape a few floors down from where he’s perched.

Frank.

“You just gonna sit there all night, listinin’ Red?” Frank asks

“Very funny Frank.” Matt says, hopping down to Frank’s level

“Haven’t seen you in a while” Matt comments

“Been busy. Madani’s been usin’ me more.”

“Oh don’t tell me you’re going legit Frank.”

“Not a shot in hell, Red. But gotta pay the bills somehow.”

And then a strong breeze blows. Frank’s signature blend of sweat, aftershave, and metallic mixed with gunpowder from all the weapons he handles overwhelms Matt’s nose. Matt cocks his head in confusion. It’s so damn familiar. But of course it is, it’s Frank. How many times has Matt been on a rooftop with him like this, bs-ing the night away while monitoring the city?

After catching up for a bit, they go their separate ways, the rest of Matt’s evening turning uneventful.

He returns home to you shortly after 3 am, your soft breathing as you sleep calms him as he strips off his suit.

You hadn’t met with Frank tonight. He said something about following a lead and you were perfectly fine with that, you needed an off day.

Matt curls up in bed beside you, resting his head on your back and falling asleep quickly.

The next night, Frank is really putting you through your paces and you swear you’re ready to collapse when he finally calls it for the night.

Per usual, Frank offers to walk you home when you’re done and for the first time since you started coming here, you accept the offer since you stayed a bit later than usual tonight. At least until you can make it to Hell’s Kitchen and within range of Matt.

You and Frank make small talk as you go and eventually, the chill of the autumn air has you shivering in your still-damp-from-sweat workout clothes.

“Here sweetheart,” Frank says with a lopsided smirk, slinging his worn jacket over your shoulders.

“Thank you Castle. Always a gentleman.”

“Course, ‘specially for Red’s girl.”

You make it to 35th and 10th, close enough to home and hand his jacket back to him, parting ways with a nod and a polite “goodnight.”

The later hour coupled with the particularly intense session has you collapsing into bed without even removing your shoes, let alone your gym clothes.

When Matt returns a few hours later, the smell hits him like a truck.

‘I swear to god Frank, if you’re bleeding on my couch again…’ Matt thinks to himself.

But when he enters the apartment the only heartbeat he can hear is yours. He inches slowly toward the bedroom and rolls the door open gently. He reaches down to feel the soft lycra of your leggings on your body, careful not to stir you from your slumber. The smell of your sweat clinging to your clothes fills his senses, way more potent than normal plus that other scent you’re bringing home from the gym. Matt pauses to wonder why he thought Frank was here but then it hits him.

Oh my god. The mystery smell from the gym you’ve been bringing home is Frank.

But how could you smell like…

And then the gears in his head start turning. And he feels like a goddamn idiot.

You had been going to the gym. But not to work out. You were cheating. With Frank of all people. And you’d made the critical error of not showering when you got home.

Matt begins to pace the apartment, rubbing at his chin as his thoughts move a million miles a minute about what to do.

Did he confront you? Did he confront Frank?! What should he even say?

The sun rises and he’s still pacing and contemplating when his alarm rings out. He shuts it off before it can wake you too. He needs more time to think about his next move. He gets ready for work quietly and slips out the door before you awake.

You find it odd you haven’t heard from Matt all day. When you woke up you saw his Devil suit in a heap in the living room and there was no damage to it or blood on it. So you knew he had come home and was relatively okay. But it was so odd for him to leave without a goodbye kiss or go this long in the day without so much as a text. But he had been busy with a heavy caseload lately. You finally break shortly after lunch and text him first.

“Hey Matty. Know you’re busy but I miss you and I love you. Dinner tonight?”

“Can’t. Working late. Don’t wait up.” He responds

That was… oddly curt. But again you figure he’s stressed and busy.

Matt on the other hand has been wracked with stress all day. It only took an hour of his constant pacing and fidgeting for Foggy to break and finally ask.

“Matt. What’s up?”

“I think… I think I’m being cheated on.” Matt confesses. He leaves the Frank part out of the equation, wanting Foggy to be as objective as possible about his response.

“What could possibly make you think that?”

“She’s been going to the gym like every night for a month now right when I leave for patrol and she came home last night smelling like… another man. And she’s been smelling like it a little the whole month but last night it was all over her”

“So did you ask her?”

“Well no but…”

“Matt you are literally a human lie detector and yet here you are jumping to conclusions instead of doing the rational thing and just asking her.”

