#why do i only ever see this shit when i’m already hurt | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kissitbttr · 10 months

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this is miguel o’hara being a dick

pairing: miguel o’hara x fem!reader

miguel knows he’s fucked.

he has been neglecting you, putting his work above your needs and ditched on dates he can’t count with his fingers. at first you were okay, given that you’re dating such a busy man like him, you understand the consequences.

but you’ve had enough. there were nights where you cooked dinner, only to be left untouched by him or where you softly cried yourself in the middle of the night because he was still out. the only time he comes home is when you’re already asleep, then he left to the HQ in the morning before you’ve gotten the chance to wake up.

you confronted him about this. paid a visit to his office before going to work. Jess and Lyla had warned you to not disturb him but you managed to make them back off with a single frightening look.

yes. they are scared of you. a lot of them are. they do not want to test you at all.

the moment you stepped into his office, he didn’t even bother to look. eyes were just too focused on his work that he assumed Jess was the one who walked in.

“oh, you’re fucking your co-worker now?” your tone laced with sarcasm and anger with arms crossed over your chest,

hearing the familiar voice, he had never whipped his head so fast. “y/n? what are you doing here?”

“well” you start, heels clicking against the floor as you step towards him. “since my boyfriend has been MIA for almost a week i figured i should stopped by.”

his head shook, turning his focus back to what he thought mattered most. “not right now, mi amor. I’m working.”

“i can see that, dumbass” you respond in a cold tone. frowning as to why he couldn’t take one second off from that god damn screen. “you and me are going to get breakfast together. now. before i go to work.”

“i told you I can’t. I’m busy” he replies, brushing you off with his hand. “next time.”

“i’m a busy woman too!” your voice shakes, wanting so bad to scream at him and throw that tiny desk at his head. “but I always want to make time for you, Miguel!”

no response. he muttered something under his breath but you couldn’t hear him.

un-fucking-believable

“you’re such a fucking asshole, you know that?” tone laced with venom as you spit the words. clenching your fists by your side as you struggle to hold back the tears. “i feel like this relationship is one sided, the only person that is truly making an effort is me. you don’t—“

Miguel couldn’t take it anymore. he threw a desk and it went flying, thankfully it didn’t hit you. though your eyes went wide in shock, a loud gasp left your lips as you covered your mouth with your hands.

“you’re right! I don’t! I don’t care about some silly little fucking breakfast when the universe depends on me!” he pointed at himself as his irises turned red when he looked at you. his breathing went heavy and he still wasn’t aware how scared you were at him at that point.

“do you have any idea how fucking hard it is to keep all this shit together?! how many people will die if i don’t do what i gotta do! I don’t always like it, y/n but i have to do it! and here you are trying to play house with me it’s fucking pathetic!” he scoffed, putting his hands on hips.

oh he did not realize how much his words hurt.

the room was filled with silence. you stared at him in disbelief but remained a stoic expression. you were taught better than to be weak before any men. Miguel was no exception. your mother would be disappointed if you let a man win.

“wow” you breathed, nodding. “that was a good speech actually, the longest one I’ve ever heard you talking” you tried to sound sarcastic but how you felt and how you sounded failed you.

Miguel was quick to notice this and his features quickly soften. he reached out quickly to hold you.

“cariño i—“

“I’m returning back to my apartment by five. do not fucking look for me” it was final. the way you said it, how your eyes remained empty as you spoke to him. Miguel knew better than to test you,

but he just did and now he’s paying the price,

his heart broke when he heard you said that. you were so tired of him and you just wanted him back. you want your man back but he couldn’t see how that mattered to you.

“baby, please—“

you held your hand as you turned around. “don’t you even think about sending Jess or Miles my way.”

with that you walked out of his office without uttering another word. leaving him speechless and heartbroken. he knew better than to follow you out, it would just make things worse. he was just going to let you cool off.

he didn’t know how long it was gonna take.

it has been almost a month that you two have been living separately. and he’s losing his mind. he can’t sleep, he can’t eat, he can barely walk out of the house without seeing all the things that remind him of you. the team even sensed something is wrong because he has been more short tempered than before and it almost made the rest of spider society terrified of talking to him.

he’s gotten more violent, that’s for sure. every enemy he encountered, he would leave them bleed with their faces unrecognizable. it was his way of taking his stress out. not exactly healthy but it’ll do for now.

but he thinks that this has gotten too far. he misses you terribly, your scent, your laugh, your voice, your body, and mostly… your pussy

God, the amount of times he sniffed your panties while he jacked off as the image of you clouded his mind was simply not enough.

and now here he stands before your apartment door. dressed nicely in a white buttoned up shirt with his sleeves rolled to the elbows and a pair of black pants. his ring cladded fingers nervously grip around the boquete as the other hand shoved into his pocket.

Miguel had never been this nervous before. toeing his shoes and tapping his toes against the floor rapidly. it’s probably already been fifteen minutes that he’s standing like that staring at your door. thinking far too carefully what he wants to say.

he decides it’s now or never as he raises his fist and knock softly against the wooden door, hoping that you’re home.

“coming!” he hears your voice, his stomach somersaults hearing that after what it felt like a thousand year. “i am so hungry, why are you delivery guys always taking so—“

soon as you open the door, you freeze. definitely not the takeout delivery boy and instead it’s the one person you’ve been avoiding for God knows how long.

Miguel’s mouth hangs open slightly as he slowly taking in the sight of the gorgeous woman before him. you put on your favorite lime green night gown that stops just above your knees with a white silky robe, your hair fall down gracefully. natural curls framing your face. eyes glinting under the light, he almost falls to his knees and thank the Lord for your existence.

beauty doesn’t even begin to describe how you look tonight.

Miguel realizes how he probably looks like an idiot. clearing his throat to regain his composure as he smiles awkwardly at you. “Hi.”

you stare at him as your features then showcase a displeased expression. “what are you doing here?”

you’re leaning your body against the doorframe, arms crossed in annoyance. eyes flickering from his face to the flowers he’s holding and back up to his eyes. as much as you hate to see him, you can’t help that little feeling of butterflies in your stomach when you see the flowers he’s holding.

tulips. your favorite

he takes a one step closer to your frame, breathing out a sigh as he looks down at you. “I’m sorry, mi amor.”

that earns a scoff from you, looking away. “good start.”

“i was a horrible boyfriend.” he admits, gulping as he sees how sadness and exhaustion taking over your face just like that. “you don’t deserve that. what i said to you that day… none of it was true. you were not… pathetic, nor were the idea of having breakfast together… I appreciate every single thing we’ve done together, baby. believe me, por favor…”

a hard stare is the only thing he gets from you. the way your lips form into an angry pout and how your eyes seem to get tired and bored from his confession.

you’re a difficult person to please. he knows that.

“i know that being stress is no excuse of what I’ve done… I should’ve—fuck I should’ve done better. a month without you was like hell, mi corazon. ay, me sentí como si estuviera perdiendo la cabeza.” he sighs in frustration, head shaking as he recalls many sleepless nights. “i love you so so much. i do not want to go through that again … i know that it’s going to take forever to get your trust back and everything, but i swear on my mother’s grave that i—“

“stop talking”

he shuts his mouth after that. eyes looking up to you when he realizes you’re talking to him after a prolonged silence that’s taking over.

seeing how broken he looks almost feels like your heart got plucked. as mean as you are or as much as you wanted to look like you don’t care, you can’t when it comes to Miguel. you love this man far too much and despite his cold cold persona, that’s a huge sweetheart underneath.

“you hurt me, Miguel.” eyes casting down the floor as you try to keep your voice low. “you threw a desk to my direction…”

he shakes his head at that, resisting the urge to cradle your cheek. “lo siento, mi amor. I didn’t mean—“

“yes i know, i heard you.” you sigh, eyes closed momentarily. “you scared me”

Miguel feels his heart breaks when he hears how your voice breaks. he carefully lifts his hand to softly palm your cheek, thumb grazing against the skin. he exhales a soft sigh when you aren’t pushing him off.

“I didn’t mean to do that to you, my love. fuck, I’ve hurt you. i will never forgive myself for that. i was supposed to be the one who protect you and i was being a huge asshole.”

“a cute one though” you pout at him,

he chuckles at that, feeling the tension between you two are finally cutting down. “you’re too sweet, baby… after all i had done to you”

“nothing compared to how you treated me for the past two and a half years.” you smile sweetly at him, hand wrapping around his wrist. feeling at home once he holds you in his palm. “still a good man.”

he shakes his head in disagreement. “no, no that doesn’t excuse it… i was in the wrong.”

you hum in response, looking at the pretty flowers still in his hand. “are those for me?”

he nods with a smile, “you’re my only woman, no?”

you bite the inside of your cheek as you smile, taking it from his grasp as you sniff the pretty petals. “i love them. thank you.”

he once again goes quiet, taking another step closer. eyes looking down at your glossy lips and he can’t take it anymore. he doesn’t care if he’s stepping boundaries here. “i miss you, cariño. can i show you just how much?”

his offer sends shiver down your spine, making it impossible for you to stand still. Miguel always knows your sweet spot, how to make your knees feel wobbly without having him to touch you.

you do miss him touching you,

“i have a ballet class to teach tomorrow, papi. Saturday morning class, you remember ?” a pout formed on your lips, yet you still allow him to pull you close to him as he closes the door behind. “plus don’t you have work too? i bet Jess needs you.”

Migue nearly growls at you calling him ‘papi’. his jeans growing tight as you look up to him with doe eyes that you know he loves. though sometimes, you don’t understand the effect you have on him.

“that can wait… you’re more important to me than anything” he whispers, giving your open hand a kiss. large palm coming down to grip your waist, giving it a light squeeze. “do you want me too?”

you respond with a slow nod, biting back a smile as you interlock your hand with his pulling him inside. his smirk grows wider as he leans over to capture your mouth in his,

“let me fuck you real good then we can come home, eh mi vida?” he promises against your lips, slipping your soft silky robe off of you before picking you up in bridal style causing to shriek and giggle,

“i wanna hear you scream my name.”

part 2?

#miguel o’hara blurbs #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara angst

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puckinghischier · 8 days

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Surprise…?

Luke Hughes x fem!reader

summary: anon request for luke getting hurt during a game

notes: y’all i think i struggle writing luke for some reason. i just never seem to really like what i write when i write for him. wtf am i doing wrong 😩

[3.3k]

There weren’t many times you regretted moving to Jersey, but right now was one of them. The constant traffic within the city wasn’t something that usually got under your skin, but today it was the absolute bane of your existence. Of course, you were in a hurry. A big one. You had approximately thirty minutes until puck drop, and you needed to get there before that puck hit that ice. No exceptions. You hadn’t told Luke what you were doing, so he probably already expected you to be there, wondering why you’re not in your usual seat for warm-ups.

As if he could hear your thoughts, your phone buzzed with a message from Luke, not being able to read what it said while trying to weave in and out of traffic.

“Quinn, can you see what Luke just sent. And then tell him I’m on my way. I don’t want him worrying that I’m not showing tonight,” you ask the Hughes brother currently in your passenger seat.

Quinn grabbed your phone from the cupholder, listening to you rattle off your passcode so he can open Luke’s message.

“He asked where you were, and if you were already there. Wanted to know why you weren’t in your seat for warm ups,” Quinn confirms your thoughts, looking to you for an answer.

“Tell him I’m just running late. Be there before puck drop. And tell him I love him and good luck.”

You hear the sound of Quinn typing your reply as you increase your speed, cursing the people who want to drive below the speed limit in the fast lane. This is what you get for trying to be a good girlfriend and surprise your boyfriend and his brother. You get stuck on the road with New Jersey’s worst drivers.

In your defense, you were supposed to already be safely at the arena in your seats, but Quinn’s airline had different plans. His flight being delayed by three hours gave you barely enough time to run and grab him from the airport and make it back to the Rock before the hockey game started. The only thing saving your ass right now is the fact that if you can just get there, you can go through the player entrance and avoid the crowds trying to get in at the last minute.

“If you don’t calm down and drive like a sane person, we’re never going to get there. We’ll be squashed on the side of the road,” Quinn scolds you, grasping what your dad always called the ‘oh shit’ handles.

“If I can just get around these idiots in front of me we’ll be fine. We’re almost at our exit, then I just have to pull around back and we’re in,” you tell him, once again pressing the gas pedal a little harder.

Quinn stays silent the rest of the drive, closing his eyes once you start speeding around the other cars on the freeway, finally getting to the right exit and rushing to the underground parking that the players always park in. You pull your car into the spot next to Jack’s car, barely even turning the car off before you’re jumping out and sprinting to the entrance.

“C’mon, Quinn! I know you can move faster than that! We only have a few minutes! Move it!” You yell over your shoulder, Quinn barely having gotten out of the car.

“Remind me to never let you drive ever again,” is all he says as he catches up to you, looking a little greener than before.

The two of you make it inside the arena with no issues, sprinting to your seats just as the national anthem finishes, both teams sending their starting lines out on the ice.

You had managed to snag Quinn a seat next to you, asking the team’s manager for a favor to help surprise their rookie defenseman. With no hesitation, he handed you a ticket and a locker room pass for Quinn, knowing how homesick Luke had been lately. You had thanked him a million times, asking him to keep it a secret from both Jack and Luke, not wanting either one of them to know until the day of. He gave you his word, and was also the reason you were given access to the player parking for the night, not wanting Quinn to be ambushed by fans going through the regular entrance.

You felt your heart rate start to slow once you were both situated in your seats, glad that you had made it in time. Neither Jack nor Luke had looked over and noticed you yet, wondering if they were going to clock Quinn before they took their stances on the ice.

Your question was soon answered as Jack looked back and saw you, waving and turning to get Luke’s attention before he did a double take, noticing the brunette sitting to you left. Quinn gave a small wave, flashing his younger brother a smile as you watched Jack’s eyes widen, mouth curving into beaming smile. Luke had turned back, looking in your direction, a relieved smile on his face once he noticed you were finally in your spot, eyes too focused on your figure to notice Quinn’s next to you. It wasn’t until he looked over at Jack and followed his gaze that he finally noticed his oldest brother in the crowd, a Devil’s hat on his head.

Luke’s eyes flicked over to you once again, mouthing ‘what the fuck?’ to you, your only response a shrug of the shoulders and a smirk on your face.

The two brothers quickly focused their attention to the officials on the ice, lowered into their stances, waiting for the puck to drop onto the ice.

“You know they’re going to compete now, right?” Quinn says as he elbows you to get your attention.

“Why would they compete? They’re literally playing for the same team. It doesn’t matter who scores as long as the team wins,” you respond, confused at Quinn’s words.

“It matters now. They do the same thing when mom or dad come to watch them. They want the praise. They want to be able to out perform the other so they can brag about it to me after the game,” Quinn clarifies.

“I don’t know about that. Jack’s been good about trying to set Luke up for success all year, I think they’ll surprise you.”

Quinn gives you a skeptical look, not believing your words, but lets it go otherwise; his attention quickly stolen by the sound of the puck hitting the ice, followed by clashing sticks and skates scraping against the frozen floor.

Much to your surprise, Quinn proved to be right. All throughout the first period, the two brothers fought to get the puck, sometimes even fighting against one another. You noticed the odd looks from their teammates, Nico even skating over to Jack during a tv timeout to ask him what was up, not having seen the pair act like this before. You kept throwing glares at Luke, trying to tell him to knock it off, that they’re playing for the same team, but he wouldn’t look at you for more than a few seconds at a time.

As the second period started, the competition between Jack and Luke had nearly ceased to exist. You assumed they got their asses chewed in the locker room during the intermission, noting how their coach seemed to watch them like a hawk. Once the brothers started actually playing together instead of against one another, the Devil’s were scoring goals left and right, putting up four goals before the end of the second period, one Luke’s and two being Jack’s.

With only three minutes left in the second period, Luke was attempting to get possession of the puck from behind the net, fighting two of the opposing players for the black piece of rubber. He lost control of the puck, and in a moment of frustration, pushed one of the enemy players in the back, wanting out of the sandwich they had put him in. The player he pushed fell forward onto the ice, drawing a penalty on Luke. The official had blown the whistle, stopping gameplay, when Luke looked over at him, frustrated at the call.

What Luke didn’t see was the player who had gotten the puck come skating up behind him at full speed, pushing Luke so hard his skates came out from under him, causing him to land on the ice on his back. He was angled just enough, though, that his body slid at high speed straight into the bottom of the wall a few feet away, head bouncing off the boards along the ice.

You were on your feet immediately, hands flying to the glass in front of you, begging for him to get up. Quinn jumped to his feet next to you, placing a hand on your shoulder, whether to comfort you or himself, you don’t know. Jack leaves his spot on the bench to skate over to his brother, falling to his knees on the ice, hovering above Luke.

Luke hadn’t moved yet. Not a foot twitch, a roll over in pain, or a thumbs up to let anyone know he’s okay. He’s laying lifeless on the ice, trainers calling his name, careful not to touch his head or neck. Your hand flies to cover your mouth, a sob making its way out of you when you noticed the stretcher being put on stand-by near the tunnel. Everything feels like it’s in slow motion, time stopped as Luke continues to lay, unmoving. Quinn tries to move you back from the glass, averting your attention from the scene in front of you, but your eyes are glued to Luke’s body.

You thought you imagined the twitch of his foot, thinking it was where the medics were tapping his leg, trying to coax him awake. When you finally see his body try to roll over, you let out the breath that you didn’t even know you were holding. Your relief was short-lived, however, when you hear the scream that makes its way out of Luke’s throat. You’re not sure which one hurt worse, him lying there not moving or the scream of agony that’s currently echoing through the arena.

