#I listened to it for the second time today

[sinner-as-saint]

here forever

Bucky Barnes x Reader 

Run-through: Dating a superhero was no joke. And as noble as Bucky’s job was, it was just as dangerous and unpredictable. Which is why ever since you and Bucky started dating, he’d been training you in his free time. Teaching you how to defend yourself if ever he wasn’t around to protect you, or if ever his enemies came after you. Although you weren’t perfect at combat yet, you were almost certain you could get out of a tricky situation if you ever found yourself in one. But you were soon proven wrong. And your only option was to hope and pray that Bucky finds you in time. 

Themes: smut, fluff, mentions of kidnapping and death, boyfriend!bucky to the rescue, slight angst, hurt/comfort, mean!dom!bucky, aftercare, biker!bucky (except i made him wear a helmet because safety), mild daddy kink (nicknames only)

a/n: short, quick lil fic because I know we’re all hungry

It had been two hours since these strange men had so easily abducted you off the streets. 

It was a regular day, you were leaving yoga class and were on your way to pick up a smoothie. A treat you always got yourself after each workout class. Nothing out of the ordinary. Except Bucky’s incessant messages asking about your location. 

You knew you weren’t supposed to let your guard down, not even on busy streets – one of the first lessons Bucky taught you just weeks after your first date with him. But you couldn’t help looking down and frowning at your phone. Your bag, purse and phone in your hands. Always have your hands free when walking alone, even on busy streets – the second thing he taught you. 

Always be ready. Always be ready. Always be fucking ready. 

But you had messed up that morning. Bucky’s messages were starting to worry you. He had been away since last night, and as usual, never gave you too many details about his job. But all you knew was that before he left, he’d asked you to try and not go out if you could. Your apartment was safe. He had eyes all over that building. Cameras, security guards, it was the safest place you could be. 

‘Where are you? Why aren’t you home?’

Seconds later: 

‘I told you not to go out. It’s not safe right now. Call me.’ 

Then some missed calls which you couldn’t answer because you were in class at the time. Then messages one after the other: 

‘Go straight home.’ 

‘Is your class over?’ 

‘Go home and wait for me. Don’t open the door for anyone else.’ 

‘Baby I’m so serious right now, go home.’ 

And you were midway through typing an answer to reply to him. To tell him not to worry. To tell him that yes your class was over, and everything was okay and you would call him as soon as you got home. 

But you never got the chance to reply to his messages. 

It all happened too fast. One moment you were looking down, all your focus on your phone and boyfriend, and the next, you were being grabbed and shoved into a dark truck. You barely even got a scream out before the doors were shut and a tape sealed your mouth, ropes snaking around your wrists and ankles. 

And just like that, in less than a full minute, you were taken. 

And here you were now. 

In the back of that same truck which had been driving for about two hours, maybe more. Getting further and further away from the city you lived in, and into more and more unknown areas. 

Fuck! You had messed up. 

You should’ve checked your phone while you were still inside the building. You shouldn’t have been texting on the streets. You shouldn’t have let your guard down. Bucky had been saying for weeks that he suspected people had eyes on him, and consequently you because you two spent a lot of time together. 

He was right of course. He always was. You should’ve listened. You should’ve stayed at home, at least until he got back later today. 

A tear slid down your face, like it had been for the past hours. You silently cried, thinking about all the potential circumstances you could end up finding yourself in. You couldn’t even tell who were the men who kidnapped you because they all wore masks and hadn’t said a single word in the past hours. 

They were armed. And the truck seemed bulletproof. And they kept driving. Nothing said about wanting a ransom, nothing about why they had taken you, or whether they were using you as bait to get Bucky’s attention. Surely they were. 

And a few minutes later, when you heard the familiar roar of a familiar bike, you knew they had his full attention. 

Bucky was here. 

But they hadn’t noticed yet. And you didn’t want them to. So you tried to get all their attention on you by wiggling in the backseat, acting like you were trying to get more comfortable. The two armed men right in front of you just glanced at you and your tied limbs and let you be. 

You noticed the guy in the passenger seat didn’t even bother looking at you. The driver looked into the rearview mirror but quickly looked away and ahead. 

They still hadn’t heard the faint, steady roar of Bucky’s bike. 

Perfect. 

By the time Bucky would get close enough to attack, he would catch them by surprise. And it would be too late for them to react and defend themselves. 

So you kept moving, grunting in annoyance extra loudly just to mask the sound of Bucky’s bike as it got closer and closer– 

A loud gunshot exploded near you. For a moment nothing made sense. 

Then you realised the truck was no longer steady, it was tilted on one side. Bucky had shot one or more of the tires. You sighed in relief, while the men in the vehicle panicked. Muffled voices spoke all at once, one of them telling the driver to drive faster. 

Another, one of the men who was armed in front of you, lowered the window and popped his head and gun out, trying to find whoever was around but it was too late. 

You turned your head and managed to catch a glimpse of him through the rear windshield. Amongst the smoke and dirt flying, there he was. Mounted on his mean bike like a fierce general riding his beast into battle. Except this general wasn’t backed by soldiers. He was alone. 

But army or not, he was still Bucky Barnes. All black bike, black helmet, full biker gear, metal arm catching the sunlight. Guns strapped to his body. He looked like Death. 

A sob shook your body as you ducked and hid under the seats as much as you could as Bucky rain down bullets like hellfire upon the vehicle. He knew it was bulletproof, but you were certain he was doing it just to get the men to use their weapons and waste their bullets on him as fast as possible. 

The loud noises made it seem like your brain was vibrating, your heart was racing, and your ears were hurting with how loud the guns and shouts were. But Bucky was here, and all would be well now. 

A few seconds later, the truck began zig-zagging. You assumed it must be because the driver got shot. More shouts and bullets later, the truck came to a sudden stop. Like it collided with something that was strong enough to stop it even at that speed. 

But there was nothing on the empty streets you had been on. Nothing except… Bucky. 

An eerie silence followed. Then footsteps. The men in the truck had all been shot you realised upon smelling the scent of blood and gunpowder. 

You couldn’t get yourself up, not with your limbs still tied but you tried your best. And you were barely up when you heard the sound of metal literally tearing apart. You managed to peek from the back seat and Bucky had torn off one of the doors. The entire door off the side of the truck. 

You couldn’t call for him, but you kicked the back of one of the seats hard enough to get his attention. 

The moment his ocean blue eyes met your teary ones, you couldn’t help but start crying. Hot, burning tears streaming down your face as Bucky almost tore apart the entire truck to get to you. The moment he grabbed you and pulled you out into the open air, it was only his arm around you keeping you up. 

“I’ve got you,” He whispered over and over again, “You’re safe. I’ve got you, baby. It’s okay, it’s okay. I’m here.” He repeated continuously as he carefully peeled the tape off your lips and cupped your face in his hands, looking at you intently to look for injuries while he wiped your tears away. “Are you hurt?” He asked, looking more panicked and worried than ever. “Baby, answer me. Did they hurt you? Inject you with anything? Touch you?” 

You shook your head, wanting nothing more than to just be able to take a deep breath, now safe in his arms. Only when you went to wrap your shaky arms around him, he stopped you. Keeping you at arms’ length and away from him. 

That worried, soft look in his eyes turned cold. Even under the afternoon sun, you shivered under his gaze. 

“What the fuck did I tell you before I left, huh?” He snarled. “I told you to stay inside, don’t leave the building. Didn’t I say that?” 

You sniffled, nodding. “I just went to my weekly class, and–,” 

He cut you off, hissing, “And look what happened!” He was almost screaming in your face, “You’re so lucky I got here in time. You’re so fucking lucky I have a tracker in that bag of yours. Otherwise it would’ve taken me days to get to you! Days!” 

You trembled, knowing he was right. Bucky dealt with dangerous people. He knew why he asked you to be cautious. 

Bucky leaned closer to you, looking down at you with no warmth. “These aren’t the villains you read about in your silly, little fucking books.” His voice sounded menacing, freezing. “These are actual, dangerous people. They wouldn’t have waited for you to charm your way out. They would’ve killed you!” He yelled. 