And maybe Matt would have taken Foggy’s advice if he thought you were just cheating with your gym trainer. But this was Frank. And that made it all the more complicated.

Matt decides finally what he’s going to do. He’s going to follow you tonight, catch you in the act and confront both of you together.

Matt still hasn’t come home when you depart for your nightly workout session, but little do you know he’s there. Pacing on the roof, waiting for you to leave. As soon as he hears the lobby door shut behind you, he springs in to action, taking the stairs two at a time into the apartment and changing out of his lawyer suit and into his devil suit as quickly as possible, making sure not to lose your heartbeat now a block and a half away. He makes up for the lost distance quickly and is practically on top of you by the time you enter the gym.

“Hey Frank!” you call out as you enter

“Hey. I’ll be over in a second.” he replies from the locker rooms

Matt crouches down by the side of the building, just close enough to the windows to hear everything going on inside.

You’re almost done wrapping your hands when Frank emerges from the locker room.

“Alright let’s start with our usual, then you can have a go at me again.”

“I don’t know Frank. You really wore me out last night. I woke up still in my clothes and shoes.”

Matt knew it. He fucking knew it.

“Tough shit sweetheart,” Frank responds with a chuckle. “And what did your boyfriend think about that huh? He got any idea what we’re doing here yet?”

“Honestly I don’t know. I didn’t see or hear from him at all today. Which is weird even for him. And no I don’t think he’s figured it out yet.”

“You’re gonna have to tell him eventually”

“No, I don’t”

“So what you’re just gonna keep sneakin’ around, becoming a prize fighter without him gettin’ suspicious? Shit even a regular guy would raise some alarm bells by now, but especially Red and all his … shit”

“Frank, I am not here trying to become a prize fighter. I’m just trying to get strong enough to defend myself if he’s not around to do it. That’s all”

Matt’s heart drops.

How could he possibly think you were cheating? And with Frank of all people. He felt like an idiot. Like a total asshole. Sure you had lied, well, technically withheld the truth and he’s sure you’ll explain why. And he’s hurt if you wanted to learn to fight that you didn’t come to him. But this was not nearly as egregious a stain on your relationship as he thought it was.

“I don’t know. Think you should tell him. Show him your moves. Shit, you’ve gotten a couple good hits on me these last few days. I'm sure you could give Red a run for his money.”

“I am not fighting Matt, Francis.” You say with an eye roll

In that moment, Matt decided this had gone far enough. He needed to come clean. He slipped quietly through the door into the studio.

“Oh I think she absolutely could, Frank. Especially if you’ve been teaching her”

Your spine goes icy cold at the sound of the voice behind you. Both you and Frank jump with a gasp and whip your heads to look at the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, standing in front of you.

“Matt… I”

“It’s okay sweetheart,” Matt says, hands up in surrender before reaching up to remove his mask

“Shit Red, you been here this whole time?” Frank asks nonchalantly

Matt nods, shame painted on his face.

“Matt, I can explain…”

“No. I need to explain.” Matt holds a hand up, interrupting your thought “I followed you here because I thought you were cheating. With Frank. And I know now that’s not what’s happening. And I’m sorry for not just asking you.”

Frank scoffs and holds back a low chuckle while your face softens in empathy.

“Oh Matt. I’m so sorry that I did anything to make you think that. That’s not at all what’s happening here.”

“Really Red, you think I’m that kind of guy?”

“No... I don’t know.”

“Nah, wouldn’t lay a finger on your girl. Unless it was okay with you.”

Matt shakes his head.

“Now that I’m here though, I wouldn’t say no to a little demonstration of what you’ve been teaching her.”

Frank immediately looks to you, reading the signs on your face to make sure it’s okay. You nod. Now that Matt knows, its time to show him.

“Kay sweetheart, just a few rounds on the bag. Like we been practicing.” Frank reassures

You step up to the bag and look to Frank once more. A soft smile spreads across his face and he nods in encouragement.

You take a few swings. Jab, Cross, Left hook. Like Frank normally has you do. Not even thirty seconds in, Matt speaks up.

“Woah woah woah. Frank, you’ve been letting her hit like this and not correcting her form?”

“Yes. Wait, what the hell is wrong with her form?”