Your knees start to give out, eyes blurring from the tears falling down your face. Quinn catches you as you slide down the glass, holding your sobbing figure in a crouched position.

“Quinn, gotta go. Gotta go, locker rooms,” you manage to say between sobs, trying to stand and make your way out of the stands.

“Okay, yeah, let’s go. Let’s get you out of here.”

The fans watch as Quinn guides you out of your seats and up the stairs. Most of them familiar with you, you and Luke not being super private with your relationship. A lot of them are still shouting obscenities at the player who went after Luke, demanding he be suspended. Some of them give you sad smiles as you pass, hoping your rookie is okay.

You finally reach the entrance to the training room, knowing this is where they’ll have taken him before they decide if he needs a hospital or not. You can hear them in there talking to him, unsure if you should enter yet or wait on someone to come out and get you. You stand at the doors, staring into space, when Quinn decides to speak up.

“He’s gonna be fine, Y/N. Probably a gnarly bruise, and likely a concussion, but it could’ve been worse. I know its scary, but I promise, he’s going to be okay. Might not even miss more than a game or two.”

All you can do is nod at the words, unable to do much else at the moment. You try to give a small smile, but you think it comes across as more of a grimace. You turn your head when you hear the door to the training room opens, revealing one of the team trainers.

“Oh, good, you’re already down here. He’s asking for you. Wants you to know he’s awake and okay. Nothing’s broken, just banged up and a mild concussion. Probably going to have him follow up with a doctor tomorrow, but for now he just needs rest. You can go ahead and go in. He won’t be playing the rest of the night,” the man in front of you finishes, stepping aside so you can walk through the open door.

You turn back to look at Quinn, seeing if he’s going to come with you.

“I’ll just give you two a minute first. Go ahead, I’ll be right behind you,” he tells you, wanting a minute to process his own emotions before seeing his baby brother.

You nod and turn to walk into the training room, following the trainer down a short hallway before turning the corner into a room with three different treatment tables, Luke’s long body taking up the farthest one. His head is laying back on a pillow, a large ice pack taped to his right shoulder. His gear is laying in a pile on the floor next to him, completely bare from the waist up. As you get closer, you can see the already purple skin forming in the exposed parts of his shoulder and upper arm. You gasp quietly at the bruised skin, causing Luke’s head to snap up at the sound.

“Hey, pretty girl,” he rasps out, voice raw from his screams earlier.

You stop on the side of the bed opposite to his injury, unable to say anything yet. Tears still streaming down your face, looking him over for any other signs of injury.

“Hey, no need to cry, angel. I’m okay, see. Just a little bruise. Nothing to be worried about. You should see the other guy,” he tries to joke, being told he left a dent in the wall where he hit.

You glare at him through your tears, unhappy with his weak attempt at joke.

“Okay, yeah, maybe not the time to joke just yet,” he brings the hand on his good arm up to rub the back of his neck, looking away from your tear-stained face.

“You were unconscious, Luke…you weren’t moving,” is all you managed, staring at his injured shoulder.

“I know, baby, I know. But I’m awake now, see?” he gestures towards his body with his good arm. “I’m just fine. Yapping ability unaffected,” he once again tries to bring a smile to your face, this time it almost works.

“God, Luke, if you could’ve heard the scream you let out,” you shudder at the memory. “It was the worst sound I’ve ever heard in my life. I thought my heart was going to rip in two right there on the spot. I don’t ever want to hear the sound again,” you finally look at his face, noting the small cut on his forehead, you assume from his helmet.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry you had to witness all of it. I can’t imagine how it must’ve looked,” his tone apologetic. “If the roles were reversed, I don’t think I would have been able to keep myself from trying to climb over the glass to get to you. But I promise, sweetheart, I’m fine. Told me as long as my head’s fine I should only have to miss two or three games to let the bruise run its course,” he grabs your hand, rubbing small circles with his thumb.

“It was just so scary, Luke,” you sniffle, closing your eyes for a brief moment. You finally start to calm down now that his hand is in yours.

“I know. But now you get to play doctor and take care of me for a few days. Kiss all my boo boo’s better,” Luke wiggles his eyebrows at you, finally earning that laugh he’s been trying to get out of you since you walked in.

“That was probably one of the ickiest things you’ve ever said to me,” you laugh with Luke, fake gagging for dramatic effect.

Luke opens his mouth to say something else, but the the doors to the training room open, cutting him off. The familiar sound of skates against the floor making their way towards the two of you. Jack turns the corner, a frantic look in his eyes until he lands on Luke, awake and sitting up.

“I’m going to kill you for scaring me like that,” Jack points a finger, glaring at his younger brother. “I mean, why the fuck did you hit him, Luke! What were you thinking? You know how these guys are, they’re begging for any excuse to fight! They don’t care if you’re a 20 something rookie, they’re gonna hit back, dumbass!” Jack yells at Luke, throwing his arms around in frustration.

Luke winces at the volume of Jack’s voice, his ears sensitive to loud noises right now. Before you can get the words out to tell Jack to be quieter, Quinn enters the room and does it for you.

“Jack, be quiet for fuck’s sake. He has a concussion; you yelling at him is only going to make it worse. Yell at him later.”

“Well, it was stupid, Q. What he did was stupid,” Jack says in a normal tone of voice, still angry.

“Don’t act like you’ve never done anything stupid on the ice before. Just because you never get caught when you hit people doesn’t mean you don’t do it,” Quinn walks over to stand beside Jack at the end of the table.

“You good, Moose? Looked pretty nasty out there from where I was sitting. Scared us, man,” Quinn asks Luke, tapping him on the foot. You note the redness of Quinn’s eyes, knowing how much he cares for both of his brothers. The whole situation shook him up, too, you were just too worried about Luke to notice at the time.

“Yeah, m’alright. Head hurts. Shoulder feels like it’s been run over by the ‘boni, but other than that I got off pretty clean. Nothing’s broken. Have to miss two games at least, more if my head ain’t right,” Luke answers Quinn, moving his hand so he can thread his fingers through yours.

“Your head’s never been right, Moose,” Jack says, causing Luke to roll his eyes.

Quinn leans over to bump his shoulder into Jack’s, shaking his head, unimpressed with his joke.

“Wait,” Luke starts, causing everyone to look up at him. “Are we just not going to address the fact that Quinn randomly showed up to the game tonight?”

“Yeah, how did you get here. Shouldn’t you be in Vancouver right now?” Jack adds, looking over at his older brother suspiciously.

Quinn looks over to you, causing the other two Hughes to shift their gaze your way.

“Surprise?” you say as a question, not knowing what to do with all the eyes in the room on you.

“You did this?” You look over at Luke, nearly eye level with him, even though he’s laying on the table beside you.

“Well, I know you’ve been struggling with adjusting to life here lately, and you were feeling pretty homesick, so I figured it would be nice for you to have both of your brothers in Jersey for a night or two,” you shrug your shoulders, not seeing the big deal with your actions.

“Tried to get your parents here, too, but they couldn’t leave work right now. They sent their love and apologies, though. Promised me they’d be at a game as soon as they could,” you added, wishing you could’ve had all the Hughes here tonight.

“I….I don’t know what to say,” Luke looks at you, so much affection in his eyes it makes you squirm.

“Well, a thank you would be a nice start,” you joke.

“Thank you. I love you. So much. If I could lean over to kiss you right now I would,” Luke brings your hand up to his mouth, placing a kiss on the back of your hand clasped in his.

“Please, for the love of god, don’t make me witness anything else painful tonight,” Jack interrupts the moment, earning a slap to the back of the head from Quinn.

“Don’t you have a game to go finish, jackass?”

“Oh, shit, yeah,” Jack jumps, forgetting about the last period that’s about to start. “See you at home, Moose, Q. You, too, Y/N. Assume you’re staying over to help take care of the patient, yeah?” He nods his head towards the injured one in the room.

“Yeah, I’ll be there. Be safe, Jack. Good luck,” you wave as he turns to leave.

“I’ll go pull the car around, be back in a few to help you get this ole’ goon out of here,” Quinn announces before leaving you and Luke alone once more.

“So, you’re really going to stay over? Play nurse for me?” Luke asks, looking at you with puppy dog eyes, batting his eyelashes.

“Of course I’m staying over. I can’t trust Jack to make sure you’re not up and around doing something stupid when you’re supposed to be resting.”

“So, if you’re going to play nurse, does this mean we can stop on the way home and get you one of those sexy nurse outfits?” Luke asks, eyes hopeful.

“Maybe they should’ve just left you out there unconscious on the ice, you were less annoying that way,” you fire back, smiling at the laugh Luke let out, thanking your lucky stars your boy is okay.

#luke hughes x you #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes oneshot #luke hughes blurb #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes fanfic #luke hughes #hughes brothers #lh43 #new jersey devils #hockey #nhl blurb #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction #nhl oneshot

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paigebueckersmommy · 16 days

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court side - p.b

dom!paige x reader

warning: 18+, smut, p eating

you and paige had been dating 4 months, but to the outside world you were just best friends. she had gotten you courtside tickets to her game against duke. you were wearing her jersey with a pair of jeans you knew she loved on you, and with her jersey added on top of that, you knew she would be going crazy.

you arrived to the arena 30 minutes before the game was scheduled to start. the time had passed and when the player walked in, you had your back turned to where the players were coming out of talking with a fan of paige’s.

when paige had walked out you only knew because the cheers just got louder, you turned around and felt paige’s eyes on you and the smirk you loved across here face. you smiled back and started blushing. by halftime your throat hurt from cheering in your girlfriend, screaming things such has “YES KK”, “YOU GOT IT P”, “YES ASH U GOT IT” and more, supporting the rest of her teammates whom you adored. you felt paige’s eyes on you periodically through the game, wether it was because of how tight your jeans were or the way your jersey looked on her. when the red and blue confetti came down, your screams got even louder. you were so proud of paige, she was the best thing that had came into your life.

you were on the court post game and was celebrating with the team, you went back to your apartment anticipating the sound of paige’s keys jingling in your door. you were on your couch with youtube on the tv watching paige’s best highlights, you just couldn’t get enough of the way she played the sport she loved.

when you finally heard the sound of her keys i got so excited and ran to the door, i was still wearing her jersey and a pair of spandex, which she also loved to see me in. “hey mama” paige said with a grin when she opened my door, “hi baby” you say giggling as she pulls you in for a kiss. “the kiss immediately becomes heated, she picks you up to carry you to your bedroom, “your such a slut, wearing that to my game? you distracted me.” paige said, with an angry undertone, but the smirk curling up in the left side of her face. knowing she wasn’t being serious, you replied. “aw i’m so sorry, is that why you were being so agressive in the game?” “damn right, you were all i could think about during the post game interview.” paige said.

she hovers over you as she kisses you, only for you to push her off. “i’m taking control tonight” you say with a grin full of lust. “oh really? we’ll see how you do with it.” paige says cockily. you are now hovering over her in a passionate kiss. you kiss your way down her body with paige murmuring curse words your whole way down, “mm fuck please ma”, paige says with desperation. you reach her clothes pussy, already so wet. “your already this wet, hm? i thought ‘we’ll see how i do’ am i doing good?” i say with a grin of cockiness, “so damn good pretty girl, your doing so damn good” your girlfriend says already out of breath. i slip my tongue in between her folds, earning a breathy moan from paige, i giggle against her pussy with satisfaction. paige had the prettiest pussy i had ever seen, which sounds impossible but everything about it was perfect. i started sucking on her clit, earning multiple moans from paige i a row, i enter my toung into her throbbing cunt and a few min ur es later paige’s releases under me. “holy shit holy shit fuck fuck” paige says breathlessly. i come back from in between her legs, around my mouth soaked with her juices, my toung still having remnants of her cum. “holy fuck you’re so good at that,” paige says, still recovering from her orgasm. “oh really? you thought i couldn’t make you cum P?” i said, savoring paige’s taste.

i clean up my mouth and chin in the bathroom, coming back to paige i lay down next to her. i tucked her hair behind her ear, saying “i love you paige, more than anyone.” paige smiles, which makes me smile. her smile could light up any room it needed to. paige kisses you, slipping her Toung into your mouth grazing your teeth. “i love you more than you will ever know, my beautiful girl.” paige says in the soft voice that makes me practically melt.

a/n: im so sorry this was really short and my spelling is off 😭

#paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #paige buckets #uconn wbb #uconn women’s basketball #Spotify

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meiieiri · 3 months

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𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐦𝐚 𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐥’𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 [toji fushiguro]

synopsis: after the two brats from tokyo jujutsu tech took the star plasma vessel, toji momentarily sets his eyes on an uncompensated target, you.

warnings. dark explicit sex. voyeurism. dumbification. size kink. overstimulation. unprotected sex.

a/n: help i’m writing this in the lab while waiting for my reflux setup to finish its shit. also my lab coworker just passed by me and i deadass had to cross my legs FUCK why am i so filthy

toji watched from the cctv cameras in the apartment, licking his lips when he sees someone who didn’t quite show up on the briefing sheet shu gave him. he couldn’t help it and he was alone right now, his handler had to take a call. shit, school uniforms are always so short and skimpy these days. his veiny hand finds his stiff throbbing cock, his thumb pressing against the angry tip coating it with his thick cum as the woman on the laptop casually sweeps the mess of the apartment, your cute little butt on full display as you bend over to pick something up from the ground.

and that’s what led to this — shu wondering where toji took the fucking van and him splitting you open on his cock with his head thrown back as you clench around him. “w-wait—“

“i waited the entire day, baby,” toji smirks as you squirm underneath him, your expression pained, he hasn’t even bottomed out yet, and you ‘re already on the verge of tears, gasping and clawing at his back as he slowly inches in as you adjust to his girth before slowly pulling back out only to inch back in a little further again. he stops when he is barely halfway sheathed into your pussy, his hips stuttering when he feels just how tight you are, he’s had women before – loads of ‘em, he spends his hard-earned cash on typical prostitutes but none could ever compare to virgin-tight naive little school girls like you.

toji, the man assigned to hunt down your sister or so he haughtily said when he barged into your apartment this afternoon, is just so big, you could tell just from how he towered over you earlier, his hardened cock bulging through his grey sweatpants as he tells you to be quiet and just let him fondle your dripping cunt.

“w-won’t fit toji,” you whimpered helplessly, “y-you’re too big.”

“maybe if you stopped squeezing my damn cock it won’t hurt so much.”

toji wants to give in to the primal urge to just slam into you, impale you on his cock as he drills into your virgin-tight pussy, but he seems to be enjoying this little back and forth between you two — every time he sinks deeper into your soaking wet cunt, you instinctively try to move away for a bit, shying away from the discomfort, as if you didn’t want this when this rugged-looking mercenary politely asked if you could be his cocksleeve for today.

“c’mon, all you do is whine but you really just want me to stuff you full with my cum,” he tangles his fingers in your hair, angling his thrusts so that he could see the outline of his stiff cock on the skin of your lower midriff. he groans when your fingernails drag across his back when he picks up his already animalistic pace. “see that? hah, you’re practically sucking me in.”

you shake your head at his lewd words, fat tears streaming down your cheeks as he practically uses your body, holding you by the hips, slamming you down on his thick cock, his eyes intently watching the way his cock sinfully disappears into your hole with every sharp thrust. “to-oji! agh – s-slow down-n! y-you’ll break me—!” you whined pathetically, your hands finding his shoulders as you try to get him to slow down.

he crashes his lips onto yours, your forehead resting under his chin, relishing in the way you beg for him to slow down which somehow makes his already hardened member twitch in excitement. he always loves it when he’s a bitch’s first real fuck, unlike those stupid teenage boys that take more pleasure in having a woman do all the work.

“g-good,” he rasps, grunting into your ear as he begins to feel the familiar feeling of your walls spasming around his cock. “fuck yea — take my cock, good girl–“ he frenziedly jostles into you, admiring the way you moaned, the way your breasts bounced with every sharp movement, the way your head lolled from side to side as you fought your impending orgasm.

you sob, your toes curling, your back arching off from the bed, utterly vulnerable to your release. “not inside, p-please, n-not inside ngh— f-fuck, toji! ‘m there, ‘m cumming!”

toji tuts at your plea. “s-stupid girl,” he groans at your spasming body, his heavy balls tightening as he feels the first waves of his release. “agh,” he follows soon after you, groaning as thick ropes of his cum paint your walls, forever reminding you of the sickening fact that you just fucked your little sister’s assassin. toji languidly thrusts two more times, sloppily wiping your tears away, finally slowing down just as you begged, pushing his cum deeper into you, as he grunts into the crook of your neck, his cock twitching as it unloads the last of his release.

“y-you came inside,” you whimpered as toji rests on your dainty frame, still not pulling out.

the older man scoffs, kissing your collarbone. “shh, just take a pill later,” he hushes you and you don’t know why but he reminds you of the most charming of demons — wait but that’s because he is. nothing could be heard in the room other than your and Toji’s breathless pants. “but don’t think this changes anything.” he says after a while and you look up at him sleepily. “i still have to kill your sister.”

“but toji—“ your bottom lip quivers and you shiver when he plants a cold kiss between your brows, his scarred lip curling up into a sickening smile.

“—don’t worry, i’ll make it quick, as quick as i made you cum, that is.”