“I’m sorry,” You sobbed. “I was replying to your texts and–,” 

“We had a deal, didn’t we?” He grabbed you by the chin and forced you to look at him. “That when I tell you it’s not safe out there, you stay put. You stay inside and wait for me.” He growled. “You could’ve been killed today! And who would have had to live with that, huh? Who would’ve had to live with the disappointment that he couldn’t keep you safe? That he brought you into this shitty life and couldn’t even keep you alive?” He bellowed. “Who would’ve had to look your family in the eyes and tell them he lost you? Me! That’s who!” 

More tears, and a whimper escaped your lips. “I’m sorry.” You whispered. You had never seen this side of him. He let go of your face like it burned to touch you. 

He looked around, at the torn apart truck. At the bodies. The bullets on the ground. He grimaced but didn’t say anything. He reached into the truck and grabbed your things. Your bag and all that you had on you when you were taken. Your phone wasn’t here though, they must’ve thrown it out onto the streets while they took you. 

Bucky said, “We need to get out of here. Come.” 

He didn’t turn around to see if you were following, he knew you would. Once he got on his bike, he handed you his jacket and helmet. You put both on without questioning where you were going. 

Once sat behind him, your arms hesitantly around his torso, he turned to the side and said, “City’s not safe right now. We’ll spend the night at a motel nearby.” 

And that was all he said for the next few hours. 

– 

By the time you two made it to the motel – which was much, much more decent and clean than you had imagined – the sun was already setting. The place was quiet. A few voices conversing here and there, ACs humming as ACs do, cars coming in and out frequently given there was a gas station nearby, and a burger joint on the other side of the street. 

Bucky got you two a room for the night, and didn’t say a word to you as he grabbed your hand and led you to the room. 

It was a decent room. Bed, bedside tables, TV, sofas. The usual. 

You didn’t notice Bucky had packed a bag as well. You hadn’t been paying much attention anyway. He placed his much bigger bag on the bed and pulled out a few things. Some belonging to you, you noticed. Toothbrush, soaps, clean clothes. 

He handed a bunch of things to you and said, “Go shower.” He didn’t even look at you as he spoke. Guess he was still angry at you. 

You didn’t argue. You just took the things and rushed to the bathroom, locking yourself in there for a good half an hour. 

When you stepped out of the shower, feeling clean finally, you noticed Bucky wasn’t in the room. And the weather outside had changed. You could hear the faint thunder approaching. Surely by tonight there would be a storm. 

But where had Bucky gone? 

You put your clothes away in your bag, and with no phone you had no choice but to turn the TV on. You got in bed, a few minutes into watching some random documentary when Bucky walked in with food. 

You gave him a look, wondering if he would talk to you now. But all he said as he placed the bags filled with food on the bed was, “It’s none of your fancy green smoothies and healthy wraps, but it’ll have to do for now. I’m going to shower.” 

Then he disappeared. 

You were still upset, but then hunger took over and you pawed at the bags like a raccoon. You found milkshakes, fries, and burgers. And you ate while you wondered how long Bucky would keep being angry at you. 

You were halfway through your second burger when Bucky walked out of the shower. With nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. His wet, dark hair pushed back, droplets of water still dripping down his chest and abs. 

You swallowed your food before you choked, then looked away, acting as if the documentary on the TV was much more interesting to look at compared to your half naked boyfriend. 

“Are you hurt anywhere?” He asked, and you noticed he was carrying a first-aid kit in his hands. 

You shook your head. 

“Nothing? No scratches, nothing?” He asked again. 

You shrugged, “Just a small cut. It’ll heal. Nothing serious.” 

He walked over to your side of the bed, and said, “Show me.” 

You didn’t want to argue so you placed your food aside, lifted your shirt and showed him the minuscule cut on your ribs. “It’s not–,” 

But he cut you off by placing the kit down and looking for some cotton and disinfectant. 

It burned as he cleaned in and put a little bandaid over it. It hurt even more when he didn’t kiss it after like he usually does whenever he tends to your cuts and wounds. 

You didn’t say a word though. And soon, you both finished your food in silence with only the TV and the approaching storm as noise in the background. 

The thunder got louder and louder as you both got into bed. That weird silent treatment continued, and by now you were annoyed as well. You’d admit, it was your fault for being so careless when he’d told you to be cautious. But didn’t he see that you needed him now? 

Couldn’t he see you wanted to be held? And kissed? And comforted? 

You frowned in the dark. The lights from outside came through the blinds and lit the room up a little bit. As did the lightning. You were the only one tossing and turning you noticed, Bucky was asleep it seemed. 

But the thunder, the new bed, the fear and stress from earlier, it was all keeping you from falling asleep. Plus, it was a little embarrassing to admit, but you liked being held while you fell asleep. But Bucky wasn’t even talking to you, and wrapping your own arms around yourself wasn’t working. 

Another hour went by. Now the heavy rain finally came, along with a proper thunder storm. And you couldn’t take it anymore. 

You turned to face Bucky and he had his eyes shut, facing you. Not a single item of clothing on his body, except for a thin sheet covering him from the waist down. You sighed, frowning a little in annoyance still but you couldn’t help but scoot closer to him, seeking his warmth and embrace. 

First you pressed into him, to see if he would stir or wake up. He didn’t. So you got bolder and took his metal arm and placed it around you, waiting again. He didn’t move. So you went to wrap your arms around him, and once you did, you heard his sleepy voice saying, “Oh, what’s this? Now you need me?” 

You froze, trying to see if you could pretend you were asleep already. He didn’t buy it. 

“I know you’re awake.” 

You sighed. “It’s the thunder.” You said, nuzzling his warm neck. 

“And you need daddy to protect you now, little bunny?” He mocked. “But when I try to tell you what to do to keep you safe you never listen.” 

You noticed he kept his arm around you, pulling you more into him even as he chided you. “I’m so sorry, Buck. It won’t happen again.” 

He hummed. “It better not.” 

You were quiet for a second or two, then said, “You were so mean to me earlier.” 

“I have to be.” He said sternly. “You never listen. You don’t take your training seriously, you think you’re ready to fight your way out, baby, but you’re not. All I asked you to do was not to leave that apartment until I got there. But you couldn’t help but be a brat, could you?” 

You squirmed in shame. “I don’t want you to be angry with me.” 

“Well,” He said, sounding sassy as he pulled you closer, “I am pissed. Deal with it.” 

You had had enough. You slipped out of his arms, “Stay here and brood then,” You tried to get out of bed, “I’ll sleep on one of the sofas–” 

Bucky didn’t let you. A loud thunder boomed right above as he pulled you back into bed and climbed on top of you. “Stop being fucking difficult.” He hissed. 

Before you could answer, his mouth was on yours. Beard scratching your face, his long hair tickling the sides of your face. 

His kiss was rough and it hurt in the best way. Bucky pulled away for a brief moment, squeezed your cheeks so you couldn’t close your mouth. “Brat.” Glaring down at you, he spat in your mouth before kissing you again. 

Your brain felt like it was floating. His kiss was hot. And messy. 

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, “Needy little brat. Can’t ever do as you’re told, can you? You almost got fucking killed today, but you don’t care about that. Do you? Huh?” 

You were quiet. Your brain was too foggy with lust to function. 

“Why are you quiet? No bratty words for daddy?” He asked, sliding his rough hands up and down your parted thighs. You spread them even more the moment he touched you and he smirked when he noticed it. “Go on, tell me to stop. Tell me to let you go.” He taunted, knowing full well you would never do that. 

All you did was whimper as he touched you mindlessly, sliding his fingers up and down your slit, spreading your wetness around. 

“You’re gonna listen from now on.” He stated. “I don’t care what it takes. I’ll lock you in that apartment if I have to. But from now on, if I tell you it’s not safe out there, you do not leave that house. You hear me, princess?” 

Silence. Which earned you a slap on the thigh. You yelped in pain before glaring at him. “Fine,” You said, “Yes, I hear you. I’ll be good.” You whined. 

“Of course you will,” He said, his metal hand pinned you down on the bed by wrapping around your neck to keep you in place, while his other hand wrapped around his cock. Pumping it once, twice while holding your stare. “‘Cause I’ll have you over my knee and spank that little butt raw if you don’t.” 