“She’s too far away from the bag.” Matt places his hands on your shoulders, maneuvering you with slight adjustments and positions his feet right beside yours, pressing his body tight against your back. “I can hear your shoulder joint rubbing every time you jab, which means you’re over-extending that left arm. Makes you put way too much energy into each hit, you’re gonna wear yourself out way faster. Here. Step closer.”

You take a few more swings. Matt’s breath is against your ear and you can’t help but feel a chill run down your spine straight to your core. God, his body is warm usually, but being flush behind you as you move and hit, he practically feels like white-hot iron against you. Your heart is thumping out of your chest, and it’s not just from the few swings you’ve taken. You know Matt can hear it and is going to play you like a fiddle. His own wicked form of punishment for not telling him about your training.

“Go ahead, gimme a few more, I want to feel how your body moves. See just what else Frank has been teaching you wrong.”

Frank throws his arms up in offense as you try a few more punches.

“See? More power, less effort.”

You grin, happy to finally be sharing something Matt is clearly so knowledgeable and passionate about with him. Craning your neck, you mesh your lips with his in excitement and only pull away when Frank loudly clears his throat and you remember that he is still there watching the two of you.

“Eh, so you gave her a minor tweak. Still say how I had her doing it was perfectly fine.”

Matt finally steps away from you, turning to face Frank.

“Sure Castle, but I think the real testament to your teaching skills is how she does with an actual partner.”

Matt turns his attention back to you. His hands drop from your shoulders, running down your back lightly and coming to rest on your hips. He plants a soft kiss right under your ear. His stubble is coarse against your skin, sending goosebumps across your flesh, your toes curling into the squishy mat beneath you.

“You throw any actual punches at him yet?” he asks

“A few. Landed some of them too.”

“Let her show you Murdock, maybe she can knock that cocky attitude out of you like I never could.”

Matt chuckles and shakes his head. He steps away from you, holding out a hand and leading you to the center of the room, the area in the gym dedicated to partner sparring.

You stand a few feet apart from your boyfriend, nervous to demonstrate on him. You’re not arrogant enough to think just a few weeks of training with Frank puts you anywhere near Matt’s skill level. But you also know that Matt loves you and will probably take it easy on you just to be supportive and also not hurt you, so you may just be able to get a few swings in. You don’t need the guilt of piling onto his already long list of previous injuries and scars.

Frank approaches behind you, placing a hand on your arm in reassurance as he leans close to your ear.

“Remember that knee to crotch move I showed you last week? The one I said to only use if some creep comes at you head on and you need to take him out quick?”

You nod, already shifting your feet towards the set up position for that move, trying to activate the muscle memory to bring it back into your brain.

“Well” Frank continued, “might not be a bad time to try it.”

You chuckle at his suggestion.

“Frank, you know Matt can hear all of this right?”

You glance over at your boyfriend, amused smirk painted across his lips as he stretches his perfectly toned bicep across his chest, warming up for your little face off. He’s discarded his tight black shirt in a pile beside him. A cheap bid to distract you from the task at hand with his incredible body that he knows you can’t resist.

“Yeah, just figure if he wants to be a jealous fucker why not rile him up some more? Plus it’s the least he deserves for thinking the worst from you and I, of all people.”

You try not to laugh at the statement. Frank’s askew moral compass being perfectly fine with the regular amount of murder he commits, but thinking being a taken woman’s side piece crosses a line.

He squeezes the hand still resting on your bicep in reassurance before stepping away with a wink, sending a wave of goosebumps across your skin, radiating from the point where the warmth of his touch still lingers. Frank always keeps it incredibly professional around you and you know he is pushing against the line of flirting just to get into Matt’s head.

“Ready sweetheart?” Matt asks as you step towards him, gloved fists by your face prepared to fight

“Yeah” you reply and Matt also assumes his stance, nodding in your direction as a go ahead

“Ding ding, round one!” Frank remarks

You go for the right hook first, but Matt easily blocks the hit. You throw a few more punches, all of which Matt dodges and blocks without looking like he’s putting any effort into it. He’s cocky and sly in the way that he moves, refusing to even take one swing at you but making you work stupidly hard just to get nowhere.

Fine. New strategy, you decide.

Swinging a roundhouse knee in the air, you connect directly with his ribs. The oof sounds he lets out gives you a rush of adrenaline knowing you legitimately got a hit on him. It’s incredibly short lived as he’s quick to recover. Rushing towards you, he tackles you to the mat, knocking the wind out of your lungs as your ribs connect with the floor. He’s pinned you to the point where you can barely squirm, knee pressed firmly between your legs while his arms cage you in place.