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mypoisonedvine · 1 year

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𝗽𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 || dark!joel miller x reader

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 || he told you he'd never let you go, but it hadn't sounded like a threat at the time— it sounded like pillow talk, like sweet nothings. you should've believed him; you should've known escape wasn't an option from a man like joel miller.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 || a bit over 3k

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 || smut (18+ only; noncon/heavy dubcon, bondage, forced breeding), stalking/yandere, possessiveness, past/described character death, "bunny" as a pet name (with a couple "baby"s and "babygirl"s in there), angst, gaslighting/manipulation

“How’d you find me here?”

His face was straight and stoic. Last time, he’d smirked when you asked that— like he was proud of himself. Now, he was just tired. Tired of chasing you, tired of your constant yet fruitless search for freedom.

Tired, and angry.

“I’m persistent,” was his flat reply.

“Well, doesn’t matter,” you shook your head, “doesn’t change anything— same as before, it’s over.”

“Why?”

“You know why,” you shot back instantly, “and I’m not explaining this shit you again. You don’t fucking own me.”

“So all those things you said— that we said?” Joel hissed, stepping forward, making you feel cornered in your own tiny room. It wasn’t much, but it was your own, and you loved it for that. You’d spent the last month making it feel like home, and now you’d have to leave it all again, have to run from him again. “What was that, then? All just bullshit?”

“I— that was a different time, I was a different person,” you sighed. “So were you.”

“Said you loved me,” he recalled.

“I didn’t even know you,” you snapped. “You aren’t who I thought you were…”

He stepped up to you again, and you reached for your belt— but he grabbed your wrist before you could grab the knife. “Whatcha gonna do with that, bunny?” he cooed, sickly-sweet.

“Don’t call me that,” you whimpered, trying to wriggle out of his grasp but only hurting your wrist more. “You can’t call me that anymore…”

“Gonna hurt me, bunny?” he continued, pulling you closer until you had to bite down on your shaking lip— you didn’t want him to see you cry, again. Because even after everything, when you cried, you still wanted him most— you still craved his comfort, even knowing that it was all lies. He was sick and twisted, you knew that, but he looked just like the man you fell in love with— he smelled like him, he had his warmth and strength, and your body sometimes longed to wrapped up in his arms again even if your heart ached remembering what he’d done. “Y’already hurt me as bad as you ever could. And I still love you.”

You shook your head, tears starting to roll, as he pressed his face against your head and took in a deep breath beside your hair. “You never l-loved me,” you hiccuped, “you don’t— you don’t do what you did to people you love—”

“I didn’t do anything to you,” he defended, “just made sure nobody would try to keep us apart, s’all. M’sorry for what happened to your brother, too, but you know I only did what I had to.”

“Shut up,” you pleaded, trying to pull away again.

“You know he stepped up on me,” he continued anyways, “you know he said I couldn’t be trusted, that I wasn’t good enough for you— and I couldn’t just let him say that shit.”

“Stop, stop talking,” you begged, shutting your eyes tight and trying so hard not to see it again— your brother on the ground, his face red and bruises already forming on his neck, Joel standing over him catching his breath. “Y-you just did it b-because he was all I had left,” you said, mostly reminding yourself. “That was the only reason my brother died. Because you needed to be the only thing I loved.”

“He was a piece of shit!” Joel barked, making you cry harder. “He was nothing, okay? I’m your everything—”

“No, no—”

“You said that! And he was gonna try to take you away from me!”

“Because I told him I was scared of you,” you explained.

“So it’s your fault— you killed him,” Joel insisted as you tried to cover your face with your spare hand. “Shouldn’t’ve told him that, bunny… shouldn’t’ve let him try to steal you, you know I couldn’t let you go— you know I can’t let go of what’s mine…”

He always got in your head so quickly; he'd carefully built his control over your mind in the year you'd been together, and it took a while to break out of it once you'd left. But even still, you'd never stopped looking over your shoulder— every time he tracked you down, you made another escape and started all over. But it didn't usually last too long.

“That’s why I’m just gonna keep finding you, bunny. ‘Cause you’re mine. So will you just stop runnin’ from me?”

You tried to take a deep breath, fighting to get enough air in your lungs to speak, but it all still came out as a shaky whisper: “I’m not… I’m not yours anymore,” you informed him weakly.

“Let me tell you somethin’,” he said— calm at first, but suddenly getting angrier as he sneered and yanked you closer. “Somethin’ you’re gonna be better off the sooner you accept it: you’ll always be mine.”

You whimpered as he spun you around, embracing you— or was he constricting you? — as your back pressed against his broad chest.

"Need me to remind you?" he purred in your ear, and you struggled harder against his grip.

"No, Joel— don't—" you pleaded.

"Need to remember who you belong to?" he pressed again, reaching down to start unbuttoning your jeans. "M'gonna help you, bunny, it's okay— you're not gonna forget again."

"Please," you whined, shivering when he started to tug your pants down— it was cold in here, and even his warm fingers weren't enough when the draft hit your bare thighs. "Joel, don't have to do this— let's just talk, we can talk—"

"Too late for that," he shook his head, groaning as he cupped your sex in his rough hand. "Tried to talk to you already, when we talk you start fuckin' lyin' to me— callin' me a monster just 'cause I love you. Sayin' you don't love me anymore… but your body doesn't lie, baby, feel that?"

He'd pushed your panties down and was sliding his fingers between your lips, purring as he roughly explored the slick folds of skin. Your stomach sank and your chest felt hollow— even with everything he'd done, you never thought he'd do this to you…

"Oh, fuckin' wet," he noticed with a sickening grin that you could hear in his voice. You turned your face away but he grabbed it with his free hand and turned you back to look at him. "Kiss me," he ordered.

Slamming his lips on yours, you whined and tried to pull away. He kept kissing you anyways, lips and tongue overwhelming yours, indifferent to your resistance.

"Don't be like that, bunny," he pouted when you managed to wrench your head back— he started kissing your jaw and neck next, rubbing circles on your clit with two fingers. "You just need to remember how good it is to be mine— just relax, baby, just let me help you—"

But when you tried to kick at his legs, a desperate attempt for a chance to flee, he got angry again and threw you face-down onto your bed.

"Please, don't," you sobbed, but he was already behind you, grabbing your wrists and holding them down over your head.

You cried harder when he let go with one hand, and you heard the slide of leather on denim as he took his belt off.

Crying harder, you felt him lean over you and wrap the belt around your wrists, tying them together tightly. You were begging incoherently, too scared to try to fight against the leather on your wrists but hating how it felt to be restrained (especially in such a crude way).

A moment later, he tugged you down so that you were bent over the side of the bed while he stood behind you, and he started to open his own jeans.

A shudder crawled over you when you felt his cock rub up against your ass, a low groan coming from behind you as he ran his hand over your back— maybe just to touch you, maybe to hold you down.

"Joel, I'm sorry," you whispered, "I'm sorry, I won't leave again, I swear…"

He hummed happily, but didn't stop.

"Just please stop," you requested weakly. "I'll be yours again, but you— you're hurting me…"

"Only 'cause you made me," he accused with a growl. "If this is what you need to know whose you are, then I'm gonna hurt you."

"No— you don't need to do that, I-I know now, I swear…"

You heard him spit, then the wet sounds of him spreading the fluid on his cock, and you buried your face in the sheets. "It's gonna be okay, bunny," he promised, just before he shoved himself inside you.

He used to be so tender, so delicate with you. For all his mood swings and violent tendencies, he'd always made love to you so sweetly. You couldn't believe that was the same man as the one holding you down now, forcing his cock deeper and grunting loudly as you whined in pain.

"You can take it," he informed you coldly, already moving far too fast and slamming to the deepest parts of you each time. "Same dick you used to beg for all the time, don't act so fuckin' hurt when I know you like this."

His hands moved to your shoulders, holding them tightly as he found his pace; you heard every moan, every heavy breath, even though you wanted so much to try to ignore it all. The most difficult thing to ignore, of course, was how it felt: the sting of being stretched around him, the soreness where he dug his fingers into your skin, the sick pleasure you hated yourself for noticing.

"God, I missed this," he groaned. "Missed having this little pussy around me— I'm gonna make you feel so good, bunny, gonna take care of you like I promised."

He laid himself down over you, pressing you down deeper into the mattress, and spoke right by your ear.

"Used to say nobody else ever made you feel like I did," he purred. "You remember that? Was that even true, or were you a liar then, too?"

"N-no, I never lied to you, Joel," you tried to defend yourself— but then he moved his hips just right and forced you to take even more of him than you thought possible, and your voice fell into a whine.

"What about when you said we'd always be together, huh?" he prompted with disdain in his voice. "I told you I needed you, bunny. M'fuckin' nothin' without you, you know that— and then you left me. How could you break my heart like that, babygirl?"

"I'm sorry," you cried, "I-I was just scared… you… you killed my brother, Joel. I hate you for that."

"I know," he soothed, "I know— but I can't lose you. I'm sorry, bunny, I can't let you go."

Unfortunately, that you knew; and in a way, you understood. You just wished this wasn't your fate, that you might have a chance to be free— that just wasn't in the cards for the girl Joel Miller loved. He'd let a lot of things slip away from him in this life and you were not going to be next on that list.

After a while, it started to feel familiar; it reminded you of how it used to be, when things felt so simple and you had no idea what was around the corner. Your body relaxed under his, your legs stopped flailing and your grip on the sheets loosened… you went limp, the struggle leaving you as another instinct took over.

Slipping his arms under you, he held you tightly, breathing heavily into the crook of your neck. The sickest part was how easy it was to let his praises wash over you.

“That’s my good girl,” he whispered to you, “that’s my good bunny— just like that, lemme take care a’you…”

All your energy was focused on not letting him hear how it affected you, how easily he could reclaim your body. You’d been running for months— almost two since you’d seen him last, when he tracked you down to Michigan and you only got away cause you had a friend with a car— and he had you back under his thumb in minutes. Maybe he was right: you’d always be his, no matter what anyone did. Even your own brother couldn’t save you.

“I betcha missed me, too,” Joel mumbled in your ear. “Betcha got lonely, huh, bunny? I’m here now, never letting you go again, I swear— can’t live without you… we need each other. You need me.”

It was so strange to you, how he could sound so sweet and then so livid in just a moment.

“Just admit it, baby,” he encouraged— but it was an order, you weren’t too far gone to know that.

“I need you,” you whispered hoarsely.

“Louder,” he demanded.

“I ne—” you choked, having to stop and start over because your voice was broken from crying. “I need you, Joel.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, and his thrusts picked up in speed. You could hear the sound of skin slapping on skin— of your wet channel betraying the way you actually did need him. “Yeah, fuck,” he repeated, “s’my girl… always ready for me, huh? Such a needy fuckin’ pussy y’got…”

He was moving harder and faster than ever, but his thrusts were more shallow than before— he usually started by savoring you, pulling out to the very tip and sliding back in so he could feel you on every inch of his cock. But then he got into this sort of mood, where he could barely bring himself to pull out at all— said it felt too good inside you to leave— and so it was more like grinding, staying deep in you and letting just the base of him thrust in and out. It was so deep it made your head spin, but you couldn’t do anything but lay there. Lay there and realize that it was too late to stop him, or to stop yourself from what was about to happen.

You hoped if you didn't make a sound, he wouldn't notice. You used to always tell him when you were coming, because he told you to: coming, Joel, you're gonna make me come— please don't stop—

But he noticed, even without all that fanfare. Even if only a suppressed whine echoed in your throat, he felt the way your body reacted when he brought you to the peak.

"Mm," he hummed proudly, "y'see? See how your body remembers? Fuck, love feelin' it when ya come, babydoll. Love feeling that li'l cunt squeeze me."

After you’d come, though, you became far too sensitive— everything was just too much, all at once, and your whole body began to shake. He didn’t slow down, he wasn’t fazed at all, but you were so overcome you could barely choke out your plea for mercy: “J-Joel, please… s’too much, I jus’... I need a second—”

“Shh,” he interrupted. “Still teachin’ you your lesson, bunny.”

“No, fuck,” you gasped, “Joel, I… I can’t…”

“Can’t take it?” he finished for you. “Can’t take any more of this? This is what you wanted, though. Isn’t that why you made me come all this way? Made me chase you all over the fuckin’ country just so I could get my girl back?

"I won't leave Joel, just stop—"

"I know," he groaned. "I know you won't leave me again, especially when you're pregnant."

"What? Joel, no—"

"Shh, shh," he soothed, gripping your hips tighter.

"Joel, don't—"

Your begs were accompanied by your shaking hands trying to somehow wiggle their way out of the belt, but both were useless. He was so much stronger, his weight kept you pinned so easily that you felt like you couldn't breathe; his hips drove into yours over and over, every movement like another punch to the gut and a stab to the heart. “Just take it, baby,” he demanded, though the tone of his voice was sweet— rough, but sweet. “Just trust me.”

I don’t trust you, you wanted to scream, I can’t trust you. But it wouldn’t have made a difference anyway, if you could even pull yourself together enough to speak.

"We're gonna be together, like you said," he promised, his voice a deep growl as he fought his way to the peak of pleasure, slamming into you ruthlessly. "Me an' you, and our baby. Gonna make you so happy, bunny, gonna take care of you— and we're gonna be a family—"

"Please,” you breathed, “let's just— just talk about this first…"

"And you'll be mine forever, y'hear me? You're never gonna try to fuckin' leave again."

You shook your head, exhausted and overwhelmed and giving in completely to the fact that he did own you, even after you insisted that he didn't.

"Say it."

"I won't try to leave you again," you promised, the words like poison in your throat but music to his ears. "I love you, Joel… you know I love you…"

"I love you too, bunny," he returned, holding onto you tighter. "So much— more than you can imagine."

You were numb, barely in reality, as he filled you; you could feel his cock flexing inside you and you hated the way it made your walls pulse— it showed how your body craved what your mind feared.

“Baby…” he groaned, that heavy satisfaction in his voice as he sunk down on top of you. You’d been waiting for him to pull out, disgusted that he was still inside you and hoping that you could sneak off to the bathroom to try to clean yourself out; but, he stayed inside, and relaxed even further as he stayed laying on top of you.

Staring off into space, you tried to shut your eyes but it burned. So you just blinked through the pain and wished against everything that this was some horrible dream.

If it was, it felt more real than anything ever had. He kissed your face gently, wiping the last of your tears away with his thumb. "Shh, it's okay, little bunny… everything's gonna be okay now," he soothed in a whisper. “You won’t have to be alone anymore. It’s gonna be how it’s supposed to— how we said it would: you and me, forever. Okay?”

It wasn’t a dream, but the way you spoke and moved without even thinking first sort of felt like one; “Okay,” you mumbled weakly as you nodded.

He smiled proudly down at you. “Now let’s get you home, bunny.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller dark fic #dark!joel miller x reader #dark!joel miller smut #dark!joel miller hbo #joel miller hbo x reader

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scoutswritingcorner · 1 month

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It's Still You

Alastor x GN!Reader

A/n: Part two of ‘Despite Everything’ also a big thank you to my lovely Kuro (@kurosstuff)- They helped me figure this out!!

TW:Crying, talks about murder, a little screaming, angst. DONT WORRY THERE IS FLUFF I PROMISE!!

He didn’t remember when Rosie had guided him to sit down at a table, you sat across from him as Rosie had to leave to go make some tea saying something about “Needing to talk it out”. He would agree but his pride didn’t want to be bruised more than it already was. The way you won’t even look at him, of course he didn’t blame you but it still irked him to no end.

“Darling..” He started but was caught off with a loud scoff from you, “You don’t get to call me that anymore, Alastor.” You hissed venom lacing your tongue and it went right to his undead heart like a knife. He stayed silent for the first time in a long time, The Great Radio Demon was stunned silent and backed down like a kicked dog. But what made it worse was how tears started to well up in your eyes yet you didn’t acknowledge them, only looked at the wall across from you. “..Rosie told me you were still singing around here..you have your own little parlor..” He whispered out the radio effect gone from his voice, you nodded wordlessly.

He played with his cane and looked away from your face, “Why do you care? Have you ever fucking cared, Alastor?” You hissed out finally looking- no glaring at him. “Was our marriage just for show? It felt like it.” He flinched as his ears fell flat on his head at that thought of you thinking he truly didn’t love you. He showed it the best ways he could. “No no, it was never for show. I could never hurt you like that.” He calmly replied, trying not to let anyone see how upset he was at your words. No one could know The Radio Demon had a weakness.

That made you sob out and stand up collecting your things. He stood up as well reaching out for you but you moved away from his reach. “But you did. You killed me, Alastor. I did everything for you, I got the cops off your tail and covered your tracks when you were too damned tired to notice you got sloppy.” You yelled out, “I worshiped you, you were my husband, what else was I supposed to do?” Tears now falling freely down your face as your hands trembled, “I was scared of my own husband during my last moments alive.”

He froze in place his ever lasting smile had fallen into a deep frown as he slowly walked closer to you. “That was probably my first fucking mistake in a long line of them but love makes you do crazy shit. And I truly did love you..I still do but I’m so afraid.” His shadow curled around your body as his hands finally reached to cup your face, wiping the tears away from your eyes. “I love you as well, my Songbird.” He started watching as you nuzzled into his hands, “I loved you from the moment I laid my eyes on you. I’m sorry for everything I have done..for how I’ve hurt you. You were never my target.” He whispered out, pulling you closer to his body.

“You were my everything, cher..” He leaned his forehead against yours as you let another sob rip through you. “My driving force, the person I wanted beside me at all times..could we try again? If you allow me the chance?” He asked softly, smiling as he felt your hands, your much softer hands than his, had grabbed onto his clawed ones and nodded. “I would like that, Al..I’m sorry..”