You whimpered and squirmed because of how badly you needed him inside you. “I will. I’ll be so good,” You begged, “Buck, please.” 

Bucky wasted no time sliding inside of you. Giving you no time to even think, he moved in and out of you in a way that had you moaning out loud, not caring that the walls might be thin. 

The storm got louder somehow, thunder rumbling and lightning lighting up the room every now and then. The rain got heavier, silencing the rest of the world as Bucky fucked you. His body weight pressing down onto you in a way that made you never want to be anywhere else. 

It didn’t matter that you were in a small motel room, so far away from home. It didn’t matter that danger could still be lurking around. Nothing mattered, not when he held your stare as he fucked you hard and fast, barely giving you time to breathe right. 

He leaned in again, whispering against the corner of your open mouth, “Look how you behave the moment you have some cock in you. Is that all my baby wanted? Daddy’s cock? Hmm? Is this why you’ve been pouting for the past few hours?” He chuckled, spreading your thighs even more, “I’ve been mean to you, haven’t I?” He cooed, fucking into you deeper somehow. “I’ve been so mean by telling you just where you messed up and how bad things could’ve gotten if I didn’t reach you in time. I’m so mean to you, aren’t I?” He mocked you, scoffing, “Is that why your pussy is strangling my cock, baby? Because daddy’s so mean to you, is he?”

You could feel your face getting hotter as your walls clenched around him over and over again, as he sped up and pounded into you. You felt all of him stretching you out, filling you up, moving rapidly in and out of you until he was all you could focus on. 

“Is this what you wanted, little bunny?” He whispered, pounding into you relentlessly as he bent down to bite your lower lip and tug on it. “Is this enough to make you behave from now on, baby?” 

You moaned at how perfect his warm body felt on top of yours, his weight pressing down on you. His stubble tickled your skin as he kissed your face and bit on your lip. Your legs trembled as his thrusts, relentless and unbearably good. The pressure around your lower body grew, familiar, tight and hot.

The storm, the streetlights, and every little bit of light allowed you to see how Bucky looked down at you as you tightened around his cock. He smirked, looking down to where his cock disappeared into you each time he thrust in. “I killed for you today.” He whispered, “I saved you, and this is what I get? Attitude? A bratty girl? Not even a thank you,” He scoffed, “Not even a ‘thank you for saving me daddy’, nothing.” The cold cruelty in his voice only made you clench around him harder. 

His hand squeezed your throat again, making you moan even louder. “Dirty little slut. Look at you, all cock drunk.” He scoffed, giving you yet another messy kiss. “Are you gonna be good from now on?” 

“Yes,” You whined, not recognising your voice because of how desperate you sounded. Then again, only he could make you sound this way. You whimpered, unable to say anything else because of how good he felt sliding in and out of you. 

Fuck, you needed this. So much. You whined again when his hand let go of your throat, fingers trailing down your squirming body until his metal fingers found your clit, toying with it while he pounded into you mercilessly. 

“Yeah?” He stared deep into your eyes as he spoke. “You’re gonna be my good girl and listen to me?” 

You nodded, tears streaming down your face again. The exhaustion from earlier, the day you had survived. It was all too much. “Please…” You whimpered, squirming and unable to hold back anymore. You needed to come so bad. Your thoughts were a mess. 

“Good girl.” 

And you couldn’t hold back anymore. You came undone all around him. Moaning, your back arching off the bed as you came hard around his cock, tightening around him even harder than earlier. 

Bucky kept pounding into you as your orgasm washed over you, your walls squeezing him violently. Your body trembling under him. “That’s it, babygirl. Come for daddy.” 

You could hear the untamed hunger in his deep, growly voice. He groaned until he came undone as well. You whined and whimpered as you felt him filling you up, his thrusts slowing down, his cum dripping down your inner thighs. 

—

You vaguely remember his cleaning the two of you. He let you rest for a minute, but then it seemed like he couldn’t keep his hands to himself. So he flipped you around, straddled you and began massaging your worn out body. 

He rubbed his rough hands all over your back, down your hips, and thighs. It was quiet for a while. Just the rain, the thunder, and the sound of Bucky breathing. 

Then you heard his gentle voice. “I can’t lose you. Not you.” He whispered, like he was saying it to himself, “Not you, baby.” 

Your heart throbbed and pinched.  

He leaned down and kissed the back of your neck, your shoulders, down your spine, all while massaging your body. “I don’t like being mean to you.” He kissed his way up again, nuzzling your ear and whispering, “Earlier today,” He spoke softly, “When I watched the tracker show me how fast you were getting further and further away, thinking about how they must’ve grabbed you. How easily, how quickly they took you, I–,” His voice cracked. 

You couldn’t help the tears anymore, “I’m sorry.” You tried to turn over and face him but he gently pushed you back down on the bed. 

“Shh,” He shut you up. “Just let me take care of you.” His hands touched you everywhere. Soft touches soothing the spots he’d grabbed harshly earlier. “You scared me, baby.” He kissed around the cut on your side. “For a moment I thought I’d never see you again.” 

“I’ll be good, I promise.” You sniffled, trying to look at him over your shoulder. “I’ll train harder, I’ll be better. I won’t let my guard down, ever.” 

He leaned in and kissed your lips gently. “You’re perfect.” He stated. “We’ll work on training you better. We’ll be okay. Don’t worry baby, I’ve got you. Always.” 

You gave him a teary smile and sheepishly said, “Thank you for saving me.” 

Bucky laughed softly, nuzzling your neck again, kissing your skin like he couldn’t get enough. “I would burn this entire world down if anyone tries to take you from me again.” 

You laid your head back down on the pillow, laughing softly. Thinking he was joking. 

He wasn’t.

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

Back To Work | Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader | Drabble - 800 words

Retirement, a new house, a romantic evening planned, Bucky just knew that life was all going too well . Especially when he starts being hounded to return to his superhero life.

Warnings: language, fluff, a little angsty at the end. Featuring domestic thunderbolts Bucky.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics and @reveriesources

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes

“Bucky, are you ready to go baby?” Your voice carried through from the living room as he clicked his arm back into place, shrugging his shoulder to get the fit right. 

You'd been excited all day, buzzing around the new house and opening boxes, trying to unpack at the same time as finding the perfect outfit. Bucky was only half regretting making plans so soon after moving, sure it was stressful trying to dig out his nice shoes from the piles of boxes and bags, but seeing you so happy was completely worth it and knowing you’d be coming home to your house, together, was just the icing on the cake. 

Now the sun was setting and you had turned on the downlighters in the kitchen, void of your usual clutter it looked lonely. 

“Just checking my phone, Doll.” He called back picking the offending item up from the counter - so many missed messages, he sighed.

 He'd been better recently, replying to Sam and catching up with him every week or so. He'd even managed to facetime Steve in his retirement home. He quite enjoyed the easy freedom of digital communication. But today, of all days, it had been pinging non-stop all driving him crazy during the drive and ruining the relaxing and, he hoped, romantic atmosphere he was trying to create. 

“Come on, baby, I don't want to be late.” You strolled into the kitchen and he dropped the phone again to focus his attention on you instead, taking in your dress and heels, your lipstick perfectly done. How could he worry about a stupid phone when you were together. 

“C’mere,” he pulled you close, tucking you under his chin and planting a kiss to the top of your head. 

He smelt lovely, fresh from the shower but with the hint of cut wood from building furniture. His vest revealed the hint of his dog tags, outlined under the fabric, as well as his tanned skin from a summer well spent outside, your traced your fingers over the chain and up his neck. Tangling your fingers in his long hair you tugged him down for a kiss. 

“Love you, Buck.” You whispered against his lips, heat surging through you just at his presence. 

“Love you too.” His lips tickled your cheek, behind your ear, and then he was swinging you up onto the counter. 

“Don't make us late!” 

“If you don't like it, stop giggling.” His fingers tickled up your bare legs, eyes twinkling with desire. 

Ping 

“That fucking phone,” Bucky growled, grabbing it again. More messages, more missed calls. 