“Nice try baby, but not good enough.” he whispers in your ear, shifting his leg to provide just a little friction against your core

“Woah, take it easy on her. She’s still a beginner. She’s here to learn, not have you be an asshole to her about something you thought she did.” Frank interjects, pulling Matt off of you

“Just cause you take it easy on her Frank, doesn’t mean I have to. She wants to learn, then let her learn with a real opponent, not just you going easy on her cause she makes your dick too hard to think straight.”

“Woah!” you interject, ripping the boxing gloves off your hands while still flat on your back

“Jesus, Red” Frank exclaims as he offers out a hand to get you back on your feet

“Oh come on Frank, you’ve been hard since she walked in here. Just because you’re not banging my girlfriend doesn’t mean you haven’t thought about it. I can hear it rub against your pants every time you move. You’re a weirdo, but not nearly weird enough to show up to a gym in jeans unless you had a reason.”

“Look, I’d never…” Frank stumbles over his words, redness creeping up his neck as it tenses with every clench of his jaw

Your pulse is thumping loudly in your ears at Matt’s observation, skin flushed with heat in both embarrassment for Frank who is still stammering beside you and also a little flattered that you so effortlessly turn him on so much.

“Never? Even with my permission?” Matt inquires

Frank’s pupils grow wide at Matt’s suggestion

“Woah, hold up Matt. Permission?” you loudly exclaim, offended at Matt’s implication “Like you own me?! I’m my own person, what about my damn permission?!”

Matt scoffs at your statement and steps toward you, spinning you around so your back is once more pressed against him and you are now facing Frank, who is hesitant to look up. His gaze transfixed on the floor as he tries to find the words to refute Matt’s claims. You didn’t think sheepish was a word one could ever use to describe Frank Castle, nor did you think he’d ever back down from a fight with Matt, even a verbal one.

“Okay sweetheart, let’s talk about you then.” Matt speaks lowly, damp bare skin of his rising and falling chest pressing into your back as he speaks, his own hardness obvious as he pulls your body flush against his

“While I appreciate that you haven’t crossed any lines since you started training, that doesn't mean you’re not enjoying these nightly sessions with Frank. Your heartbeat has risen every time he's been within a foot of you or complimented your progress tonight.”

His voice rumbles against the skin of your neck, right hand snaking around to your front, tickling at the top of your leggings. For some reason, you don’t stop him, feeling a little shy but letting him tease you in front of Frank.

“And you want to talk about how wet you were when I first got here?” he continues “I could practically smell you from blocks away. Frank get you that excited, hmm?”

Frank's head snaps up at the statement and he locks eyes with you just as Matt pushes his hand all the way down, collecting the slick he was just describing on his fingers.

“Matt, I…” you attempted to protest, still watching as the lust grows in Frank’s stare while Matt runs his fingers through your folds.

There was no hiding how your body reacted to both men. The evidence drips onto Matt’s fingers as he toys with you.

“No, it’s okay sweetheart.” he reassures, placing a few kisses on your neck “I get it. Frank and I have always said we're two sides to the same coin. It makes sense we’d both find the same woman attractive. And that she’d want us both.”

Matt once again turns his attention to Frank, not relenting in his teasing of you as he slips a finger into your opening, causing a moan to escape from your lips.

“Go ahead, Frank” Matt says with a nod against your shoulder, “if it's okay with her, it's okay with me.”

Frank finally wills himself to step forward. Never wavering in how deeply his gaze is locked on you, he hovers his hands over your waist while Matt continues to lazily pump his fingers in and out of you, waiting for your go ahead. You nod, granting him the permission to finally act on the feelings you’ve both been resisting.

Frank’s trembling hand finally cradles your jaw as he leans into you and softly connects his lips with yours, taking the pace slowly to give you both the space to gauge how you’re feeling.

Matt, on the other hand, is happy to move things along as he pushes another finger inside you. Immediately working his calloused digits against that spongy spot inside you that drives you wild every time. You're not sure what causes you to groan into Frank's mouth, the way Matt touches you so expertly or the tingly sensation spreading through your body as Frank’s tongue and hands begin to explore.

Matt only removes his fingers from your core momentarily to aid Frank in ridding you of your clothes, eager to assist as it now gives him so much more easy access to your sopping cunt.