He hummed and gently placed a kiss upon your forehead, “There is nothing to be sorry for. Tu as toujours eu mon coeur, mon petit oiseau chanteur.” He wouldn’t ruin this chance, not again. You both would run Hell side by side.

A/n: This made me fucking cry so much, I hope everyone loves it! Translation: "You always had my heart, my little songbird."

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel imagine #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #alastor x you #gn reader #alastor x gn!reader

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gojossocks · 2 months

Text

New Romantics

Gojo x reader 𐙚 Genre: fluff, comedy, hurt/comfort 𐙚 Summary: You are the bane of Gojo's existence, at least that's what he tells himself. You're just full of surprises and he can't help but be fully enamored by you. 𐙚 wc: 8.5k 𐙚 content: kinda enemies to kinda lovers, a bunch of high schoolers, gojo is soo out of touch with his feelings, it's in his pov, gojo is sooo down bad, PINING, badass reader, reader is in a clan too! reader smokes ! kinda screams im not like other girls in a less toxic way, jealous! gojo, heavy make out, very self-indulgent HAHA can be read as a standalone. 𐙚 a/n: my first ever series ! it's kinda long but i swear it's fun! :D

series masterlist | prologue

Arrogant. Insufferable. Patronizing. Apathetic.

The list goes on.

Granted, Gojo is nowhere near close to you. You were barely friends.

If there is one person in Jujutsu High that he likes the least, it would be you. It’s not like he resents you, it’s just that you represent everything he hated from being in a clan just like him.

From the way you strut your very expensive loafers to the way you shop to your heart’s content after every mission since your first year. Not to mention that you’re the all-perfect princess that your clan wants you to be.

“Gojo, please pass me the p-“

“No can do, shorty.” He chirps, giving you a shit-eating grin.

You glared at him before motioning Shoko to hand you the pen instead. “Gojo, you know you kinda look like someone I like.” You didn’t let him finish, crossing your arms before giving him a devilish smirk. “That cute little rat from Shrek.”

Gojo’s eyes widened at your insult but Suguru and Shoko were already snickering at him. He despises the idea that everyone seems to adore you, except him of course.

In the eyes of the higher ups and your family, you were the sweetest girl ever. Somehow, you’re always growing horns around him.

Everyone thinks that Gojo’s only messing with you whenever the two of you banter. Hell, there are some students gossiping that he has a crush on you (which he definitely doesn’t) But only Geto and Shoko know how much he actually dislikes you.

You seem so obedient with all your clans orders, following everything that’s asked of you, carrying the submissiveness and elegance a Y/L/N is supposed to have. And if there’s anything Gojo hated the most, it’s tradition. It’s why he’s in Jujutsu High in the first place, he wanted to change the system badly— and seeing you become the embodiment of the tradition he badly wants to change pisses him off.

Each time the higher ups get mad at him for not being in his ‘best behavior’, your name is constantly echoed around the meeting room. ‘You should be more like Y/L/N’ ‘Bring honor to your clan like how Y/L/N does.’

The only act of rebellion that you do is that your hair is dyed in a way that would make the higher ups frown. Your hair is recently dyed bright orange. He finds himself scoffing at the idea that you only get scolded because of a damn hair color. Gojo’s also confused with how cunning and sassy you are when there aren’t any prying eyes. Maybe you’re just doing that to seem cool.

Well, he just has to avoid you at all costs so you would stop annoying him and pestering his thoughts.

Unfortunately for him, Yaga has different plans.

“Satoru. Y/N.” Yaga announces when he was pairing up students for a mission but he doesn’t even get to finish because Gojo emits a loud dramatic groan from across the room.

“Why?” He whined, tilting his head up to create a dramatic effect. “It’s always been Suguru and I.”

“Satoru, you and Suguru need to be paired up with someone who's an expert in reversed curse technique. It’s your fault you haven’t learned it yet.”

Gojo crossed his arms and pouted. “Y/N can kiss my ass, teacher.”

“No thanks. I’m sure you don’t wash yours. I could smell you from afar, stinky.” Everyone else groaned as the two of you started another banter, forcing the meeting to be 5 minutes longer than usual— particularly because no one dares to cut off your argument (Yaga is too amused because of how much you put Gojo in his place.)

-.-

The mission didn’t go well. It was the first time you and Gojo worked together, and judging by your huge egos, your banter caused the both of you to get injured– you more so than Gojo. He was too reckless today, attempting to get a reaction out of you, which is why he got caught off guard when a 1st grade curse attacked him.

You pushed him out of the way, causing the curse to land a hit on your shoulder and right arm. Gojo stood still in his place in shock and your right arm was already injured when he snapped out of his trance. He obliterated the curse easily but the damage has been done.

You’re just lucky it was a minor injury but the fact that you did that for him, considering how you two were at each other’s necks for the longest time confuses him. It disoriented him until the both of you arrived at Jujutsu High.

When he got patched up, he stood up to apologize but you were nowhere to be found. He assumes you’ve already healed yourself due to your reverse curse technique ability but he can’t help the nagging feeling in his mind.

You were quiet today— well, ever since this afternoon. And no he’s not keeping track, he’s just not used to not hearing your snarky remarks and sarcastic comebacks at his attempts to annoy the shit out of you.

You’re just ignoring him, giving short insults in response to his own for the most part of your mission until you shielded him from that curse.

His guilt weighs on him heavily as he strolls around the school, waiting for Shoko and Geto. but really it’s just to see you. Gojo had noticed that you’re always gone the moment after your mission’s debriefing, sometimes even when you’re injured.

At last, he saw you just a few blocks away from Jujutsu High, towards the new 7/11 store that opened a few months ago. Gojo tilts his head to the side and furrows his eyebrows before deciding to follow you as discreetly as he could.

He stood near a house behind the convenience store where he could be hidden by a large plant beside it. He watched you grab a few things off the shelves and talk with the cashier, who happily greets you at the counter. You must’ve been here frequently.

1 can of coke. A box of cigarettes. Coffee.

Gojo never took you as the type who would visit a convenience store, as shocking as that sounds. He knows you’re rich. Filthy rich. You’ve always been pampered just like him, everything down at your feet because you’re the most powerful sorcerer in your clan.

Finally, you got out of the store. Gojo’s eyes widened like saucers when you went straight to his hiding spot.

“You know,” You called out, putting a hand on your hip. “It surprises me how much of an idiot you are despite being a notorious smartass. Your hair sticks out of the leaves because you’re so fucking tall, Gojo.”

“Heh.” He rubs his nape sheepishly, offering you a shy grin. “Didn’t think you’d see me.”

“Really?” You deadpan before walking away from him, back to Jujutsu High. He jogs up to your side. “Why are you hiding anyway? Spying on your rival or something?”

“Maybe.” He says lightly. It’s the first time any of you are talking normally to each other without malice. “Where are you going?”

“Somewhere.”

“Can I come?” He insisted, voice filled with excitement, leaving no hint that he’s gonna stop following you. A smile tugs at the corner of your lips.

He looks like a puppy, following you around. It’s an amusing sight, even to you.

“No.” You still kept walking, paying no mind as Gojo continued to follow you.

He feels an unusual giddiness at the thought that you hadn’t outright pushed him away because if you really wanted to, you would have told him to leave.

You lead him to the abandoned fence with the sign ‘DO NOT ENTER’ in the restricted building of the school that had remained under construction for years. It was the tallest building in Jujutsu High. You wordlessly went up to the concealed stairs at the obscured side of the building and onto the rooftop.

You sat at the edge of the building, your feet dangling off the edge. Gojo cautiously followed your actions, opting to sit next to you. He observes you as you unravel bit by bit and it’s the first time he’s seen you this relaxed and vulnerable—something that you granted him the privilege to see.

Rummaging through your paper bag, you retrieved a can of his favorite drink, Coca-Cola. As you handed it to him, a subtle surprise flashed across his face before he muttered a sincere ‘thanks.

You then opened your box of Marlboro red and lit up a cigarette, putting it in between your lips before taking a drag. Gojo observes you silently, his mouth agape. It was a revelation, discovering facets of you that he never anticipated. The act of you casually smoking, the ember casting a faint glow on your features, added another layer to the enigma that you are.

Gojo stays silent for a few more minutes or so until you notice his confusion, mainly because his eyebrows are almost meeting and he’s staring intently into the abyss.

“Are you broken or something? You usually never stop yapping.” You joked, bumping your shoulder to his.

“I didn’t know you smoked.” Gojo says dumbfoundedly.

You chuckled but his question was left unanswered. He forgets about it completely because his brain short circuits when you move closer to him, taking off his sunglasses and perching it atop his head. His radiant baby blue eyes are out staring at you intently.

You give him a soft smile and point at the view in front of you. “I love going here after missions, sunset’s beautiful here.”

“you’re being nice to me. Why?”

Again. No answer. You just hummed in amusement and no words were spoken afterwards.

The sun begins to descend, casting a warm, golden glow over the view from below. The city sprawls out beneath the both of you and the skyline extends into the horizon, bleeding in hues of pink and orange. Both of you sit in silence and when Gojo turns to look at you, he feels his heart beat quickening every passing second.

You look so breathtaking as the remaining sunlight kisses your skin, creating a halo effect around you. He suddenly doesn’t know why his palms feel so sweaty and he can’t manage to land a punchline to make you roll your eyes playfully at him.

“I’m sorry I got distracted. Thank you for saving me today. I didn’t know you’d be more…” He trails off and you cut him off with a laugh so pretty enough that his head whipped to turn to you.

“Kind? Human? You think I’m just like my clan huh?” You giggled and it shocked him how light you’re taking the situation.

You must’ve gotten used to it.

Just like him.

You stayed silent for a while before speaking in a serious tone. “Just because I don’t defy my clan’s ideals freely as you do doesn’t mean I’m not against it. When you’re a woman, you have to play nice, you know? I don’t have much of a choice unlike you. I know you don’t like me but I shielded you because you’re my friend.”

It was a wonder for Gojo that he’s the only one you’re not on good terms with out of everyone in Jujutsu High. Hell, he even overheard Yaga asking you to call back those Kyoto Students. It’s a big deal because those pesky Kyoto Students are usually their rivals but for some reason they’re always looking for you.

Then comes the Tokyo students, whom he never sees not greeting you or asking to hang out with you. Come to think of it, their expressions are always brightening up whenever you’re around and he thought that maybe they’re not that welcoming to him because he’s loud. But it’s you. It’s all you.

From the way you listen intently to your friends, and your saccharine voice asking them about their day or whatever that piques their interest. You care, a lot. You even saved him from that grade 1 curse, resulting in a painful wound on your shoulder. Granted, you had the ability to heal yourself but who was he even in your life? and yet you took the fall for him.

Gojo always hated that everyone seemed to look at him as that ‘six-eyed kid from the Gojo clan’. He hated the rumors about him just because of your last name— something that he has done to you since the first time you stepped foot into the school.

He swallows his guilt and sets his pride aside. He wanted nothing more than to make it up to you. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I’ve read you wrong. I thought you were just like the rest of them.”

“It’s alright.” You say nonchalantly as possible but the voice crack at the end gives you away. Gojo chooses to ignore that. This probably means a lot to you as much as it did to him. “I mean I get it, I actually admire your passion for changing the way our clans lead the Jujutsu World. I think you have the guts for standing up to them just like that.”

“You really think so?’ He scoots closer and gives you a small smile, his heartbeat quickening faster as he feels your warmth— your thighs almost touching.

“Yeah.” You grinned back, leaning your wait to his side before taking a sip from your coffee.

“So you think I’m pretty?” He looks at you and bats his eyelashes comedically.

You snorted in response and slapped his arm lightly. “I’ll throw you off this building.”

Gojo forgot the passage of time in those 4 hours at that rooftop. The sun had already set and the moon was gleaming, already dark out. He likes talking to you but he enjoys it more when you’re the one doing the talking.

You talked about your school life, hobbies, even your life with your clan– anything that comes to mind. Talking to you is as easy as breathing. You’re just full of wisdom, kindness, and wit.

Gojo found out today that he actually likes making you laugh, something about it makes his stomach feel funny. He also found out your preferences in coffee, food, and even music.

“Don’t you dare tell that spot to anyone, Gojo.” You took one of the sweets in his hands and popped it in your mouth before giving him a teasing grin.

You’re now walking side by side on the way to the dormitory. He insisted on walking you to your dorm even if his dorm is from the other side of the building.

A chuckle escaped his lips as he matched your stride. “Yes, Ma’am.” He replied with a teasing voice, earning a hum of approval from you. You finally stopped in front of your door.

“Thank you Goj-”

“Satoru.” He cut you off, his voice suddenly softening. As you tilted your head inquisitively, he found himself breaking into another warm smile. His cheeks ached from smiling too much this evening. “You can call me Satoru instead.”

“I like saying Gojo, especially when I yell your name when I’m mad at you.”

“Are you mad at me right now?” He wiggles his eyebrows, earning a playful roll of your eyes in response.

“No.”

His demeanor shifted then, almost like he’s surrendering his vulnerability to you. “Then call me Satoru.” You could almost hear the plea in his voice.

You sigh in mock defeat, your lips curved into a smile as you relented to his request. “Okay, Satoru.”

-.-

“You’re barely hanging out with me anymore, Satoru. Have you found my replacement already?” Suguru says, smirking as he watches his best friend’s eyes widened— a blush adorning Satoru's cheeks.

Satoru fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, causing Suguru to smirk at him. This behavior definitely did not go unnoticed by his best friend. Rarely did Satoru ever get nervous and Suguru was all for it.

“I was just busy, Suguru. You missed me that much? I didn’t know I am participating in a homosexual relationship with you—” He retorted, attempting to deflect Suguru.

But Suguru wasn’t one to let him off the hook easily. “Busy hogging Y/N?”

Satoru scoffed, giving him a look of disbelief. “Pffft. Nah. Of course not. We’re friends!” He insisted, though the way his gaze momentarily flickered away betrayed a hint of something more.

It has been nearly 6 months since that evening on the rooftop. Satoru and you have been attached to the hip ever since— or to phrase it better, Satoru has been attached to you ever since. Somehow, you’re a lot more similar than he thinks and because of that, you just know each other a lot deeper.

He also finds himself doing things out of pure interest like walking with you to the 7/11 store after mission just to talk to you til dusk on that rooftop, completely forgetting about his friend group’s game nights. Other times, he reaches for your wrist to encourage you to mingle with other people. He even accompanies you to your monthly shopping sprees in the city or in Shinjuku or Shibuya. He found out you love traveling and going to other places— it clears your mind, you had said. His closet is now full of clothes you helped him pick out, almost half of them you bought for him randomly.

It’s normal for friends to do that, right?

Seated side by side, Satoru and Suguru observed how you and Shoko practiced your reverse cursed technique. Satoru’s just munching on the sweets you bought for him while his best friend is clearly enjoying the view of how dumbstruck he is by you.

“Satoru,” he began. “You’re always following her around, it’s like you’re glued to each other already and you even fell asleep together during movie nights more than 3 times already. The only time you’re not with her is when you’re on missions with me or lunch. Are you already secretly dating?”

“Yeah, we’re not!” Satoru says swiftly and defensively, causing Suguru to raise an eyebrow at him. “Why are you keeping count anyway?”

“Sure, just friends.” Suguru insisted, attempting to downplay the whole situation but Satoru is already growing agitated with the way he’s being teased. Suguru gave him a devilish smirk. “What if she dates another guy?”

Satoru shuts up for a minute before muttering a quiet “… She won’t.”

“You don’t sound sure. She eventually will.” Suguru gave him an all-knowing smile and that’s when he knew that Suguru was being serious.

“Huh?” Satoru furrowed his eyebrows, casting an accusing look at his best friend. “How are you so sure?”

“Shoko said she’s going on dates.”

Oh.

So that’s why he’s been seeing you less, and you seem so distracted whenever you guys would hang out. Satoru thought that you were just busy but he didn’t think you’d actually go on dates with anyone. I mean, you’re still young right? Besides, who would be deserving of you?

Satoru didn’t notice that he was staring daggers into Shoko as you hugged her tightly. His expression darkened, jealousy flashing in his eyes before softening as he heard you laugh.

Pretty.

You look so pretty.

Since when did he find you incredibly pretty?

Sure, you were just friends but he doesn’t know why he has this urge to be with you all the time, he even wants to hug you like how you hug Shoko and Utahime. It’s just unfair that you only lean to him or give him a fist bump or when you fall asleep with your head on his shoulder.

He longs to hold you close, to see you every morning, and to be the person that makes you laugh all the time.

And when you noticed him staring you beamed at him and waved.

Oh, he definitely has a crush on his friend.

He didn’t know how much time passed but soon enough his day wouldn’t be completed without seeing you. He actually looks forward now to the meeting with different plans, particularly because you were there with him. And he basically lives now in your dorm room, candy wrappers everywhere and an array of his glasses sit beside your bedside table.

You talk about anything, even the random thoughts that come to his mind. You managed to know him better than Suguru knows him, which is surprising by the way.

But during the past week, he surprisingly didn’t see you— not even at the rooftop that you both had grown to hang out together. Suguru told him that he acts like he has a ‘stick up his ass’ but he was just worried about you. Have you grown tired of him? It all made him fidget like crazy.

Satoru caught a glimpse of your bright blue hair after your mission with Suguru. It was the kind of blue that matches his eyes. But he didn’t pay attention to it that much because of your sullen look.