“You should see what they want,” wrapping your arms and legs around him as you tugged Bucky closer, every line and curve fitting against him perfectly. He was sun warmed and cuddly, still ridiculously strong, but the hard lines and plains had softened since his retirement and you couldn’t get enough. 

“Fine, for you, then we're going to go and have a nice dinner and I'm leaving this stupid thing here.” He grumbled, chin on top of your head. 

You giggled again, leaving kisses on his chest. Bucky was so attached to that thing you didn't believe it for a second. Until his breathing went funny, heartbeat speeding up beneath your cheek. 

“What is it?”

His eyes had lost their sparkle, looking sad and serious. 

“I might have to rearrange dinner.” 

“What? Why?” You couldn’t see the phone, but his eyes raced across whatever he’d been sent.

“Where did we pack the gear?”

“The what? Oh - uh,it's in the trunk, in the garage but -” 

Bucky slid away, eyes glazed, focussed, intent and you were suddenly so cold without his presence.Your heart sank listening to the movement in the garage on the other side of the wall. 

He emerged ten minutes later, his smart trousers and vest discarded in favour of leather, the dirty t-shirt he'd been wearing while you were unpacking was back and he’d at least grabbed his soft leather jacket for protection. 

You threw yourself into his arms, tears springing to your eyes. “Are you needed?” 

“I think so,” his voice was low, sinking into the headspace required to take on whatever danger was lurking. 

“Come back to me in one piece, okay?” Your voice cracked, arms squeezing him impossibly tight.

“Of course, doll.” He looked at you then, tears welling in his own eyes, his lips so soft against your own. 

“You're my hero, you know that? You don't have to do anything else?” 

He nodded, letting you slide back to the floor, heels clicking on the tile in a sad reminder of your ruined evening. 

“I love you, Bucky.”

“I love you, lock the door behind me, okay? Don’t let anyone, anyone, in.” 

It was your turn to nod, you knew the protocols, the rules that reassured him. 

His bike roared to life, then he was gone, and you were alone in the echo of your home. 

[rvp32]

Heir to the clan's legacy- Chapter 3

White cum spills out of Yoona's stuffed pussy and your cock is covered in her juices and your seed.

You turn around and smirk.

"Mommy…why don't you clean my cock?"

"Y/N Do you know what the fuck you have just done!" Taeyeon screams as she walks toward you.

The loud scream makes you lose your concentration a little allowing Yoona to escape from your binding

"What have I done, mommy? I fucked Auntie Yoona because she's sexy. I'm an adult. Why are you so mad?"

"I told you specifically not to do any such thing before you left and not only did you go ahead and fuck your aunty and cum inside of her you also had the audacity to call me here," Taeyeon screams

You then turn to Yoona.

"She enjoyed it. Didn't you, mommy" You say smirking, calling Yoona mommy.

Yoona was still recovering from the orgasm and she was also scared but she shyly said, " It was some of the best sex that I have had in a very long time,"

You smirk smiling, but then Taeyeon flash-stepped and you barely reacted since you weren't on guard. You manage to bat her arm away.

"I'm not a kid anymore, mommy…if I want to fuck YoonA. I will."

"Enough, put on your clothes you are coming home with me right now and we will talk about your behavior," Taeyeon says

she then looks to Yoona, " We are going to have a really long conversation about this Yoona,"

But you shake your head.

"No. I'm not going with you. I didn't do anything wrong." You flash step and put your clothes back on but then you also grab your sword and assume a challenging position.

"Y/n don't do this, all I am suggesting is that we talk. I am not trying to hurt you or even fight you. So calm down, " Taeyeon says trying to calm you down

"Talk about what? You can't baby me anymore. I want to be with Yoona…I will be with Yoona. I'll be with whoever I want. You know I asked Kazuha to be my girlfriend today?"

Yoona was also shocked by this information because she didn't expect you to have already a girlfriend whom you just started dating today. She felt bad because she was your side piece and the second option.

"I am not babying you anymore! I won't do it. We left off at a very bad place in the morning so I just want to clear it up. For fucks sake just listen to me just this one fucking time," Taeyeon said her showing more and more frustration as the conversation goes on

You turn to Yoona.

"Just so you know, you aren't a side piece or a second option…I need to restart my clan…I want you, need you as a partner, Yoona…I love you just as I love Kazuha."

Yoona's expression turned softer after hearing that, she also realized the huge responsibility you had.

You then turn to Taeyeon.

"Don't you understand that? I love you…I want you…who better to restart my clan than you, Mommy?"

"I am open to that and I would be really happy to help you with it as well but Y/n you need to learn to take consent before you jump onto people like that, I was confused and didn't know what you really wanted," Taeyeon explained

You then flash step to her and kiss her deeply again.

"I want you…I want both of you…" Your spiritual pressure rising again.

"Calm down, you don't need to release so much spiritual pressure, I am right here," Taeyeon says as she brushes a little bit of your hair

"I need both of you…" I say with lust, as I derobe once again. "Both of my mommies…sucking my cock…I'm still so full mommy, you said you'd always take care of me.." You pout like a child, playing on Taeyeon's motherly affection for you.

"I will baby boy, I will always take care of my pretty little boy," Taeyeon says before grabbing your cock and slowly rubbing it

"Oh.." I moan, finally. My mommy..my hot mommy.

"Yoona mommy…Taeyeon mommy…please both suck my cock…worship it…"

Yoona crawls to you, with your cum still dripping out of her freshly used pussy. she massages your balls as Taeyeon plays with your cock

"Oh fuck yeah…yes…use your lips my mommies…fuck.."

"aww is that so if you want mommy to use her lips you are going to have to beg pretty boy," Taeyeon whispers in your ear and bites it

You counter and kiss at her neck. You were kissing your mommy…your beautiful Taeyeon and you nibble at her ear too.

"Please Mommy…suck my cock…I've wanted to feel it for so long…your beautiful lips and tongue.."

"Now, that's a good boy, " Taeyeon coos before getting on her knees and taking the tip of her cock into your mouth.

Yoona takes this opportunity to stand up and kiss you passionately

"Mommy it feels so good…you were meant to do this right? My cock…to take care of me…this is the only cock you ever need…"

Taeyeon speeds up, taking in more of your cock every time she went down, trying her best to fit your entire cock into her tiny cute mouth

"Holy fuck mommy…oh my god…that feels so good…yes all of it.."

You kiss Yoona too, but you begin to thrust into Taeyeon's mouth.

Yoona pulls away from the kiss, "Go on fuck that throat like you mean it, show her who she belongs to," Yoona moans into your ear and goes on to kiss your neck and leave marks all over it

This turned you on a lot. As you begin to ram your cock into Taeyeon's thrust over and over.

"My mommy whore…my mommy bitch…my slutty mommy…" You chant as you finally get what you want. Taeyeon began choking on your cock a little but she still continued to take it into her throat as much as she could.

"Go on paint your mommy's throat white with all the precious cum, " Yoona moans as she uses your fingers to stimulate her clit

You bite at Yoona's breasts and suck on her tit..trying to draw out milk. You don't stop fucking Taeyeon's mouth as you shove as much as you could in there, watching it bulge.

"Holy fuck baby that's so hot, are you trying to get milk out of me baby," Yoona moans as she pets your hair like a child who is getting breastfed

"Fuck if only there was milk coming out right now!" You moaned in between sucking Yoona's tits

You had to figure out some spell for that or something…

"Oh, mommy…I'm going to cum…down your fucking throat…"

"GO on baby cum all down your mommy's throat," Yoona cooed you dumped all your cum down Taeyeon's throat

You pant and huff, pulling out and smiling.

"How does it taste Mommy? Your first taste of my cum? Your baby boy's cum?"

"It tastes amazing baby just as I expected it to but holy fuck don't you cum a lot. this is your second load and it is so much I wonder how thick the first load must have been," Taeyeon states,

"Oh the first load was massive and thick alright, his cum is still leaking out of my pussy and I am 100% sure that I am already pregnant with his baby," Yoona says

You pull Yoona in for another torrid kiss with your tongue.

"Your feet next…both of you…I need to taste them and fuck them…" You say with desire.