Warm, wet kisses are placed all over your heated flesh from both men as Frank’s calloused fingers dance all over you, eventually resting just above Matt’s hand to work your clit while Matt picks up his pace.

Your orgasm crashes into you like a strong current against a rocky shore, hands gripping onto Frank’s forearms to hold your self steady as you ride the waves of pleasure to the end. He watches with an almost sort of reverence as you come down, indulging in every beautiful hint of pleasure painted across your face and body.

Your cunt squeezes Matt’s fingers one last time before he removes them, allowing you to fully fall into Frank’s strong form while Matt tastes the nectar of his labor. The groan that escapes his lips is sinful as he indulges in the familiar taste of you. Meanwhile Frank is stepping away from you, shirt joining Matt’s across the gym and jeans following not long after.

You were used to staring at Matt’s scarred and muscular form, but Frank’s sculpted, but slightly beefier body is also decorated with the ghosts of his past. You can’t help but salivate at how well his toned muscles look as he frees his cock and removes the last of his clothing.

He pumps himself a few times while Matt kisses you deeply, guiding you downward.

The squishy gym floor beneath you cushions your knees as you crawl on all fours towards Matt, who is shimmying out of his cargo pants and laying down before you.

Frank follows closely as you makeout with Matt, continuing to touch himself at the sight of your bare body splayed out on the mat. He lunges forward to place a few kisses down your spine as you’re bending forward, ass in the air and inches away from taking Matt into your mouth.

As you begin to suck Matt’s length, his low moans echo out through the musty gym, lips parted in pleasure.

Once Frank is satisfied with how much you’ve got Matt worked up, he slides back up behind you, lining himself up with your entrance. You moan into Matt’s cock as Frank pushes into you.

Alternating between your mouth and your hand, you work Matt up until his eyes are pressed shut, overwhelmed by all the sensory input of Frank fucking you. Matt seizes the opportunity to sit up a little and kiss you deeply, just as Frank begins to increase the harshness of his thrusts. You can’t help but cry out in little mewls and whimpers, as Matt moves kisses down your neck and jaw and guides your lips over his cock once more.

Your legs feel as though they may give out from under you at any moment based on how violently they’re trembling. With Frank only increasing his rhythm and Matt now thrusting up to meet your face and running his nails along your back has you careening closer and closer to your edge once more.

Unable to hold back, you cum with a cry, Matt and Frank both lunging to put their lips all over your skin as you do, sandwiching you in a throng of sweaty flesh and ecstasy.

Pulled fully on your knees now, Matt reaches down to where Frank was just fucking you, running his fingers through your folds again and sending your already overstimulated nerves into over drive.

The room around you now feels stifling, the heat of three bodies in such a state of activity not able to compete with the squeaky and outdated hvac system buzzing above you head. Frank and Matt are both damp, hair sticking to their flushed foreheads as their mouths hang agape in an attempt to slow their panting. Matt’s hazel eyes dart back and forth, reading the signs that both you and Frank are ready for more; the steadying of your heartbeats, the evening of your breaths, and the minuscule sounds of both your muscles relaxing as the seconds tick on. Even though you’ve leveled out a little bit, you’re still dizzy with pleasure and your heart rate surges right back up as Matt moves to position you on your back.

“Atta girl.” Frank encourages as the sticky flesh of your back meets the soft, rubbery floor. He’s laying down beside you, hands roaming over your breasts and taking a nipple into his mouth just as Matt pushes himself forward, beginning to work his tongue all over your pussy.

The crescendo of pleasure begins to grow deep within you again, Matt knowing just how to expertly play you like a conductor leading a symphony as he kisses and sucks on your clit. He inserts a finger just as Frank grabs your jaw, shoving his tongue into your mouth.

Frank’s kisses move down your jaw and towards your ear, whispering sweet praises while Matt continues to eat you.

“Shit sweetheart, look so pretty when you cum. Knew you would. Let me see it again, come on, all over Red’s face. Atta girl.”

While Matt is always phenomenal in bed, never have you heard him talk as filthy as Frank. Usually his moans and grunts turned you on plenty, but Frank’s words are a welcome, new sensation that has another orgasm crashing through you before you even realize its happening.

You practically shove Matt off you as you know he’d be content to just keep going until you were over stimulated to the point of tears. He chuckles and wipes away the slick you left on his mouth and chin.