He tried looking for you at the convenience store or your dorm but you were already gone so his last bet is at the rooftop, and there you are.

Your back is facing him with your feet dangling off the edge, you seem to be in your own world judging by the loud music he’s hearing. There are two packs of cigarettes by your side and a can of your favorite coffee. The sun is almost setting again and you’re just staring ahead while you hum along to the song you're listening to. The view seems so… sad. He felt something tug at his heart strings.

“You know you should quit smoking. if you keep it, you’ll never see me old handsome.” He tried to joke off before climbing the edge to sit next to you. He took off his glasses before wincing at the view, it was too bright so he decided to put it on again.

You giggled in response, he can tell that you saw right through him when you had a soft look in your face. The both of you hadn’t quite reached the stage where you’re entirely comfortable with opening up to one another.

So he tried to lighten up the mood once more, “It actually diminishes your ability as a sorcerer.”

“Says who?”

“Says yoda” He responded rhetorically before giving you a lopsided grin.

You nodded before taking out your lighter to light up your cigarette. “I only smoke when I’m stressed.” You confessed.

“Oh?” Satoru asks

“Yeah” You smiled at him, taking a drag from your cigarette, sighing when the nicotine hit your system.

“Then we’ll do something else, yeah?” He grinned at you mischievously before pointing his index. “Wait.”

With a quick rummage through his pockets, he brought out a handful of brightly colored lollipops, their wrappers crinkling softly in his hand.

“What do you have in mind?” You asked, raising your eyebrows at him.

Satoru extended his hand, offering you a lollipop with a playful wink. “Something sweeter?”

He gives you a toothy grin—his eyes sparkling when you take it, shaking your head at his enthusiasm.

“This is ridiculous,” You laughed, amused by his antics as you unwrapped the sweet treat and popped it into your mouth.

“It works, right?” Satoru asked eagerly.

He’s been searching for alternative ways for nicotine but he couldn’t find any gum in the 7/11 store. Lollipops are his last choice.

“I don’t know. Isn’t it gum that lessens the nic addiction?” You countered, bumping your shoulder against his.

“Lollipops are an alternative,” He says defensively, though a hint of concern crept up to his face. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, uhm. It just gets tiring sometimes, you know?” You responded, bitterness lacing your voice. “ All the pressure. Sometimes I feel like I’m not treated humanely at one point.”

“Hey. I’ll help you okay?” He placed a hand on your shoulder before offering you a soft smile. “When you’re with me, you don’t have to please those old geezers.”

“I appreciate it, Satoru.” You smiled back at him and he found himself melting in your gaze. The sun be damned, he could live alone in your presence.

You decided to leave when it’s already half past eight. Once he helped you to his feet you looked at him shyly, and if it’s a bit lighter out he would see a blush creeping up to your face. The walk back to your dorm is silent again, your hands just occasionally brush and Satoru wondered if you think about holding his hand too.

So when you let him in your dorm like you usually do. Satoru hesitated for a moment before he mustered up the courage and asked, “Is it okay if I hug you?”

He noticed you freeze and he feared that he might have overstepped, but before he could retract his words, you’re already nodding and he instinctively wrapped his arms around you. Satoru hears you sigh in the hug and he feels like he’s floating when you tug him closer.

Satoru prayed silently that you couldn’t hear the loud thumping of his heart because he finally has you in his arms and this is all he wanted. The warmth of your body against his, the way you leaned into his touch, it all felt surreal to him.

You’ve finally let your guard down around him and he noticed you gradually open up to him when you’re feeling sad or disappointed with something. Somehow he can’t bring himself to be like that to you yet, Satoru has this underlying feeling that you’d like him less if he starts showing vulnerability.

But to his surprise, he feels like you like him more because of that. There was this instance where he’s so overstimulated after a mission because he had to take off his glasses to work on his six eyes. He started to become dizzy and everything around him was a blur.

As he sat on the couch, feeling utterly overwhelmed and disoriented after the mission. Despite his attempts to mask his discomfort with a feeble smile, you saw right through him, as you always seemed to do.

“Satoru, are you okay?” Your voice cut through the haze of his senses, casting him a worried glance.

He managed a strained smile before the brightness around him intensified, sending a sharp pang through his temples. "I'm...I'm fine," he mumbled.

“Satoru, you’re not a good liar.” You stood up to turn off the lights, only leaving the night lamp on, a soft glow illuminating the entire room, making it bearable for Satoru. He’s rubbing his temples, trying to ease the pain.

He feels a weight dip in the couch, you gently remove his glasses and place them on the nearby table. Then, without warning, your arms enveloped him in a warm embrace, guiding his head to rest against the crook of your neck, fully covering his eyes.

Now that he’s calmed down, Satoru became acutely aware of the closeness between you. He’s lucky that you can’t see how his eyes widened at your action and how flushed he probably looks right now. Well, not that he can see anything right now.

But he chooses to ignore the loud beating of his heart again, passing it off as adrenaline rush from the mission. He allows himself to relax in your hold, with your fingers threading softly through his hair, all his worries and fatigue melted away.

Gojo Satoru had never known romantic love, let alone had a crush on anyone. So maybe it was just normal for friends to hold each other when one is tired or in need of comfort.

He loves to play with your hand when both of you are alone, while he babbles about something random and outright weird just so he could ignore how you make him feel. He tries to ignore the blush creeping up on his face when you listen to him intently, like every word that he utters matters, no matter how ridiculous it was. His feet always drag him to you because after a long day, all he needs is cuddles from you— oh, and your soothing voice too.

So really, what is this weight on his chest when Shoko announced that you’re going on a date?

Why is he pouting suddenly, assaulting his food as he stabs it continuously while you are gushing about what to wear or what to say when he knows you just look so beautiful even without trying?

Isn’t he enough?

Satoru buys you stuff, he takes care of you, he knows everything about you. He’s always hanging at your dorm after school, you’re practically like a couple at this poi–

Shit.

Maybe he does have a crush on you.

“I don’t know why you’d bother going on a date, Y/N. Guys are basically disgusting.”

“Says a guy.” You rolled your eyes playfully while going through your closet.

Satoru’s getting desperate now, why are you so adamant to get on that date?

Satoru felt a knot of desperation tightening in his chest as he watched you model your top three dresses. The first dress, adorned with vibrant florals, seemed to scream "first date" with its playful charm. However, you quickly dismissed it as unsuitable for the dinner date you had planned. Next, you slipped into a simple yet elegant black bodycon dress that hugged your curves in all the right places. It was hard to ignore the bitterness he’s feeling— you getting dolled up for a random guy.

But it was the final dress that truly captured his heart. As you twirled around to show him, the white silk fabric cascading gracefully around you, Satoru found himself momentarily breathless at the sight. Your awkward smile only added to the enchantment of the moment. You look so ethereal.

"What do you think?" you asked, swaying gently as you admired yourself in the mirror.

"I—" Satoru cleared his throat, his voice suddenly dry as he struggled to find the right words. "I think I like the other one better, the black one," he managed to say, though his heart whispered otherwise.

You somehow listened to his advice and wore the black bodycon dress that he suggested.

You looked nothing short of breathtaking, a literal goddess.

It was the longest 3 hours of his life, each passing minute feeling like an eternity as he anxiously wait for your return. Despite his best effort to distract himself by distracting Suguru, his thoughts kept returninhg to you— wondering if you’re having the time of your life with your date.

A small part of him wishes that the date didn’t go well and you’ll just spent the rest of the evening eating sweets with him all the while casting funny remarks on your date but he wasn’t prepared when you came home with mascara running down your face, your lips curved into a pout, and your eyes puffy and red from crying.

Without a word, Satoru stood up to engulf you in his arms, furrowing his eyebrows as you collapsed into him. “What happened, Y/N?”

He held you close, a surge of protectiveness flooding his senses as if an attempt to shield you from the world.

“He’s a misogynist, Satoru!” You cried, your voice cracking. “So full of himself! I thought he was kind and sweet but then he just started babbling about his clan and how good of a potential husband he is. As if I want to marry him!”

“Who was he anyway?” He gently wiped away your tears.

“Naoya Zenin” You sniffled, playing with the hem of his shirt. “I’m sorry I’m staining your shirt.”

“No, no.” He whispered, brushing away the strands of your hair on your face.

He took a mental note to research on the guy that made you cry later on. He realizes that the sight that he despises the most is the sight of you crying. He never wants to see you like this, ever.

“You said you like the beach right?” Satoru spoke out of the blue, his hand tracing circles on your arm. “Why don’t we go to one?”

-.-

And that’s how Satoru managed to spend all of his monthly allowance in a week. He booked a flight for the 6 of you (of course he wouldn’t want you to get the wrong idea, he insisted it’s a vacation for the six of you— him, you, Suguru, Shoko, and even Utahime and Mei Mei because apparently you’re good friends with them too)

So now here he is, about 200, 000 yen poorer. (help i don’t know if this is accurate) He wanted what’s best for you, so of course he’d spend a lot for you. It was all worth it though, when he sees you in a baby blue bathing suit that he helped you pick out. No it was definitely not because it’s similar to the color of his eyes. Blue just suits you well. (Hence, he’s also suitable for you)

“Satoru, you're going to catch flies if your mouth keeps hanging like that. Hey, are you also drooling?” Suguru pokes Satoru, who quickly straightens up when you look his way.

You gave him a sheepish smile, and he didn’t know what the fuck you’re doing to him because he feels a hard on coming his way. Shoko notices Satoru’s flushed expression but she just continues to smoke, clearly enjoying the show.

Eventually, everyone agrees to swim in the beach and try on the jet skis that Satoru had rented. What he didn’t know though, was the fact that you’re afraid of the ocean.

You were just hugging yourself while the waves crashed against your feet. The sight looks so cute but he wants you to enjoy it, so he uses his tactics to get you to join the group.

Unfortunately for him, you’re so stubborn to stay on the shore.

“I don’t want to go, Satoru! It’s not funny! I might get eaten alive by megalodon sharks or something.”

“C’mon! I’m really tall, I can protect you! Jesus, here—” His hand intertwined with yours, causing you to blush profusely. “Just hold my hand, okay? Hell, hold onto me if you like. I can carry you!”

“Your hands are uhm, really warm.” You commented, your voice tinged with embrassment.

“Oh yeah?” He smirks at you, his gaze locking with yours. “You want me to warm you up?”

“I’m gonna kill you.” You deadpanned.

Despite your protests, you ended up trusting him to pull you in the deeper part of the ocean. He even managed to get you to ride the jetski with him, the grip you had on his waist nearly suffocating him.

Satoru didn’t want to focus on the closeness between you two— your body pressed up against his back. If he does, he might lose control and drop the both of you into the ocean.

Meanwhile, the rest of the group is observing the two of you while sipping on their Margaritas.

“God, these two.” Mei Mei muttered as she rolls her eyes. “Best slow burn romance I’ve ever seen for free.”

If anyone would glance at you and Satoru, they would immediately think you’re dating, but you’re not and it’s frustrating to anyone within your radius.

Besides her, Shoko chimed in, her voice laced with amusement. “It’s so painfully obvious that they like each other. They were comparing hand sizes earlier for god’s sake.”

“Yeah, they should just fuck already.”

-.-

“Okay, so you kiss the person the bottle’s pointing at.” Utahime explained excitedly, albeit a bit drunk.

Everyone’s gathering around the crackling bonfire bonfire, the warm glow casting dancing shadows across the sand. It was now nearing midnight and you decided to play a game to end the night, which is spin the bottle. You spent all afternoon swimming and riding the jet skis Satoru rented.

Satoru felt a bead of sweat form on his brow as the bottle nearly lands you and Suguru.

He wanted your first kiss to be with him, as selfish as that sounds. He internally cursed Shoko for suggesting this game.

It landed on Shoko and Utahime, then Shoko and Suguru, then Mei Mei and Utahime.

His nervousness escalated as the game continues. Satoru was busy praying that the bottle wouldn’t land on you and anyone that he failed to notice when the bottle finally came to a stop, pointing directly at you and him.

“Ooooh” Utahime teased you, playfully poking your arm. “It’s you and Gojo!”

You laughed nervously, shooting a helpless glance in Satoru’s direction. He wanted to protest but his curiosity outweighed his embarrassment.

He wanted to know how it feels like to kiss you.

Besides, it’s just a kiss, right?

Satoru was stunned when you hurriedly pecked him on the lips before you retreated back to your seat. His mind raced as he tries to process the fleeting touch.

He just kissed you.

He couldn’t believe it when you looked back at him with a subtle smile playing in your lips.

The rest of the night was a blur for him, not because he was drunk. Satoru’s a lightweight and you know that fact, that’s why you were drinking for him.

While everyone else is playing games and talking about anything, his mind is still stuck on the fact that you kissed him

You’re his first kiss.

And he's yours too,

The gods had answered his prayers. But that was barely a kiss in the first place, do you even want it or were you just pressured to do it?

The thought stings. So he took a couple of sips from Suguru’s beer bottle until he was tipsy enough to not think about your lips on his. Yet, with each glance in your direction, the memory of your lips on his persisted.

-.-

Satoru helped you go to your room, even if he’s a bit drunk himself. Both of you were stumbling on the way to your room, but he thankfully he managed to settle you down on the bed as gently as he could. His attempt to withdraw was no use as you pulled him down with you, your grip firm yet gentle as you clutched his hand in your sleep.

Satoru admired your sleeping state, your hair sprawled out messily on the bed and you’re gripping his hand.

Your mouth slightly open as you slept, emitting soft rhythmic breaths but then you started mumbling something—it first it was incoherent until you mumbled in a slur, “I think you’re cute.”

“Huh?” Satoru questioned, even though he heard you clearly. He just want to hear it again from you.

“I said I think you look like a sack of shit. Fuck you.” You clarified, your words still slightly intelligible and laced with frustration and humor.

“Uh-huh.” He replied, feigning ignorance, his heart fluttering at your words. A soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips. Satoru brushed a few stray strands of hair away from your face, his fingers lingering momentarily against your skin.

“You know,” You started, your words slurring as you looked at him with half-lidded eyes. “You’re my first kiss. It was really good even if it just lasted a second. Thank you for today, toru.”

He laughed at your intoxicated state. You just look so adorable when you’re relaxed like this, the way your features softened and your laughter bubble up freely without a care in the world.

His gaze drifted to your lips, they seemed to beckon him to give in. He definitely wants to kiss you now.

Satoru’s heart raced as he struggled to fight the urge to lean in, knowing that it was a dangerous game to play. You decided to take matters in your own hands, shifting closer to him, your face close enough that he could feel you breathe against him.

“Please, ‘Toru.” You whispered, your lips barely touching. “Please kiss me again.”

Who was he to deny you that? To deny you?

When Satoru kissed you for the second time, he took his time to savor it. His hand reaches out to cup your cheek and brushes his lips against yours.

Your lips are warm and soft, he wanted to kiss it for eternity. Literally. He feels like in cloud nine as he kisses you deeper, slipping his tongue inside as you parted your lips, earning a soft moan from you.

Satoru weight settled against you, your bodies pressed together, breathing heavily as he connected his lips against yours once more.

You taste better than any candy he has ever tasted. He might just get addicted, drunk even.

“We shouldn’t—” He sighs into your mouth. You whimpered when he pulled away, your sweet voice going straight through his dick. “I don’t want to do this like this.”

“What” a kiss. “Do” followed by another, “You,” then another “Mean?” then another.

You were peppering kisses all over his face all the while carding your hand through his hair, tugging it a bit to earn a reaction from him. He almost lost it when you squeezed him through his boxers.

Satoru managed to pull away which he clearly struggled on doing when you pout at him, lips swollen and covered with saliva and you’re looking at him with those damned doe eyes.

He pecks your lips, both of your cheeks, and he places a final kiss on your forehead, afraid that if he does more, he won’t be able to contain himself.

Satoru wants his first time with you to be special, one that’s not hazy and easy to forget. He doesn’t want it to be a mistake, like what he knows the both of you would agree upon if you talked about it in the morning.

He wanted you to remember, have it engraved in your mind and body for weeks. Satoru wants you to want him as much as he wants you, and he can’t have that in a drunken mistake.

As you both drifted together in your sleep, he held you close, his arms wrapping snugly around your waist. It was the best sleep he had in ages.

-.-

Satoru’s fear came true when you pretended like nothing happened the next morning. When he awoke, it feels like last night never happened. Your side of the bed is fixed and the only proof that you were ver there was the ache he felt on his arm, where you were laying. Sure, he was disappointed but he’s contented with anything you give him. As long as he has you by his side.

The kiss never left his mind, though.

Not even when you reached third year and you drifted apart from him little by little. His feelings for you remains the same.

When Satoru is paired up again with you for a mission in the second half of your third year, you seem different from the Y/N he remembers. Particularly because you act like the exact person that he met in your first year.

Only, you look dull.

There are heavy circles under your eyes, your lips are chapped, and you look like you’re barely holding it together. Not to mention the only words that you utter to him are only about the mission.

He got too busy honing his skills with Suguru, but he would make time for you if only you asked. But it’s like you were gone, everytime he tried to look for you, you were nowhere to be found. It’s like he barely knows you anymore.

You started to ignore him at the beginning of the school year. He noticed that you dyed your hair back to its natural color and whenever he goes.

You became a ghost in a way, and he’s left with the pieces of you that you once had shared with him. Satoru desperately wants to reach you but how can he when you’re always away? He doesn’t see you in your meeting spot anymore, you’re not in your dorm, no one gets close to you. The only time he sees you is during meetings with the higher ups and your clan.