"aren't you an insatiable horny bastard, if that's what you want then your mommy's shall oblige," Taeyeon says

You growl.

"Oh? Calling your baby boy a bastard? How naughty of you, mommy!" You grab both of them and toss them on the bed. You lie down and have Taeyeon and Yoona sit near you by your cock. Taeyeon folds out her legs towards your face and you begin to lick at her toes and the underside of her feet.

Yoona meanwhile gives you a footjob.

"my baby boy is so naughty and always horny for his mommies isn't he?" Taeyeon questions as she enjoys you worshipping her feet

"I love your white nail polish Mommy…and Yoona's black…so sexy…your feet are so fucking good.."

Taeyeon's feet were so soft and you try to suck on all five toes from her foot at once.

"Aren't you a greedy boy wanting so much all at once, If I had known that you were a feet-loving boy then I would have gotten a pedicure before coming here," Taeyeon says before moaning

You suck on her toes harder.

"No, your toes are so good…so hot…I love them…please give me a double footjob mommies!"

"you are so impatient," Taeyeon says before using one of her feet to push your cock into Yoona's other foot. Both of you matching the rhythm together to jerk off your big hard throbbing cock

"HOLY FUCK MOMMIES.." You howl loudly as they worked together perfectly to stroke your cock off with their feet. The contrast of pedicure colors was amazing

"oh you are really enjoying this so much aren't you, my little perverted loser," Taeyeon teases you as she continues to play with your hard cock

"He loves it so much Unnie, he blew such a huge load when I gave him a footjob before," Yoona says

You pout. "Mommy…that wasn't nice…I'm just so attracted to you…"

"You don't have to lie baby I can feel your cock throb whenever I say things like that," Taeyeon says

"It turns me on when you want me, mommy…you're all mine right?"

"Yes baby I am all yours, both of us belong to you

I then flare up my pressure and jam my cock back into Taeyeon's tight cunt, growling as I use flash step and slam her into the wall and begin drilling into her gasp "Fuck!" Taeyeon moans out as you drill into her the sudden invasion of your cock stretching out her pussy a lot more than expected

"What was that mommy?" I growl as I hammer into her and then kiss her neck, biting at it a bit.

"It feels so fucking good baby, keep pounding Mommy like that use my hole however you want!" Taeyeon growls

"Remember you're my mommy…and my caretaker…I am your Master and baby boy…and you…I fucking own you…to fuck…and use as a whore!"

"Yes, you own me, fucking use me as your whore! make you your cum dump!" Taeyeon moans out pleasure completely taking over her brain

I kiss her with my tongue and speed up. The tightness of her cunt was immaculate..my whore mommy getting fucked by my cock was something else.

"Mommy…I want to drink your fucking milk…"

"Go on baby you can have how much ever you want!" Taeyeon allows you

"Unnie, What is he talking about?" Yoona asks confused about what milk you are asking Taeyeon for

I then lower my mouth to her right breast and swirl my tongue before latching on and sucking. I was finally drinking her milk…my mommy's milk…it was perfection.

"NGHH" Taeyeon moans, the pleasure getting too much for her. It felt like absolute heaven, she hadn't had something feel this good in such a long time

A little milk leaks out from the corner of your mouth and this surprises Yoona. So many questions popping into her head and you see her eyes lined with confusion. To distract her you push your fingers into Yoona's wet pussy and finger her as you continue to pound Taeyeon

"Mommy's milk…mommy's cunt…you're both mine…" you growl.

You were fucking Taeyeon so hard…your mommy…your whore…your bitch…was now truly yours.

Taeyeon's moans now sounded like screams absolutely tearing through thr roam and they were accompanied by Yoona who was also on the cusp of another orgasm

"I'm going to fucking cum mommy! Going to fucking cum so hard!" You roar.

"Go on baby cum inside your mommy, breed her just like you did me," Yoona encourages you and Taeyeon is just simply beyond the ability to speak right now

You were finally going to do it, you were going to breed your mommy Taeyeon…

"FUCK!" You slam your cock all the way inside her cunt and explode…cumming the hardest and longest you ever have…you weren't pulling out and waited minutes until you fully emptied, painting her walls white.

Taeyeon's mind was going absolutely haywire, completely taken over by pleasure. The cum was so warm and felt perfect inside of her. satisfying everything that she had ever wanted.

You then kiss Taeyeon with more tongue.

"Mommy…Yoona…on your knees both of you…fucking clean my cock…it's official now…you're both my whores to breed and restart my clan."

Without any replies, the both of them were on their knees, cleaning up your cock.

You hiss in pleasure as both their tongues and sweet lips worked your tip and they cleaned every bit of cum left. They shared it between them and you pressed their heads together to make out with your cock.

"I've been developing a kido spell…" You say before using the enchantment and a marking of the Uzumaki clan forms just above their cunt before disappearing.

"what is it supposed to do baby?" Yoona asks innocently.

Taeyeon is also curious and is just waiting to see what you answer

"This will make it so nobody else is allowed to fuck you…your body will only respond in pleasure to my touch alone."

"Oh someone is possessive!" Taeyeon and Yoona say at the same time

"Of course…my clan…my whores…I need to keep it all in line…now then…YoonA..I think you should move to the clan compound. We can use this place as a safe house."

"Oh am I finally being allowed to move into the Uzumaki's compound" Yoona questioned

"Yes you are, You belong to me now so you should stay where I can reach you any time I want," You reply

YoonA stands and kisses you lovingly.

"Good…it's settled then… let's head back. I have my first official day tomorrow so let's try and take it easy for the rest of the day."

"Yayyy!" Yoona cheers as she puts on her robe and begins to grab things that she will need.

The three of you get back and head back into bed. You were so happy having them on either side of you…you snuggle with Taeyeon and kiss her.

"I love you, mommy. You're mine."

"What about me?" Yoona whines as she hugs you

You kiss her too.

"And you too.." All three of you drift to sleep shortly after.

[laughingfcx]

3+1: THREE TIMES MEGUMI GIVES YOU SOMETHING, AND ONE TIME YOU RETURN THE FAVOUR.

megumi, water :: it's hot — thirty-five degrees, to be exact, and of course you've forgotten to bring water, and the only canteen nearby only takes cash, no change. in short: you're melting.

you're draped over a lunch table, cheek pressed against the cool (but rapidly warming) metal. oh, what you'd do for a drink right now—

suddenly, you can hear footsteps behind you, coming closer with each passing second.

hi, megumi. you can tell it's him without even looking.

hi yourself, he replies, slipping into the chair next to you. a small bottle of water is slid your way; he does not look at you, but the gesture speaks for itself.

thank you.

don't.

don't what?

don't thank me.

you've had this conversation a million times before.

just because we're best friends doesn't mean you have to—

i do it cause i want to, okay? he turns to you, annoyed. all you can think about is how pretty he is.

megumi, company :: frat parties are scary. you don't know why you're here; nobara and maki have already disappeared too. it's packed, sweaty, scary. you squeeze through the crowds to climb out of a window and escape the heat. you know you can't leave until you find your friends, though, so for now, sitting on the dewy grass in the backyard will have to suffice.

megumi was right, you think.

don't go, he'd said, sprawled out on your bed, arms around one of the plush animals on your bed. it's tucked under his chin, and he looks adorable.

why not? you'd asked him.

it's not worth it, he scoffed. couldn't pay me a billion yen to go.

you should've listened—

can i say i told you so?

megumi?

he ignores you; or are you gonna start crying? you definitely—

you launch yourself up from the ground into his arms, laughing. i thought you said you weren't gonna come!

i had a feeling this'd happen. the slightest hint of a smile graces his lips. couldn't leave my favourite alone now, could i?

what? say it again, i think i heard wrong.

his smile widens; he shakes his head.

megumi, power bank, his heart ? :: my phone's dying, you sigh.

no response.

my phone's dying, you repeat, louder.

say please. he's desperately fighting a losing battle, the corners of his lips twitching.

please, megumi, give me the power bank!

you snatch it greedily from his hands, connecting it to your phone.

no thanks?