“Sweetie, you want to help Frank finish while I remind you who you belong to? Hm?” Matt asks as he crawls to hover over you, lining up just the tip of his cock with your slit and causing your cunt to clench around nothing

“Yes, Matt.” you respond, propping yourself up on your elbows so Frank can have his turn fucking your mouth

Frank’s scoff is cut off with a groan of pleasure as you wrap your mouth around him and suck his length towards the back of your throat.

“What Castle?” Matt asks, still teasing your hole while he listens to you blow Frank “You think just because I’m sharing doesn’t mean she’s only mine?”

“Ah shit– I know Red. I know.” Frank replies, chin tilted down to watch the way you look up at him as you swallow him down

“Good.” Matt responds, before harshly thrusting all the way into you.

The vibrations of your moans from how intensely you’re getting fucked, plus the sight of you taking Matt’s dick while sucking him off causes a build up in Frank much quicker than he’d like. Part of his ego doesn’t want to finish before Matt, so he guides you by the jaw off of him and resumes laying on the floor, supporting your head with his chest and guiding your hand to his hardness so he can watch the show and also help you cum a final time while staving off his own orgasm a little while longer.

“That’s it sweetheart” he coos in your ear, hand steady around your throat while you stare up into his eyes and work him over with your hand. Your skin feels on fire as they toy with you, every brush of them against you like electricity firing through your nerves.

You can tell Matt is close by the way his face is scrunched up, focusing on only the feeling of your body beneath his and trying to tune out the rest of the world around. You can only assume Frank is as well, based on how much tighter his grip has gotten around your neck as you continue to jack him off and by how his sweet praises are now replaced with grunts occasionally punctuated by a singular swear word.

Frank reaches his calloused fingers down to goad you along, rubbing your clit in smooth circles, a stark contrast to the harshness of Matt’s now faltering pace.

The slapping of skin over and over combined with the lust-filled groans and moans all of you are making has your head spinning and your final orgasm blooms like a rose in late July, soft and warm and delicate in a way that only these two working in tandem can give you.

Frank watches as you fall apart a final time, not stopping his assault on your sensitive bud until he’s satisfied with how hard you've orgasmed.

You’re totally spent and laying back against Frank. Too distracted by how delicious every drag of Matt’s cock feels against your satisfied walls, you let him use you while you revel in the dissipating fizz of your body being so thoroughly fulfilled. Barely able to even reach up and stroke the taught muscle of Matt’s chest, you do though as a small act of gratitude for sharing you tonight and allowing you to experience such pleasure. Frank takes over for your weak and trembling hands, touching himself while kissing whatever area of your skin he can reach to bring you back down.

Matt’s senses are overwhelmed. The smell of pure sex invades his nostrils and he can still feel the aftershocks of your orgasm in the light pulses of your velvety walls every time he drives into you. Frank’s musky scent blends so beautifully with your natural, floral smell and hearing your satisfied sighs being breathed into Frank's soft kisses is the most beautiful music he’s ever heard. Your hands trace down from his chest and rest on the back of his thighs, encouraging him to find his nirvana as his thrusts become erratic.

“Matty.” you let out in a breathy lament and it finally tips him off the cliff, spilling inside you with a low moan that will echo in your ears for days to come.

Frank, unable to hold himself back any longer and cheekily pleased that he held off longer than Matt, even if it was only for a moment, spills across his stomach and chest as you kiss him through his orgasm while still stroking Matt’s skin to bring him down.

The three of you collapse side by side under the humming fluorescent lights of the gym, labored breathing finally slowing as you all come back to reality.

“Tell you what Red, that was a hell of a warm up for your girl. Ain’t that right sweetheart?” Frank finally speaks up, gravely voice cutting through the silence.

“You’ve got to be kidding Frank, I am not training tonight after all that!” you argue back

Frank turns towards you and presses a kiss to your temple before standing up and finding his clothes.

“Matt, c’mon back me up here.” you turn to your boyfriend and watch as his signature cheeky grin spreads wide across his face.

“You know my dad and I had this mantra, this thing we’d say before every fight he had ‘It ain't how you hit the mat. It's how you get up.’

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“It means, you better get back up and do what Frank tells you.”

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #daredevil #frank castle #frank castle x reader #charlie cox #nmcu fic #mcu fic #daredevil fic #matt murdock x you #marvel daredevil #daredevil imagine #jon bernthal

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