There’s an ache in his heart that only you can heal.

So before you can run away from him again, he followed your footsteps until you reached the 7/11 store across the street. So here you are scanning along the shelves of the store, even though he knows you already know what you’re going to buy. You still haven’t noticed him, which is confusing on his part. You must’ve been so tired.

Ah, an energy drink and a box of cigarettes.

Well, maybe you’ve started avoiding him too because of that. You know he’s going to get worried.

Satoru taps your shoulder, making you yelp. You were about to shout at him but your expression softened when you saw him. “Oh, it’s just you.”

It’s the first time in months where he actually saw you up close. He misses you so much it actually makes him dizzy. Satoru stares at you for a few minutes before you poked him.

“Hello? Earth to Satoru?”

He hasn’t heard you say his name too in a while. It felt like a breath of fresh air

“You dyed your hair back to its natural color.” He pointed out.

You hummed in response before going to the drink section once more. He observes you skimming the shelves even though he knows what you’re going to buy.

You’re just passing the time because you’re too anxious to talk to him but you aren’t really good at small talks.

So he does that for you.

As you mechanically scanned the shelves, your eyes not really registering the array of products before you, Satoru noticed the evident anxiety in your every move. Wanting to bridge the gap between you two, he seized the opportunity to make you smile.

“ah yes, there’s some items on sale here.” He declared, rubbing his chin with his pointer and thumb comically.

Your quizzical expression met his as you questioned, “I don’t see any.”

Undeterred, Satoru held up a familiar item – your favorite coffee – and flashed a grin "Here," he insisted, pointing at the non-existent 'sale' label.

You raised an eyebrow at him. "It's on sale. Look. It says, 'buy one take me.'" He gestured to the imaginary tag with a theatrical flair, his infectious grin inviting you to roll your eyes at him.

Finally, you gave him a smile and you threw your head back because you’re laughing so hard. “You’re ridiculous, Gojo Satoru.”

Satoru's heart skipped a beat at the sight of your smile, a warmth spreading through him at the sight of your genuine laughter. He likes seeing you smile. He’d do anything to see you smile. Even if it’s making a fool out of himself.

You grabbed his favorite drink and 2 onigiris then you dropped your energy drink. You walked towards the counter with him following closely behind.

After you’ve paid for the food, you led him wordlessly to the back of the convenience store towards the small parking lot and you sat on the ground.

“Besides, I can’t take you.” You broke the silence, handing him his coca-cola with a tremulous smile.

“What do you mean? You’ve already taken me for granted.” Satoru attempts to joke, but his playful expression dropped when you gave him a sad smile.

“I’m getting married next year after graduation.”

Satoru suddenly felt as if the ground had dropped from beneath him. The news struck him like a blow to the chest, leaving him breathless. He chewed on his lip as he took in your confession.

So that’s why you’ve been busy.

That’s why the higher ups paid no mind to all of his minor mishaps. His heart and mind raced, why so soon? Are you really going to let them take away your right to decide who you’ll marry?

“To who?” He said quietly, fidgeting with the lid of his soda.

“Naoya Zenin.”

A wave of disbelief washed over Satoru’s face. He had only met the guy once but he knows that Zenin is an absolute prick, not to mention a misogynist and a weakling. He even made you cry on a date. But he tried to relax his jaw and stay composed for you. “Do you want to marry him?”

“No.” Your answer was swift, the word laden with a weight he could feel in his bones.

“Then don’t.” Satoru says firmly. Both of you fell silent for a while, you being defeated with the destiny your clan have paved for you.

Could he really let you go just like that? To a Zenin asshat nonetheless?

He had always imagined that the two of you would eventually end up together, you have all the time in the world after all. So why does it feel like you’re already slipping out of his arms? He’s not even sure if you like him, despite what Suguru and Ieri keep telling him.

His train of thoughts were interrupted when you leaned your head on his shoulder. His arm instinctively finds its way around you, as if shielding you from your clan, from the world. “I wish it were that simple. Nearly everything I do for my family is never what I want. I simply can’t not do it, Satoru. I need it to keep my clan powerful and relevant. I’m the only daughter of my parents. I have to do my best to make them proud.”

“Well…” He stammers a little bit when your hand finds a way to play with his hair. “what about what you want?”

“Satoru, you know my freedom is limited." You laughed bitterly. “I’m still Y/L/N’s golden child and my clan’s on the brink of exclusion at this point. We’re irrelevant now and I’m not getting any stronger or richer. My family wants to take their place in the Jujutsu World. This is something I can’t escape from anymore even if I’d rather die than to be married to someone like him.”

“Why Naoya Zenin though?” He’s getting frustrated at this point. Why were you not fighting back? Satoru couldn’t accept that, you relinquishing your freedom for the sake of others. You have already done so much.

“He’s from a well-off clan and he’s strong.” you replied, a note of bitterness tainting your words. “My dad’s also biased with the Zenin clan so… I’m all set.”

Well, he’s a Gojo and he is the strongest. He is the inheritor of the six eyes anyway. Who is Naoya Zenin compared to him?

“Well then, can you marry someone else that’s also strong?”

You scoffed, your hand leaving his hair before you prompt to fully lean your entire weight on Satoru’s side. “Yeah, but I don’t have much of a choice in the matter. Who else would I mar-”

It’s now or never.

“Me.” Satoru blurted out.

“What?”

“Me. you should just marry me instead.”

Wanna read more?

#jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo fluff #gojo x reader fluff #jjk fanfic #gojo fic #gojo satoru x reader fluff #gojo series #gojo angst

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seattlesellie · 11 months

Note

hi angel i saw u say you wanted more fluffy ellie requests and i thought about maybe something along the lines of the cute pics she has of you two in her phone idk it’s just something i thought of u don’t have to write it if u don’t want to i just love ur blog and everything u write 💗💗💗💗🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

not about love ♡

pre-dating slightly loser college!ellie 🦕 incoming !! basically u go through ellies phone and find… something. part 1 of… maybe?

warnings: slightly mean ellie for a second, sexual tension, mentions of weed and alcohol.

part 2

Tic-Toc, the gentle sounds of the ancient clock in Ellie’s room filled the thick air. a gift from Joel. It was a warm, lazy afternoon. You almost fell asleep, almost. Her bed smelled like her, so did the ruffled, Nirvana t-shirt you were laying on. Everything in this room practically screamed Ellie. The scent, the sketches on the wall — of Dina, and Jesse, and you. Why did she have more sketches of you than anyone else? A dinosaur lego, a miniature solar system, obscure band posters, Oh! here’s the pin you gifted her once!, two pairs of mismatched socks, a random rock (“It’s from like, the moon” she said. It was from the local science museum.)

“El” you whined, receiving a gentle hum in response.

“I’m bored” you exclaimed with a heavy sigh. It's not as if she owed you any attention, she told you she had to study. For some reason, some odd reason nor you or her could put your finger on, you had to be there with her. “Well” you excused. “It’s not like I have anything better to do, right?” A lie. What about your project due Monday? Nevermind.

“Catch this” she exclaimed, tossing a serene light blue stress ball directly at your face.

“Ow!” you whined, yet again. If only you knew what those whines did to her.

“Sorry bro, gotta finish this fucking question. She said, flexing her sore hand. “Fuck this fucking Prof, seriously” She mumbled, clearly annoyed, clearly frustrated. Ellie had this thing, well, if you could even call something that she only had specifically with you a “Thing” — where she had to call you by those stupid names. “Dude” “Bro” “Jeez man!” just to see you squirm. Youd flinch ever so slightly, a fleeting reaction that betrayed a hint of offense flickering in your eyes. Every time you couldn’t help but pout, couldn’t help but look a little bit hurt, it did something to her. It wasn’t because she liked hurting you, God knows she didn’t. It would give her a glimmer of hope, of light. Shed journal about it, too;

“I called her Bro again. She looked really sad. Why does she get sad? I’m so fucking stupid. It’s probably because no one else calls her fucking bro, I’m literally delusional. Also had expired fucking Pizza. Worst day ever. Shit. Not that bad because she smiled at batted her eyelashes. God Ellie you need therapy.” YOURE A DUMBASS!!!!”

Half an hour had elapsed, brimming with Ellie muttering to herself under her breath. lighting a blunt, burning the blunt, passing it to you, begging you to give it back after 3 seconds.

You were pretty sure you had gone through every single app on your phone five times already. Stalking rando’s on Instagram, watching ASMR tiktoks, talking shit with Dina in the groupchat. How much more of this boredom could you take? My god, you were humming a stupid melody to yourself.

“Griiiind boy you know I grind when I pull-“

“Shh”

Did Ellie just shush you?!

“Excuse me?” You said.

“I’m trying to concentrate. Also what the fuck is a Fartulum?” Ellie retorted, withdrawing slightly and punctuating her frustration with stomps on the floor. God, she was too fucking cute.

“Can I play on your phone?” You questioned innocently. One more opening and closing the same App and you’d have lost your damn mind. You could practically see the Candy Crush candies popping inside of your brain every time you closed your eyes.

“No” she answered bluntly.

“Why? you scared I’ll find your nudes? Not gonna look- Swear on my li-“

You could hear her eye rolling, somehow.

“I dont have fucking nudes” she affirmed with a touch of exasperation.

“Someone else’s?” you said quietly. Your tone almost exposed you. Almost.

“Psh… no” Ellie said in return, just as quiet. Her tone almost exposed her, too.

Wish I had yours. Shut it, Ellie.

“Then let me go on your phone” You whined, got off the bed and almost slipped on one of her belts that laid on the floor. So messy, so, so Ellie.

She cast a sidelong glance at you, her eyes darting from the corner of her vision. Her grip on the pen was incredibly tight. It happened every time you got near, got too close to her. Whether it was clutching the strings of her hoodie, her knuckles turning white with tension, or her toes curling in a clenched stance. Shed never ever admit it to herself, cool, calm & collected, but fuck did you make her nervous.

You settled yourself on the chair beside her, causing her to divert every ounce of her attention back to her assignment, shifting it solely onto you. You. You. You.

She gazed directly into your eyes, and a peculiar warmth flooded your face. Its funny how even after being friends for all this time, making eye contact with her managed to stir something within you. She asked you about it once, mid fight. “You never even look at me when we talk!” she huffed. “Yes I do!” no you dont. “No you don’t!” and when your lips quivered, turning you in, she left it at that.

Ellie scratched the back of her neck, her arms flexing subtly with the motion. You gave her that look, the look that made her cheeks go bright pink, her hands clam up. She bit her lip. “Fine”. You won, flashing her a toothy smile she couldn’t help but grin at.

And there you were, with Ellie’s iPhone 5C (Yeah, she never got that buying a new iPhone every 2 years phenomenon) laying on Ellie’s bed, in Ellie’s room.

“Ew - Ellie what the fuck? why is your screen greasy?!” You squirmed, fingertips grazing over her slightly sticky screen. Is that fucking chicken nuggets residue?

“Shut up, dude. You asked me for my phone so deal with the consequences”

Dude.

You rolled your eyes, proceeded to wipe the screen of her phone with the corner of her cozy flannel bedsheet. Her phone was really warm. One more month and it would probably set on fire.

“Password?” You questioned, and shifted to lay on your stomach, your cheek caressing the pillow. It had a little auburn colored hair laying on top of it.

Ellie huffed and waited a second before she responded, contemplating again. It’s harmless, fuck it.

“2222”

“Okay, seriously - you could get hacked with that dumbass password”

“Pffft” Ellie huffed. “I’d fucking beat them up if they tried robbing me” she said, ever the brave.

“I’m not… talking about robbers, Ellie. Like, hackers?”

“Same thing”

“You cant beat up hackers they’re- Nevermind” you sighed.

2222.

If the room was classic Ellie, god, so was her phone. Default Apple background, because she truly couldn’t be bothered. iMessage, Instagram with four pictures on her feed; One of her arm slightly flexing her tat (who the fuck was the bitch who commented “damn” under there?), one of a stray cat wearing her grey beanie, a meme that says “Fuck sex. Let’s do something romantic like play Fireboy and Watergirl on CoolMathGames.Com” (God, she thought she was so funny for that one. 6 Likes, one from you, one from Jesse, the fake Instagram account you and Dina created for Joel, her ex Cat, and one from Dina and a spam bot). Next to the Instagram laid the NASA app (of course), Call Of Duty for iPhone (Made her sleep for only fifteen minutes one night), calculator, 9GAG (People still use that?!), and… her gallery.

You pursed your lips, contemplating the situation. Should you?after all, Ellie said; No nudes. So what could possibly be on there?

Of course.

You couldn't contain a soft giggle that escaped your lips, earning an inquisitive whine from Ellie. "What's so funny?" she grumbled, unable to resist her curiosity.

“Said you were studying, so study” You said, while scrolling through her gallery.

As you readjusted your position on the bed, you unintentionally swiped to the left, revealing her albums. Just harmless browsing, right?

“Screenshots”

“Funny memes”

“Pics to send Jesse when he’s being stupid”

“Dhhdjsjsou”

“Stink ❤️”

A picture of you, laying on the grass, a bright, toothy smile spread across your face. It was from your Instagram, the one you deleted because you thought you looked dumb. The one Ellie commented a for once unsarcastic “Woah” on.

The album was locked.

You felt your throat go dry, heartbeat speeding up. Your leg started shaking, and God, you hoped she would come and snatch the phone off of your hand.

But she didn’t. She just shifted in her sit, cleared her throat and resumed her studies.

You shouldn’t have. But you did.

2222

Unlocked. Success!

You felt like screaming at the top of your lungs. Was it even hotter in here now? Extra humid today? you bit your lip, it almost hurt.

A picture of you and Dina. A selfie you sent to the groupchat two weeks ago. Ellie doodled a green heart on it. You were sweating. A picture of you on Christmas last year. That same day you had your stupid fight on. You were wearing a Santa hat, mug of hot Coco and tiny white marshmallows in your hand.

Your stomach felt as if it were infested by a swarm of Ellie looking butterfly’s.

A picture of you sound asleep, in Ellie’s bed. She was mid-moving a hair strand away from your face. It was blurry. You recognized that top.

You were wasted that day. Blabbering uncontrollably about how you had to crash on her bed, because you were scared your new roommate would think you’re stupid, and dumb, and an idiot, for getting drunk at a frat party.

You couldn’t understand why Ellie didn’t want to help you. You almost kicked her when she said she couldn’t, that you’d be better off in your bed. “I snore. And I kick in my sleep - Seriously” You almost cried. You called her a bad friend, a fake one, because — isn’t that what friends are for? Shouldn’t they have your back when you’re a babbling mess? Hold your hair for you, put you to sleep, take care of you?

Ellie couldn’t sleep that night.

When you laid there, right on her bed, her face went so red and hot you could fry something on it. She almost hit herself in the face when her chest grazed your back. When your leg caressed her’s, and ended up on top of her thigh, she almost screamed. When you shifted to face her, an angelic, sound asleep expression on your face, she swore she almost died. The string of your top came off, revealing more of your shoulder, and the strap of your bra, Ellie turned around so fast she almost woke you up.

She slept for 20 minutes.

When she woke up, she had to make herself remember it. Remember you, laying with her.

So she took a picture. An innocent one.

You almost jumped when the pen fell slipped from her hand and she turned around to face you.

“What are you doing?”

Whats in her notes app?

♡

part two

#ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams x you #wlw #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams smut #lesbian

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douceurrrr · 9 months

Text

𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 | 𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐲

— you and camp counselor!ethan gets lost in the woods.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | kissing, lil rough, doggy, fucked over table, begging, ethan’s pull out game being strong, oral (f), enemies to lovers

audio link

the sounds of cricket and owls fills your ear as you and ethan walk around the wood, branches cracking with each step. “I’m pretty sure we’re going in circles.” ethan huffed. “why do you say that?” you asked, following close behind him. “uh because we passed this tree like three time already.” he replied with an attitude.

you had first met ethan when you were interviewing for the open camp counselor position, you hadn’t got accepted to any colleges after high school and you needed a job so a camp counselor was like your last resort. ethan was smart enough for college but needed a job to pay for books and stuff. at first ethan wasn’t all that bad but he slowly became a dick.

“I thought you said you ‘knew’ where we were going.” he said with air quotes, glancing angrily at you. “I know where we’re going… maybe.” you told him with a nervous smile. “maybe? dude we’re lost and it’s your fault.” ethan says, shaking his head in disbelief. “oh my god, calm you whiny ass down.” you said making him even more angry. “oh I’m sorry your highness but do you know where the fuck we are right now?” he says with sarcasm. i mean at least you guys had flashlights.

“from now on we listen to me, not your shitty directional skills.” you fought the urge to beat his ass right then and there. “who pissed in your cereal this morning?” you said, rolling your eyes. ethan didn’t reply and just kept walking. “answer me, landry. what the fuck is your problem.” you said, pushing his shoulder. ethan sharply turned around. “my problem is obviously you, ever since I started working here you’ve been giving me shit for no reason.” ethan says and started walking again.

you shook your head. “no I haven’t.” you replied, furrowing your eyebrows. “ouu denial, I love it.” he says, sarcastically. “oh fuck off, landry.” ethan chuckled in reply making you blood boil. “you seriously have a complaining problem.” you mumbled but he obviously heard you. “I’ll complain if I want to, it’s better than hearing you talk.” he replied. you scoffed and kept walking.