thank you, megumi! you throw your arms around his neck suddenly, and he is glad that you cannot see the blush on his face.

megumi always carries power banks with him. it's a known fact by now; he always has one on him. meanwhile, your phone is always dying. what a coincidence!

or not.

because one day, you overhear him talking to yuji. you're not really listening, scrolling on your phone when you hear your own name.

it's only because of y/n that i need a backpack in the first place, megumi grumbles. otherwise, everything else fits on my pockets.

then don't? to yuji, the problem is easy to fix.

but they need it.

so?

megumi makes a grumbly noise in his throat; so cute, you think.

oh yeah, says yuji. i forgot you're horribly in love with them and everything you do is somehow connected to them.

oh.

they're here, by the way, he adds.

what? did they hear?

i don't know, yuji replies unhelpfully.

you barely manage to get your earphones in before they walk in.

you, flowers, chocolates, your heart ? :: today is the day. to say you're nervous is a huge understatement. your hands are shaking, palms sweaty, and you're shivering, even though it's not that cold. the flowers and chocolate wait patiently for you on your desk.

megumi, you say aloud to the empty room. megumi, i like you and—

fuck.

megumi, you begin again. i've liked you for a long time and—

who've you liked 'for a long time'? megumi looks mildly interested as he walks in. you always get kind of lonely around this time so i thought i'd come to hang out.

his voice is even, but you amidst the normal calm, you sense something controlled. like he's actually sad, or something.

no one!

yeah? he hums. i'm not buying it, but i won't push you.

fuck him! why does he always have to be this respectful? if he asked you, you wouldn't not have answered!

who gave you the flowers?

i bought them myself! you squeak.

he raises a brow at how high-pitched your voice is. for?

um.

you see the way he stiffens visibly, hand tightening around your doorknob. he swallows, and then, sorry for overstepping, y/n.

no!

what?

you're not overstepping, you tell him. you have every right to know. we're best friends, right?

... right, he responds, but there's something missing; he's clammed up, retracted into himself. his voice is forced into not showing any emotion, and he's backed away a little bit from you.

your heart breaks at the sight.

megumi, i like you!

you're shitting me, he replies.

no, really! also, i hope you don't mind, but a few weeks ago i heard yuji and you talking, and he said something, and—

stop talking, he murmurs. i want to kiss you.

megumi has never been greedy. be selfish, gojo's told him. he's never listened — he's had no reason to, after all. yet... right now, he understands. it's all he can think about — getting something he wants, getting it now.

when he makes his way back to you, all he can think of is how kissing you will feel. when he is kissing you, he realises that he wants this forever. so he lets himself be a little selfish, and tells you he loves you, and asks for the one thing he'd thought he'd never have — you.

new freaky writing style LOL only for this one though... also 3+1 because im lazy and sad and unmotivated. also grammatical errors highkey & im sorry.

[pedroscowgirl]

maybe i’m a bit desilusional but…

what abt fem, young!reader taking care of hugh jackman’s kids? and he being so stunned at how caring she is he just wants to bread her and fucks her in a rude way??

if u dont like this, just ignore it complately ♡

hugh jackman x fem!reader

warnings: smut! minors DNI breeding kink, creampie, p in v, age gap (reader is 20 ish and hugh is 55) wc: 3,4k

a/n: ugh yes i love daddy hugh and i'm sure he loves being a dad aswell and he just can't wait to make u a mother. (and yes im aware his kids are older now but lets just ignore that for this story) i hope u like this tho!

You had never expected babysitting to become such an integral part of your life, but when the opportunity arose to look after Hugh Jackman's children, you couldn’t turn it down. What started as a part-time gig quickly became something much more meaningful. His kids, with their curious eyes and endless energy, pulled you into their world with ease. You were young, fresh out of college, and ready to tackle whatever life threw your way, but you hadn’t anticipated how attached you’d grow to this family.

Today was one of those quiet afternoons where the house felt like a peaceful bubble. Hugh had been out filming all day, and you were in the living room with his youngest, a mess of paints and construction paper scattered on the floor. You were helping them create a hand-painted masterpiece, your fingers gently guiding theirs as they carefully brushed color onto the page.

“You’re doing so well!” you encourage, a soft laugh escaping your lips as the child beams up at you, proud of their work.

Unbeknownst to you, Hugh had arrived home. He stood in the doorway for a moment, watching in silence. The sight of you, so gentle, so patient, made something stir inside him. His children were the most important part of his life, and to see them so comfortable and happy in your presence was nothing short of remarkable. It was more than that, though. It was the way you smiled, the way you listened when they talked, as if every word they said mattered.

You hadn’t noticed Hugh yet, too focused on the child in front of you. The sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a soft glow across the room. The image was almost too perfect, and for a second, Hugh felt like an outsider looking in on something beautiful, something he hadn't realized he wanted.

Finally, you glanced up and caught his eye. You flashed him that warm, inviting smile, completely unaware of the effect it had on him.

“Hey, Hugh,” you greeted casually, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to see him standing there. “We’re making some masterpieces here. You want to join?”

He chuckled, his voice slightly deeper, though there was an unfamiliar warmth in his eyes. “I think I’ll leave the artistic side to you two. You’re really good with them.”

You shrugged, still smiling as you turned your attention back to the child beside you. “They make it easy,” you said, your voice soft but genuine.

But to Hugh, it was clear that wasn’t true. There was something special about the way you connected with his kids, and it went beyond just being "good" with them. You seemed to understand them in a way that made him feel like he was seeing his own family through new eyes.

As the evening unfolded, the kids eventually grew tired, their energy winding down after hours of play. You took your time, making sure they were comfortable, tucked into bed with their favorite stuffed animals by their side. Hugh watched from the doorway, his arms crossed as he leaned against the frame, an unreadable expression on his face. There was something undeniably attractive about the way you cared for them, how natural and effortless it seemed.

When you finally closed the door to the kids’ room, you turned and found him standing there, still watching you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. You weren’t sure why, but the air felt different. Charged.

“They’re out like lights,” you whispered with a soft laugh, breaking the silence, but Hugh didn’t respond immediately. He was looking at you in a way that made you feel suddenly self-conscious, but not uncomfortable. It was a quiet admiration, almost as if he were seeing you for the first time.

“You’re incredible with them,” he said after a beat, his voice low. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen them this happy. It’s like… you’re part of the family already.”

Your cheeks warmed at his words, and you smiled, a little unsure of how to respond. “I’ve really grown attached to them,” you admitted, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “They’re great kids.”

Hugh nodded, stepping a little closer. You could feel the weight of his gaze, his presence somehow more intense than it had ever been before. “I’ve noticed,” he said, his tone shifting to something more personal, more intimate. “You’re amazing with them, but… I’ve also noticed how kind and caring you are. It’s not just them you look after.”

You blinked, a little caught off guard by the compliment. “I just want to help,” you said softly, your eyes meeting his. There was something different in the way he looked at you now. Something deeper.

For a long moment, neither of you said anything. The house was quiet, save for the faint rustle of the wind outside. You were suddenly acutely aware of how close he was standing. His gaze softened, but there was a certain weight to it, like he was wrestling with something unspoken.

“Hugh?” you asked softly, feeling the tension in the air shift.

He seemed to snap out of whatever thought had held him captive, and he smiled, genuine, but with an edge of something more. “I’m just… grateful. For everything you’ve done. For being here.”

His words were laced with something deeper than gratitude, though. There was a sincerity that tugged at your heart, something that hinted at emotions he wasn’t sure how to express. You felt it too,this connection, the way he seemed to see you differently now.

“I love being here,” you said, your voice almost a whisper.

He took another step forward, close enough now that you could feel the warmth radiating from him. His eyes never left yours, searching, wondering. For a moment, it felt like the rest of the world disappeared, leaving just the two of you standing there in the quiet of the house.

“I think I’ve been blind to something,” Hugh finally admitted, his voice low and a little rough, like he was struggling to put his feelings into words. “You’ve become more than just someone who helps out around here. You’ve become… important.”

Your breath caught in your throat at his words, and the intensity in his gaze made your heart race. “Hugh, I—”

But before you could finish, he stepped even closer, his hand reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair behind your ear. His touch was soft, almost hesitant, but the tenderness in that small gesture sent shivers down your spine.

“I didn’t expect to feel this way,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper now. “But I can’t ignore it anymore.”

You looked up at him, your heart pounding in your chest. The look in his eyes told you everything you needed to know,he felt it too, this connection that had grown between you. It was more than just admiration for how you cared for his children. It was something deeper, something neither of you could deny anymore.

Hugh’s hand trembled slightly as it reached for your face, his fingers brushing against your skin with a softness that contrasted the fire in his eyes. His thumb traced the line of your jaw, lingering just below your ear as if savoring the sensation of touching you. Your breath hitched in your throat, heart hammering in your chest, and in that split second, you could see everything he was feeling—years of restraint and unspoken emotions flooding to the surface.

Before you could process it, he surged forward, closing the distance between you in a heartbeat. His lips crashed into yours with a hunger that left you breathless, the kiss urgent and all-consuming. There was no hesitation, no second-guessing—just pure, raw need. His hands tightened their hold on your face, thumbs gently stroking your cheeks as his mouth moved against yours, desperately seeking more.

You melted into him, your hands sliding up to grip his shirt as if anchoring yourself to the moment. His kiss was intense, filled with a yearning that had been simmering just beneath the surface for far too long. He tasted of warmth, of something familiar yet electrifying, and every brush of his lips sent waves of heat coursing through your body.

Hugh let out a low, primal sound from deep within his chest, a sound that only made the fire between you burn hotter. In one swift movement, his hands slid down to your waist, and without breaking the kiss, he lifted you off the ground as if you weighed nothing. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, your arms looping around his neck for support, and you could feel the strength of him beneath your fingertips—solid, unyielding, desperate.

With practiced ease, he carried you to the kitchen counter, the cold surface a sharp contrast to the heat radiating from both of your bodies. He set you down, his lips never leaving yours, his mouth moving with a hunger that made your head spin. His hands roamed your back, fingers gripping your hips, pulling you closer, as if the space between you was unbearable.

You were both lost in the moment, a whirlwind of passion and need. Clothing became an afterthought, your hands fumbling with buttons and zippers as you tried to remove the barriers that kept you from feeling every inch of him. His shirt was the first to go, discarded hastily onto the floor, followed by yours as he tore it from your body in a frenzied rush.

Hugh’s lips found yours again, more fevered now, as if he were a starving man and you were the only thing that could sate him. His kiss was desperate, full of longing, and his hands followed suit, exploring your body with a reverence that made your skin tingle. He was everywhere—his mouth on your neck, your collarbone, tasting the warmth of your skin as if memorizing every inch of you.

You gasped as his lips trailed lower, the sensation of his breath against your skin sending shivers down your spine. He kissed the sensitive spot just beneath your ear, his teeth grazing lightly as you arched into him. His hands fumbled with the button of your jeans, and in a hurried, clumsy motion, he pulled them down your legs. You helped him along, your body trembling with anticipation, until you were both stripped down to nothing, the cool air doing nothing to quench the heat between you.

His body pressed against yours, skin on skin, the sensation overwhelming as his hands explored every curve, every dip. His touch was insistent, possessive, but there was a tenderness beneath the intensity that made your heart flutter. Hugh pulled you impossibly closer, his lips returning to yours in a bruising kiss, his tongue sliding into your mouth with a slow, deliberate sweep that left you breathless.

He kissed you like he couldn’t get enough, like he needed to taste every inch of your mouth, his hands gripping your waist as if afraid you might disappear. You moaned into the kiss, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer still. The need between you was palpable, an electric charge that sparked with every touch, every kiss.

Hugh pulled back for a brief moment, his forehead resting against yours, both of you breathing heavily. His eyes, dark and full of desire, locked onto yours, searching for something—confirmation, permission, anything to let him know you wanted this just as much as he did.

“Are you sure?” he whispered, his voice hoarse, almost ragged from restraint.

You nodded, your lips swollen and tingling from his kisses. “Yes,” you breathed, and that was all he needed to hear.

With a low growl, he captured your lips again, his hands gripping your thighs as he pulled you flush against him. The kiss deepened, more desperate now, filled with the weight of all the emotions you both had kept hidden for so long. He kissed you like he was starving, like the feel of you was the only thing keeping him tethered to the earth.

His hands slid up your back, fingers tracing every curve, and then he was lifting you again, pulling you closer to the edge of the counter. His body pressed against yours, every inch of him firm and warm as he kissed you with a hunger that made your toes curl.

The air around you felt electric, charged with a desire neither of you could control. His mouth moved against yours with the same urgency that echoed through your veins, each kiss leaving you gasping for more. Hugh was relentless, his lips, his hands, his body, all of him, devouring you, like he had waited an eternity to finally taste you.

Hugh’s eyes darkened with desire as he lined himself up with your entrance, his breath coming out in short, ragged bursts. His hands gripped your hips firmly as he pushed into you with ease, your slick warmth welcoming him effortlessly. The deep, guttural groan that escaped his throat filled the air, sending shivers down your spine.

“Fuck…” His voice was low and husky, filled with raw need. “This is all for me?” he asked, his eyes locking onto yours with a mixture of admiration and lust.

You nodded, a soft hum of pleasure escaping your lips as your body adjusted to the sensation of him inside you. The fullness, the heat, it was overwhelming in the best possible way. Hugh’s gaze never wavered, his pupils blown wide as he watched your reaction, revelling in the way you responded to him.

“Such a naughty girl,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear as he began to move, his thrusts slow but deliberate, like he was savoring every moment. Each roll of his hips sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, your head falling back slightly as you let yourself melt into the feeling.

His breath was hot against your neck, and then his voice, low, dangerous sent a thrill straight to your core. “I’m gonna breed this fucking pussy so bad.”

The words were filthy, but the way he said them, the pure desire laced into every syllable, made your stomach flip with arousal. Your walls tightened instinctively around him, a sharp gasp leaving your lips at the thought of it, of him filling you up, marking you as his.

“Are you on birth control?” he asked, his voice rough and demanding.

You swallowed hard, trying to focus through the haze of pleasure that clouded your mind. “Uh-huh,” you managed to say, your breath hitching as he rocked deeper into you, “but I… I keep forgetting to take it. It probably doesn’t work anymore.”

“Good,” he growled, his voice dripping with satisfaction. The single word was laced with approval, his hips moving faster now, each thrust more insistent than the last. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with the heavy breaths and soft moans that escaped you both.

Hugh was relentless, his movements precise and unyielding. He could feel the way your body was responding to him, the way your walls clenched tighter with each thrust, your breath coming faster, your moans growing louder. You were close, so close, and he knew it. He could feel it in the way your body trembled, in the way you gripped onto the counter behind you for support.

But just as the pleasure began to crest, just as you were teetering on the edge, he stopped abruptly. The sudden emptiness made you whine, your body crying out for release.

“Sorry, babygirl,” he said, his voice thick with desire. “I need to fuck you from behind.”

Before you could respond, he lifted you off the counter with ease, turning you around so your back was facing him. His strong hands guided you, pressing your chest down onto the cold surface of the counter, your legs spread wide and trembling with anticipation.

Without warning, he entered you again, burying himself to the hilt in one swift, powerful thrust and slapped your ass. You gasped, your body arching back instinctively at the sudden intrusion. His hands gripped your hips tightly, holding you in place as he began to move with an intensity that left you breathless. Each thrust was deep, hard, and unrelenting, his body slamming into yours with a force that made you see stars.

Hugh’s grip tightened as he pulled you back onto him, his pace quickening as he lost himself in the pleasure. “Fuck,” he groaned, his voice thick and desperate. “You’d be such a great mom… I can’t wait to see you pregnant, to watch your tits swell with my baby. You're such a slut for me”

His words sent a shock of arousal through you, your mind reeling at the thought of it. The idea of being filled by him, of carrying his child, was driving you crazy, and your body responded in kind, your walls tightening around him, milking him for everything he had.

“And the nasty looks on everyone’s faces,” he continued, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous whisper, “when they see us walking around together, hand in hand. Such a young thing getting fucked by an old man like me. You like that huh?"