“whatever, are we even going the right way dickface?” you asked with a smug look on your face. ethan just pointed somewhere so you pointed your flashlight to where he pointed to reveal a sign saying camping grounds

with a arrow pointing to the right. “trust me now?” ethan says, not earning a reply from you, you began walking in front of him. “holy shit.” ethan gasped, looking at your leg. “ethan don’t fuck with me right now.” you said, standing still in fear. “you have a medium sized cut on the back of your leg.” ethan told you. you turn your body to see behind you leg and lord behold there was blood running down your leg and onto your sock. “you must’ve done that when we went through the bushes, how did you not feel that?” he says, looking closely at the cut.

suddenly Ethan starts to walk towards you with his arms out. “whoa what are you doing.” you say, stepping back from him. “come on, I’ll carry you to the camping grounds and get my first aid kit.” he says, walking towards you again only for you to back up again. “don’t put your filthy hands on me, landry.” you warned knowing damn well you wanted the opposite. “stop being a brat and come on.” he huffed in annoyance but you finally gave in, letting him pick you up in bridal style and carry you towards the camp.

once he reached the camping grounds with you in his arms, he walks into the wooden room and sits you down on a table with your flashlight beside you. “I’ll go get the first aid kit.” ethan says before walking away into another little room. when he came back, he had the kit in his hand. he opened it, taking out two alcohol pads and a bandage. “this is gonna hurt.” he muttered as he opened a alcohol pad.

“fuck.” you hissed, grabbing ethan’s hand in reflex as ethan placed the alcohol pad on your wound. once ethan was done cleaning the wound he placed a bandage on it. once he looked up at you to see you looking at him with smug look. “what? you want me to kiss your boo boo?” he cooed, teasingly. ethan didn’t earn a reply from you so he leaned down and kissed your leg making you hiss. “you kissed it too hard landry.” you complained. even if you “hated” ethan, the kiss made your heart flutter a bit lot.

“thanks.” you said, lowy. ethan looked at you teasingly with his hand behind his ear, “what? say that again.” he says, acting like he couldn’t hear you. you rolled your eyes before speaking again, “I said thank you, landry.” you huffed.

ethan smiled, knowing he had won. “no problem, I told you I can be nice.” he chuckled.

you scoffed. “could’ve fooled me.” you grinned. ethan then looks down at his hand, noticing you still holding it. “ah you’re still holding my hand.” he says shyly. you muttered a sorry and looked down at your lap. “no it’s okay.” ethan whispered as he got closer to you. you didn’t noticed how close he was until you lifted your head back up to look at him, you could feel his breathing on you face. “look I’m sorry for being a asshole.” he look genuine and apologetic, you couldn’t be mad at that. “it’s okay, I was a bit of an asshole too.” you replied. ethan’s face started to get hot at the closeness between you two. “i-i don’t think I’ve ever been this close to you.” ethan whispered.

you couldn’t take it anymore and leaned forward to capture his lips on your. ethan’s hand comes up to rest on you waist as your hand come up to his hair, raking through it. “fuck.” ethan groaned when he pulls away. “since day one I’ve had a crush on you.” he confesses and you look at him surprisingly.

“I’ve tried to hide it but I can’t get enough of you.” he didn’t even give you time to respond when he smashes his lips against yours with a moan. he then pulls away again to say something else, “and I’m sorry about that time with the volleyball and I’m also sorry about the time I-”

“- just kiss me, landry.” you cut him off with a lustful kiss. you run your fingers through his hair, earning the sinful sounds from him. while you were in the kiss, you trail your other hand to the flashlights that was next you and turned them off so no one could see you two were in there. the kiss started to get steamy as ethan started touching you more. “mm wait ethan, m’all sweaty.” you whined as ethan started to kiss down your neck. “I don’t care.” he says into your neck.

after a little while, you push him back to discard your shirt. “cute bra, but we won’t be needing it.” ethan says. you then unclip the back of your bra, throwing it somewhere in the room. “there, happy?” you smirked at the look on ethan’s face, he looked like a kid in a candy store. “very.” he says before bringing his hands to your tits, massaging them. your head threw back in ecstasy. he then decided to take it up a notch and started sucking on your nipples, earning more sounds from you.

“fuck landry, i guess you could do more things with that mouth than talk sh-” he cuts you off, biting down in your nipple which made you squeal. “take your shorts off, y/n.” he says seriously. you were amused by his tone. “hmm no.” you smirked. ethan scoffed, knowing what you wanted. “you’re really going to make me beg?” you nodded with a smile.

“please y/n, please take off your shorts.” you let out an satisfied hum, lifting your hips to take off your shorts. ethan sucked in his breath when he saw your black lacy underwear. “take that off too.” he groaned when you hooked your finger under the band, pulling them down. ethan then pulls your legs apart to rest onto the table. you gasp when you feel his tongue run across your slit, sliding the flat of it over your clit before swirling around it. you try to do something with your thighs but he has you pinned.

“fucking hell, landry.” you whisper, not wanting to be too loud. your head shoots back as the coil in your stomach starts to get intense. you place your fingers through ethan’s hair, pulling it before he moans into your cunt. he pays extra attention to your clit, sucking and swirling on it. ethan then pulls away, not taking it anymore. “shit bend over.” ethan whines. you do what he says, hoping off the table and bending over it. you hear a buckle rattling as ethan takes off the dumb khakis they made the boys wear. you felt the head of his cock slip through you slit and into your cunt, stretching you out.

“shit landry, you never gave off big dick vibes but i stand corrected.” you moaned as ethan started thrusting at a good pace. he hiked your right leg on the table, making him go deeper. the coil in your stomach started to progressively increase as ethan’s speed increased. “shit.” he grit, clawing at your hips. ethan’s head leaned back with his eyes closed, he was in heaven. “fuck landry, m’gonna cum.” you warned before he increased his thrust, helping you get there. with a couple of fuckfuckfuck’s you came around him, breathing heavily. ethan was right behind you, thrusting like his life depended on it. “holy fuck.” he pulls out, cumming all over your back.

ethan helped you get off the table and kisses you, passionately. “maybe we should sneak out often and have some fun.” you smirked at him, batting your eyelashes. as ethan gets his clothes back on he replies with a nods then leaves to find something to clean the cum off your back.

from then on, you stopped hating him.

#ethan landry x oc #ethan landry smut #ethan landry x y/n #ethan landry x reader #scream #scream 6 ethan landry #fanfic #imagine #scream 6 #ethan landry x black!reader #black!reader #woc #ethan landry x you

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spicyyy-muffin · 1 year

Text

protective smartass

ghost x reader

i made up a random ass character just for this. super cheesy but enjoy! this is nothing but fluff.

“who did that to you?”

“it doesn’t matter.”

“yes it does y/l/n”

ghost was struggling to keep up with me as i walked as fast as i could in the opposite direction.

“why so you can tell him not to harass other team members and he will just do it again? or so you can make him run 30 laps on the track tomorrow?”

he gripped my wrist pulling me into him.

it looked worst then it really was but then again luke tried to beat the living shit out of me. we were sparring again. and he took it too far. again.

my lip was split open and the black eye he gave me was already starting to swell shut.

“who the fuck did this to you?”

his hands were cold and soft as he traced the end of my bruise.

“you should see the other guy” my lips perked up in a smile but ghosts face remained placent with the mask on.

his other hand slid to the back of my neck examining my jaw. which aparently didn’t look good judging from the look on his face.

his gaze hardened. “luke”

his hands slithered away as he took a step back i grabbed onto him this time. “ghost please just leave it”

my eyes pleaded with him the best i could. “i’ve got it under control.”

he stood silently for a few more seconds before the palms of his hands reappeared on my cheeks faster than i could blink. i cringed in pain as my right jaw screamed from the interaction. he pulled it away. the fire in his eyes only multiplied.

“how many times?”

well only, everytime i trained with him. which was once or twice a week, but when the guys were on missions without us it was a lot more. and those were a lot harder to hide.

“i can’t even believe i’m asking you.” my brows scrunched in confusion.

he shut his eyes one more time, “please just let me take care of him.” we stood in silence for a little while longer before i muttered “okay” and he was gone.

walking into the weights room the next morning there was no sign of ghost or luke. just two newbies who were trying to bulk.

“fuck dude did you see ghost destroy that kid last night?”

my veins ran cold.

“bro that man is goated! Luke is lucky if he ever fucking walks again man!”

i dropped my towel walking straight to his room. my thoughts aided as a distraction on the way. and when he finally opened the door he was in nothing but grey sweats and a mask leaving his freshly showered hair exposed. along with his lean torso covered in tattoos and scars.

and the image was enough to make me forget why i was there in the first place.

“you-“

my words were caught in my throat. jesus christ how long had it been since i got laid?

“my eyes are up here baby”

my cheeks flushed as i looked back up to him.

“i know that smartass i was just- just- coming to say thank you.”

“mmm” he pushed the door open further walking in. an invitation.

my feet hit the solid metal floors as i shut it behind me.

“so is he, gone?”

ghosts back was faced towards me as his shoulders shook in silent laughter.

“what’s so funny?”

he turned around making eye contact with me before sitting on the corner of the bed manspread with his arms resting on his knees and his eyes still on me.

“he’s lucky if he can even talk after what i did”

i stepped closer to him.

“what if something happened to you ghost? what if he got the drop before you did? or-“

he pulled back sitting up straight. “you worried about me baby?”

i ran my hands through my hair tugging at the roots before he gripped my waist pulling me to stand at the edge of the bed.

“what’s the matter with you?”

my hands traced the paint on his mask.

“i just don’t wanna see you hurt.”

his eyes lit up in amusement “and how do you think i felt seeing you get your ass handed to you by a little boy?”

i shoved his shoulder as he pinched my behind gently. “don’t be a prick.”

but the smile on my face told him i didn’t really mean it. “if no one lays there hands on you i won’t have to be.”

“you can’t protect me from everything riley.”

his thumb traced the outline of my lips. “you questioning my skills again y/l/n?” my smile widened before he grabbed my waist pulling me flat on top of the bed with him hovering over me.

“you should put some clothes on it’s distracting.” i traced his tattoos absentmindedly.

“why would i do that when your clearly enjoying yourself.” my hand slapped his stupid abs, as he hid his face in my neck laughing.

his mask lifted up pressing gentle kisses on my neck. “be careful riley, that’s dangerous territory you’re entering. it’s hard to get out of.”

his face hovered over mine his lips still in view before he leaned down and kissed me. his lips were warm in comparison to his cold body as his tongue traced my lower lips. maybe it was the lack of oxygen but the pleasure from just this alone was hard to pull away from.

“it’s a good thing i’m not going anywhere then isn’t it?”

#ghost imagine #simon riley #simon riley imagine #simon riley x reader #simon riley fanfic #ghost x reader #ghost fanart #ghost imagines #simon riley fluff #simon riley smut

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scudslut · 21 days

Text

too sweet

daryl x fem!reader

warnings: 18+, mdni

a/n: okay, is this like the song? IDK i listened to it on repeat tryna decipher shit and come up with a good plot but i think i got a little lost in the sauce, or maybe im just being mean to myself🫢 ANYWAY I HOPE YOU LIKE IT ANON BYEEE🤍

you two never got along, never saw eye to eye.

years you’d known each other and all it ever did was reveal those differences all the more. highlighting them in bold letters for you to gaze at thoughtfully, but did that stop you?

it was a game you played, back and forth for so long that it became a routine. bicker and disagree till you were blue in the face and at each other's mercy for only the moon to bear witness too.

how many times had you dug into him for his habits. he smoked, kept to himself, he fought, but where had that ever gotten him? it was against your nature. a way of being that you genuinely could not understand.

and he’d be right there with you, matching each dig with his own. you were sweet, too soft. you pleased and walked among ice like you weighed as much as a feather, so predictable it was almost humorous. if you didn’t understand him, he was absolutely riddled by you.

“how do ya sleep at night? huh? don’ya ever get tired of keeping everyone so fuckin happy?” he’d mutter, all the while tearing articles of clothing off of your supple skin, one by one. skin that was pristine by default and worn as if only heaven itself had touched it.

“believe it or not, i actually want people to like me daryl. i like when i can make people happy. it’s not a fucking act,” you sneer back.

who was he to talk? he lived inside his own head. could go days… no, months by himself, not muttering a single word to a breathing soul. and you’d tried to reason, guide, and help, but if anyone knew daryl dixon, they knew he didn’t budge easily. he had to want it for himself and he simply didn’t see the glory in your people-pleasing nature, as he’d like to call it.

sure he saw the value in it, somewhat. but he liked things the way they were, as they were meant to be. if he disagreed with something he sure as shit wasn’t gonna prance around trying not to hurt no feelings.

“alright, you keep tellin’ yerself that, princess.”

so what was it that kept you two coming back for more? why was the tension and aversion between your minds so magnetic between your bodies? he wanted to snap those annoying, pretty lips shut with his. maybe if he kissed you hard enough something would click in that head of yours. maybe he could fuck some clarity into you.

his fingers would rub fast circles over your clit, watching you keen and moan into the pillow beneath you, “how’s that princess? good enough for ya? hm?” he’d mock, “faster? slower?”

“god, would you shut up already?” you tried to sneer only for it to come out as a breathy whine, adding fuel to his pride and smirk across his face. your lips crashed into his in an attempt to diminish it but it was right there, now pressed up against your face, and fuck, why was that so hot? why was his rugged stubble, his long hair kissing your shoulders, and his broad, strong body so infuriatingly sexy to you? muscles built from years of fights, kills, and hunting. you didn’t like it… but you did.

“fuck, i’m gonna-“ you cried to him softy.

“nuh, uh. not yet pretty girl.”

his belt was loud throughout the quiet room. your eyes were squeezed shut in pleasure but you heard the familiar clanks and zips, and then you felt his weight above you — warm and spicy. it pulled you so far and close that you sucked him in before he even got his pants all the way off.

“fuckin’ christ girl,” he groaned, snapping down to meet your hips flush. it was rapid and hot, both of you pouring all your frustrations into each push and pull. frustrations with each other, frustrations with yourselves that you liked this so fucking much.

he fucked you deep and hard like his body hated you, but somehow kissed you so tenderly through it all. his tongue massaging and tangling with yours as if you created his oxygen for him.

“so fucking sweet, princess, y’know that?” he whispered against you, “no good fer me.”

he was telling himself that; convincing himself and you knew it. your body rolled to meet his quickly, feeling every gooey, warm muscle against your skin and drooling over it, “more.”

as if to prove a point he slowed down, pulling out till just his tip was caught at your entrance, and then would thrust in, hard. over, and over, and over until you were singing his name and muffling it with his neck. warm and spicy.

“ya like that? thought ya wanted faster?”

he knew he was walking a line, but what had you guys ever been but a definitive line? a clear distinction of night and day, the only time ever seeing eye to eye being these moments. as one.

you were sent over the edge instantly, spasms of pleasure rolling languidly through your body. the tight swelling of your cunt causing daryl to finish with you and fuck if he didn’t cum the prettiest, sexiest way you had ever seen. straight out of your dirty, teenage fantasies and above you to soak in while you wreathed along with him.

he groaned and cursed into your chest, riding out each wave until he was shaking above you and so sensitive he couldn’t help but hiss as he pulled away, flopping down beside you.

a cigarette was quickly fished from his strewn jeans pockets and placed between his lips, lighting up and rolling back into the pillows lazily. every ounce of mending and merging you had just done was palpably tossed out the window, your scoff loudly filling the silence.

“that will kill you one day, hope you know that,” you muttered whilst gathering your clothes and slipping them on.

he didn’t bat an eye, nothing he hadn’t heard before from you and honestly, he didn’t really care. plenty of things in the world that’ll kill you, your naivety being one of them.

“lemme guess, gotta be up bright n’ early? tendin’ ta all yer charity cases?” he mused as he watched you head for the door. there had never been a night you’d spent together, probably would end up ripping each others faces off alone in room together for that long.

he didn’t get an answer, just an amused eye roll as you opened his bedroom door, “bye daryl.”

and then you were gone, quiet stomps heard as you floated up the stairs and he knew it would only be a matter of days before you were right back here, glued to his body and singing his name like you needed him to survive.

“figures,” he mumbled, taking a long drag from his smoke and smirking softly to himself.

what’s that saying? opposites always attract?

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mrvlbimbo · 2 years

Text

You mean nothing (everything) to me

Eddie Munson x reader

SMUT SMUT SMUT WARNING

4.3k words

She was already having a bad day at work when Mike and Dustin had so rudely bursted through the door of the video shop. The first thing she thought was that they should be at school but then she reminded herself of her own highschool days and she felt more forgiving. “I’m not giving you guys any more rated r movies. My boss had my ass for it last time,” she barked at them as they perused the shelves, clearly trying to build up the courage to ask her something.

“We need a different type of favor actually.” She tried to wrap her head around what Dustin might have been implying. Sure a lot of highschool kids asked her to buy them alcohol and such and she would be lying if she said she never obliged them.

“So we have this DND group,” Mike added and she almost laughed. Of course this would be about Eddie Munson and his stupid fucking DND cult.

“Yeah yeah, with Sinclair. Where is he anyways?” she asked, referring to their other friend who was part of the club as well. She kept up with the kids due to her best-friendship with their resident babysitter Steve Harrington. And because of that she knew that Lucas had a basketball game that night and that’s likely why they were pleading with her to join.

“So that’s why we’re here.” Mike introduced the idea with the amount of elegance she would expect from a Freshman in highschool who played DND in his freetime. He wasn’t convincing in the slightest but she allowed the two boys to continue with their pitch.

“He bailed. We need an extra for tonight.” Dustin brought a reason to the table, seemingly the more logical one of the two.

“Ask Harrington,” she shot back, presenting them with their first alternative. Also presenting her with an out so she wouldn’t have to see the infamous leader of their little club.

“He has a date,” Dustin replied smugly, knowing he had caught her in a bad spot.

“And you assume I don’t.” It was matter of fact. She stated that she had other things to do and that their excursion wasn’t worth her time. She was interested to see how they would respond.

“What you do isn’t considered dating,” Mike scoffed and she thought about smacking him in the side of the head. She decided against it since she was at work, and on her boss’s last nerve.

“Don’t be an ass. You’re too young to be talking about all that crap,” she replied sternly, reminding them that although she was a cool adult she was still an adult.

“So you’ll be there?” He asked, knowing it would be better to ask her a yes or no question than drag on and let her avoid the offer until she was able to coax them out of the shop.

“Yeah. Fine.” She had a soft spot for the kids so it was a no-brainer that she would help them out even if it was really inconvenient and uncomfortable for her.

She went home and changed into something nicer. Even after everything she was still trying to impress Eddie, some things never changed. It’s not like he would care, or more likely he’d make a snide comment about her outfit and then ignore her for the rest of the night.

Her assumption was right, his first words when she walked through the door were a comment about her promiscuity. “You brought the school slut into my sanctuary?” He was as rude as ever, still sporting that ridiculous haircut that she’d never admit to liking.

“Former school slut. I graduated, unlike you,” she snapped back, trying not to show that it hurt her. This game they had been playing for years only worked if he thought she hated him too, she couldn’t even think of how much worse it would be if he knew the truth.

“You don't have to rub it in. Plus I don’t have the advantage of sleeping with my teachers for grades.” He knew it wasn’t true but he said it anyway to get under her skin. He couldn’t help himself when that familiar scowl crawled over her face, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t think it was cute.

“I never- whatever lets just get this stupid shit over with.” She stumbled over her words as she tried to remind herself why she was here in the first place. Partly because she wanted to help her favorite freshmen and partially because she was a bit of an emotional masochist.

The campaign dragged on as far as she was concerned, her character dying early into the final boss battle. Eddie spared no opportunity to make a dig at her at any given chance, making the whole thing even more unbearable.

She also didn’t miss the way, despite claiming to hate her, he wouldn’t take his eyes off her. Men are like that, wanting to fuck the very thing they’re dispise. Although, she liked to think anything with a brain wanted to fuck her. And most of the time she was right.

This was one of those times.

By the time the campaign was over, he was half hard from her leaning over the table in her unbearably low cut shirt. If he was a prude he might have suggested she cover herself up in the presence of the freshmen.

But he wasn't a prude, and he was quite enjoying the view down her shirt. A red lacy bra peaked out from the neckline when she bent down to pick up the dice. He regretted the way he reacted, voicing his frustration in pointed insults and taunting just like he did when they were in school.

When everything was done, he just needed to go home and rub one out in the shower. The shame would set in later, just like it always did. He had had his eyes on her for a while now and nothing was worse than the embarrassment of her obvious disinterest. From what he had heard, she had been with practically every guy in their small town. Except for him.

For some reason she never turned her sights to him. At first he tried to be nice, the way other guys never were. They saw her as a sure thing, never respecting her. He didn’t want to do that to her, take what he wanted and rush off to brag about his conquest.

Embarrassingly, he actually had a really serious crush on her for all of highschool. He stills remembers the day they met, she sauntered into his biology class fifteen minutes late and sat down on top of his desk.

“Can I help you, miss?” the teacher had asked sternly.

“Not unless you can get me a pack of smokes, ma’am.” She hopped off the desk and stepped in front of the class, plucking a piece of chalk up and writing on the board in big letters. Bullshit. She wrote ‘bullshit’ on the chalkboard and then she promptly strutted right back out of the classroom, shooting him a wink as she left.

They became quick friends after that, taking solace in the fact both of them hated everything about the stupid small town. For the first two years of highschool they were inseparable. Things changed once she made a reputation for herself. It started with one guy blabbing his mouth and then another. It’s not like everyone wasn’t doing it, but people latched onto her as the town whore probably because of her unconventional attitude.

It made her more popular. For all the wrong reasons, but still it was nice to have people pay attention to her. Everyone wanted to have something others wanted and she certainly did have that.

She took pride in her looks, utilizing revealing clothing to enhance her already considerable assets. From what he could see, that hadn’t changed. That night she wore a tight, low cut, cropped t-shirt and a denim miniskirt that barely covered her ass.

Her beat up high tops tapped on the floor as she walked over to him. When the boss battle was over he had drifted into his own thoughts as the rest of the group dispersed. She hadn’t gone yet, he assumed it was so she could deliver some heart wrenching insult before she left and never thought about him again. It wasn’t that easy for him, he never stopped thinking about her.

“Oh my god you’re high. You fuckin junkie.” Her voice cut through his trance like a knife. She was always so mean but her voice sounded so pretty to him, it was giving him whiplash.

“I’m not high, I'm just thinking.” He was quick to correct her, wanting her to know he was completely sober for what he was about to say.

“About?” she scoffed, making it clear she didn’t think highly of his intelligence.

“Why do you hate me?” As soon as he asked the question he knew it was a bad idea but he couldn’t help himself. He spent so many nights asking himself that question, it was high time someone else had to answer it.

“Are you seriously asking me that?” she snapped, anger bubbling over. It had been simmering all this time, and him acting like she was the reason there was a divide between them was just the final nail in the coffin.

“Yeah, after you ignored me for three years for no reason. I wanna know why you hate me.” His voice was frantic and upset, he didn’t know what his plan was but he wanted answers and he had her here now. It’s not like there were any remaining bridges to burn anyways.

“Oh because you were so friendly,” she replied sarcastically, referring to the way he had relentlessly mocked and criticized her publicly after their friendship ended. She could handle other people talking about her behind her back, but he said it to her face and it stung.

“I was confused. We were best friends and then-” he tried to defend himself but she quickly interrupted, seething at him trying to play the victim.

“Yeah we were. We were best fuckin friends and then you ruined everything.” Her voice sounded venomous, he flinched when she raised her voice just from the pure anger she radiated.

“What?” he asked dumbly.

“Junior year, winter formal,” she stated, as if it was supposed to mean something and It did mean something to both of them.

He remembered that night like it was yesterday. The dance was boring, they dipped after less than an hour and went back to her place. Her parents weren’t home so they decided to set up in the basement for a horror movie marathon.

She was scared out of her mind, or maybe he was. Either way they were curled up in eachothers arms, hiding from whatever monster was under the bed. After a particularly scary scene, she had crawled into his lap. He had thought maybe after all this time, he was finally going to get a chance with her.

His hands went to cup her waist, gripping the fabric of her dress in between his fingers. She was wearing a puffy purple cocktail dress with glitter. It looked stupid, well it would have looked stupid on anyone else. Because he thought she looked absolutely perfect. And he looked at her like she was the most beautiful person in the world.

She noticed the way he stilled, looking up at him in turn. “Eds, what's wrong?” He didn’t reply, not knowing the words to finally tell her how he felt. The look in his eyes told her all she needed to know. And for a second he thought she was going to kiss him, his hands tightened on her waist in anticipation.

But instead of what he expected, she shrunk back and mumbled something inherently. She made some excuse about being tired and shut off the movie, ordering him to go home. Nothing was said at the time, but he knew something was wrong. And based on the fact she completely ghosted him after that night, he was right.

“Yeah I remember.” He shook his head as if he was trying to shake the memory out, but like so many times before it didn’t work.

“The way you looked at me,” she added. He knew exactly the look she meant. It just hurt him more to realize the reason she rushed out that night was that she found out about his feelings. He had always assumed but having proof was harder somehow.

“You haven’t spoken to me in years because of a look?” he asked, he was angry but more than that he was just sad.

She wasn’t buying it. “No. It wasn't just any look. I know that look. That was the look of a guy who wants something.” That something she was referring to was obviously sex. So maybe he was in the clear, she hadn’t figured out about his feelings. The worse option that seemed to be reality, was she thought he was only friends with her because he was attracted to her.

“OK, is that such a crime?” he asked, not believing that they couldn’t have replaired their relationship from that with a mature conversation. Although, they were not having many mature conversations back at the age of 17.

“All that time. I thought you cared about me. And what, you were just playing the long con for a quick fuck?”

“Ok fine, I’ll admit it. In that moment, yeah I wanted to fuck you.” He should have told her that a quick fuck was absolutly not what he wanted but he was picking up on her anger and mirroring it.

“And now?” she asked, knowing exactly how to push his buttons even after all these years.

“Now? Yeah now I still do,” he admitted, shrugging his shoulders as if it was no big deal. And maybe it wasn’t. Things were different now, they were both adults and they were no longer friends. They could fuck no strings attatched, and that idea was starting to look enticing to them both.

“And the fucked up thing was. I almost did it. Because I liked you Eddie. I really liked you.” She couldn’t hide the way her lip was quivering as she spoke. She was angry but not with him anymore, she was angry with herself for letting him make her feel this. So in a roundabout way she was still mad at him too.

“Why didn’t you?” he questioned, still miffed by the whole ghosting him for three years thing. But she had said it, she liked him all those years ago. Not anymore, he thought. It didn’t matter now, if anything it just made the whole thing sting more.

“Because I knew it wouldn’t mean to you what it meant to me,” she finally admitted, stepping close to him so they were almost chest to chest. She looked up at him with something close to longing and he almost choked.

“And now?” he asked. There was a weird sort of sexual tension in the air that neither of them knew how to confront.

“You mean fucking nothing to me,” she hissed.

“Good,” he whispered, grabbing her face and pressing their lips together harshly. There was no affection in the way he kissed her at first, just rough lust and anger. Both of their pent up feelings spilled out as they grappled at each other's clothes for something to hold onto.

His hands smoothed over her legs, rucking up her skirt so he could squeeze her ass. He snapped the band of her underwear, it was a lacy red to match her bra. “You wear these for me?”

“Would I have needed to?” she teased, knowing by the way his hard on pressed against her that he didn’t need any extra encouragement.

“No. You’d still get me all riled up in a winter coat.” it was one of his ridiculously cheesy lines that she was sure he used on plenty of girls. But she couldn’t help but smile at it a little despite herself.

“How romantic,” she scoffed, pushing him back into a chair and sinking to her knees. Her hands ran up his thighs, kneading at the muscle covered by his ridiculously tight jeans.

She palmed him over the fabric, squeezing somewhat harshly. He didn’t mind one bit. “Fuck. Romantic isn’t the word I would use.” He especially didn’t mind when unzipped his pants and took him in her mouth. She wanted to say something about him going commando but she was a bit preoccupied with him brushing the back of her throat.

“Mmm,” she replied, whatever words she was saying were muffled by his cock in her mouth.

“Harrington is one lucky bastard,” he commented offhandedly, not thinking about his words since he was currently being deepthroated.

She pulled away instantly, as if she had been burned. She stood over him, something she wasn’t usually able to do since he was quite a bit taller than her. “What the fuck did you just say to me?” she snapped, grabbing his jaw and forcing him to look up at her.

He whined when her sharp nails dug into the flesh of his chin. It wasn’t a pained whine, his arousal at her roughness was evident in the way he twitched in his seat. “Nothin. Sorry.” Based on his public persona, she hadn’t expected him to be the submissive type. Not to say she wasn’t enjoying it.

“No Eds. You said something, why don’t you tell me again?” she demanded, taking pleasure in the way he reached for her with grabby hands as she stood there glaring at him.

“I heard rumors about you and Harington, if it’s true he’s a lucky guy. It was a compliment, honest,” he rambled, desperate for her to forgive him and get back to touching him where he needed it.

“You wanna know something?” She climbed into his lap, straddling him with ease in the large throne-like chair. When she first walked in she thought the chair was absolutely absurd, but now she was grateful for its width. She wrapped one hand around his neck as she leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “I never fucked Steve. I never wanted to.”

“No?” he choked out, having a difficult time talking due to her gripping his throat tightly in her hand. He wouldn’t ask her to stop in a million years though.

She pressed little kisses all around his cheeks and jaw, never touching his mouth with hers. This might have upset him if he wasn’t too blissed out to notice with her lacey panties pressed tight against his cock. “All those years. I only ever wanted you.”

He nodded furiously, as if to say to ‘me too, i’ve been in love with you since freshman year.’ But that's not what she interpreted it as. She grinded down on him, squeezing his neck and biting a line up his neck. “Lookit you. Can’t even talk,” she cooed.

She removed the hand abstracting his breathing so both of her hands could cup his cheeks. “Gonna be good for me?” she asked, her overly sweet voice almost taunting him. He cringed at the fact she would never be this nice to him if he wasn’t about to stick his dick in her.

That made him understand what she was feeling a little bit better. All those years ago, when he was prepared to tell her he loved her, she thought all he wanted was her body. And she used to like him, he had said it. Now it was too late and all he got was some mindblowing sex to give her closure and make him fall even deeper under her spell.

And so his heart was heavy when she pushed her panties aside and slid down onto his cock. That didn’t make it any less pleasurable when she clenched around him. He felt like he was going to pass out, barely catching the praise spilling from her mouth. “Fuck, Eds. We shoulda done this ages ago,” she moaned, carefully picking her hips up and bringing them back down slowly.

“Yeah,” he agreed lazily, letting his hands fall to her waist and rub little circles on the skin there. She went slow which he appreciated, deep slow thrusts that made both of them shiver. His heartache had faded, realizing he would be content to only be one of her conquests. He would be anything she wanted if she kept looking at him like that.

Her eyes were glassy and filled with lust. She was usually so sharp but she looked content and peaceful for once. She looked beautiful. He brought one of his hands up to the back of her hair to smash their lips together again.

It was aggressive and messy, his tongue fighting to engulf every bit of her mouth. She giggled when he pulled back and kissed her again on the tip of her nose. “So pretty,” he murmured. He could've sworn his heart stopped when her walls fluttered around him at the praise.

“Eddie,” she gasped out when he finally brought his thumb down to circle her clit. He wasn’t as experienced as her but he knew his way around, both from porn and from a few hookups where he insisted on practicing that specific skill. None of his sexual interactions could top this, being balls deep in any other girl wouldn’t even compare to the way she said his name.

“Can’t leave my girl hanging,” he teased as she moaned into the skin of his neck, forgetting to move her hips for a minute due to his fingers distracting her.

She chose to ignore the fact that he called her his girl, she could deal with that later. What she couldn't deal with later was the fact he was very clearly close to his orgasm. He had noticed as well, speeding up his pace on her clit and using his other hand to tweak one of her nipples. “Shit. I’m close. Gimme a sec, I’ll get you there.”

She chuckled softly at his insistence. Her eyes were filled with admiration or something of the sort. He almost came right there, he could handle her fucking his brains out but something about her being soft with him was what really got him going. “Don't look at me like that. I won't last.”

“You don't have to. Cum inside me. Please.” She was coming close to her peak as well, his talented fingers working wonders at ‘getting her there’ as he had phrased it.

Her offer was all it took for him to spill inside her. The thick ropes of cum pumping into her along with his lips on her neck forced her over the edge as well.

Usually after such exertion she would flop down onto a soft bed and bathe in the bliss of it all for a moment. However, they were in a tricky position so she just kind of sat there awkwardly staring at him.

It wasn’t as awkward for him. From where he was standing, or sitting would be the correct term, he had just had the best sex of his life and the girl he’d been in love with for six years was filled with his cum and sitting on his dick and keeping it nice and warm for him. “Fuck. I love you.” That shook her out of her post orgasmic haze instantly.

She shook her head, not looking at him as she started to cry. It was abrupt and he was worried he had done something seriously wrong but he continued because he needed her to know how he felt.

“You meant everything to me back then. You still do,” he admitted, his hands cupping her cheeks so she would look at him with her tearfilled eyes.

“Don’t say that,” she pleaded, begging him not to get her hopes up but he brushed her off like it was nothing.

“It’s true. I love you,” he repeated, this time with more meaning and passion if that was possible.

“Eds,” his old nickname slipped out of her mouth so easily. It hurt to hear the way she said it. Like she was cautioning him against continuing his confession, or almost like she was pleading.

“That night at junior prom, I wasn’t trying to fuck you. I was going to tell you about how I felt.” When he said that, all the puzzle pieces finally fit together in her head. But she had been telling herself for so long that he could never feel that way about her, it didn’t even compute that he was confessing his love for her over and over again.

“We’re not even 20. You can’t really think this is anything more than teenage hormones.” She was always cynical. He loved that about her but it was getting damn frustrating.

“You tell me? Do you love me?” he asked, finally turning the question back around at her. She was never a good liar.

“I can't-'' she tried to avoid the question but he cut her off.

“You’ve got my heart in your hand and I’m just asking you to break it. Do you love me?” She never realized how poetic he could be. He was always teatricial, but never like this. It made her think for a second that maybe he was serious.

Screw it, she figured. Why not? “Yeah. I do. I love you.”

He could already feel his dick hardening again at that admittance. And she could likely feel it too since he was still situated inside of her. “This isn’t going to sound very romantic, but do you want to go back to my place?” he asked hesitantly, way too timid for their current position. “Yeah I’d like that,” she replied before kissing him softly. It was slow and sweet, like they had all the time in the world. Because they did.

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