The filthy words, the possessiveness in his voice, it was too much. Your body trembled beneath him, the coil in your stomach winding tighter and tighter as you neared the edge once again. He could feel it, too, the way your walls clenched around him, the way your breath hitched in your throat.

“Yes… good girl,” he growled, his hand sliding up your back to tangle in your hair. “Turn your head for me.”

You did as he commanded, turning your head just enough for his lips to crash into yours. The kiss was messy, desperate, your tongues tangling together as you both chased the release that was so close, so inevitable. His pace quickened, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he lost control, the pleasure too overwhelming to hold back any longer.

You moaned into his mouth as your body finally gave in, your walls clenching around him in a violent wave of pleasure. Your legs shook, your body trembling as your orgasm washed over you, and Hugh followed close behind, his hips stuttering as he emptied himself inside you with a guttural groan.

The kiss muffled both of your moans as you came undone together, the intensity of the moment leaving you both breathless. When he finally pulled away, you were spent, your body trembling, your legs barely able to hold you up. His hands were still on your hips, holding you steady as he leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder.

But before you could fully catch your breath, Hugh stepped back, his eyes darkening once again as he watched his cum begin to drip out of you, a low growl rumbling in his chest.

“Fuck, I can’t let that go to waste,” he muttered.

Without warning, he slid two fingers inside you, pushing his cum back in with a slow, deliberate motion. You gasped at the sensation, your overstimulated body trembling beneath his touch. His fingers moved with precision, curling inside you as he held your hips in place, ensuring that every drop stayed where it belonged.

Satisfied, he quickly reached for your panties, pulling them back up over your hips to keep his seed inside you. The feeling of the fabric pressing against your sensitive skin sent a shiver down your spine, the intimacy of the gesture making your heart race.

“There we go, babygirl,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear as he wrapped his arms around you from behind. “Gotta keep it all in, just in case.”

You nodded, too breathless to speak, your body still trembling from the intensity of what had just happened. Hugh’s arms tightened around you, pulling you close as he pressed a soft, lingering kiss to the back of your neck, his breath warm against your skin.

The two of you stayed like that for a moment, wrapped in each other’s warmth.. Your legs were still shaking, your body still buzzing with the aftershocks of pleasure.

“I meant what I said,” Hugh murmured against your skin, his voice low and serious. “I can’t wait to see you pregnant.”

His words made your heart skip a beat, the weight of them settling in your chest as you turned your head to look at him, your eyes meeting his. There was no hesitation, no uncertainty in his gaze—just pure, unfiltered desire.

And in that moment, you knew he meant every word.

taglist (dm if u wanna be added): @ermlady @elloredef @haytchee @melaninjoys @megangovier @blue2jay @hearts4suri @narniabusinessbitch @jadenlyday25 @getmeoutofhell @rockytheluver @stark-ironman @shellbilee @kurcoswife @ru-kru @corvusmorte

[jjk4isen]

early relationship with out of this world gorgeous man suguru and you're still stuttering when he stares at you longer than three seconds, yes you counted.

you still have no idea how you managed to garner his interest. him going from a small tiny crush to being your boyfriend? you had to pat yourself on the back.

so that's why you're extremely nervous and rambling about some lines in the movie you're currently watching with him, bodies tangled together. your hands are a little shaky, and maybe a little sweaty, from holding his and your heart is beating so loudly you pray he doesn't hear it.

as for suguru? he just stares at you no— admires you with a lazy grin. it's clear how nervous he makes you feel and he thinks it's endearing.

and as much as he's fond of listening to you rant about something completely irrelevant, he just couldn't help but steal a few glances at your lips. he knows you noticed too because your babbles were now a frenzy of stutters and the faint pink on your cheeks turn red, spreading through your face and all the way to your ears.

"so what happens after that was-" your words halt as you gulp and blink furiously, looking at anywhere but his face.

suguru only chuckles and shifts his body closer towards you "yeah? what happens after that?" he leans in teasingly.

"actually... i don't know" you smile to yourself, finding humour with it all and you turn, bravely too.

taking his chance, suguru closes the small distance separating you both and lands his lips onto your own. at first you freeze but then he feels you relax and melt into the kiss.

he slowly brings his hands to cup your cheeks, slowly caressing it as he gently tugs your lower lip with his teeth upon pulling away.

your forehead connects and suguru smiles fondly "you have no idea how long i waited for this" he practically purrs and your heart, for the hundredth time today, threatens to burst.

"me too" was all you could mutter out meekly.

suguru lets out a faint laugh "yeah?"

"yeah"

that was all the confirmation he needed when he leaned in to kiss you again, so much more passionate this time.

[freakyformula]

Getaway

Summary: Reader is stressed out about school and Oscar helps her relax by inviting her to Silverstone.

Writers comment: Not proofread nor actually thought through I'm sorry in advance.

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, fingering, oral (both receiving), safe sex.

Word count: 1,6k

You felt the autumn breeze against your skin as you walked home along the grey UK streets. All you wanted was to drift off to sleep and skip the rest of the day. But then, you realize that you have a school assignment that you have to finish, the deadline is today.

”Fuck…” you mutter to yourself.

Your attention is turned to your phone as it starts to vibrate. You light up when you see Oscar, your boyfriend's name on the screen.

”Hi Osc.”

”Uh oh, someone’s not happy…” He knows you like the back of his hand.

"Yeah well I've got so much homework and all I want is to relax." You complain.

The whole way home, you and Oscar talk, and as always, he cheers you up and when you open the door to your apartment your energy levels are restored again. Oscar had that effect on you.

OSCAR POV

Oscar sits at Silverstone and the McLaren hospitality as Lando walks up and sits down next to him, having listened in to the conversation Oscar and his girlfriend just had.

"Is she okay?" Lando asks with a tinge of concern as Oscar frown when you end the call.

"Yeah… She's just tired." Oscar smiles back at his teammate.

"Mate, make her happy and invite her here! No, demand she comes here, for her own good. I think she needs some time away." Lando exclaims.

"Yeah Lando, you're probably right. How do I convince her though?"

"Tell her you'll win if she comes." Lando quickly comments.

That night, you facetime each other as usual, and that is when his plan gets put into action.

"Hey, babe?" Oscar calls, "I've booked plane tickets for you for tomorrow, you're coming to watch me race. You better start packing your bags."

"You did what?!" She panics.

"You heard me."

"Ugh, Oscar, I don't have time! I've got so much stuff to do." She mutters under her breath but Oscar has no trouble hearing what she said.

"Y/N, you're literally finishing up on that assignment as we speak and there's no deadlines coming up in weeks. I'm sure you can make time for me, it's only a couple of days." Oscar comments.

"…I hate and love you so much, Oscar Piastri." She smiles at him with tears threatening to run down her cheeks.

And just like that school was out of her mind. She was focused on the race weekend and got busy packing outfits and showed them off to Oscar, giving him a tease of what was to come.

Saturday went well, and the two McLarens ending up at the front for tomorrow's race.

At the hotel, Oscar is sitting on the bed, nervously waiting for her to arrive. When his phone pings, letting him know that she's on her way to the hotel, he runs down to the lobby to welcome her.

"Welcome to Silverstone, my love!" Oscar hugs her tightly.

"Hi Osc, I'm so happy to see you."

"Shall we?" He says as he leads her into the elevator.

The vibe is instantly there, and he can't seem to tear his eyes and hands off her when they step out of the elevator, finding their way to the room.

Oscar walks behind her and holds her close, pressing his hardening member against her back. The height difference was notable like this, Oscar was considerably taller than her.

Her clear annoyance with the key card not working tells him that she wants this too.

When it finally opens, he pushes her inside, closes the door behind him and throws her bags to the side.

He walks closer, their lips almost touching. He creeps down to her jeans and unbuttons them.

"Eager, are we?" She asks him.

"You can't blame me, I've got the world's most beautiful girl in front of me."

She chuckles at his comment, and looks up at him amused.

Y/N POV

The feeling of him against you felt like heaven, and you grew more needy by the second. You needed him right now.

You slide your hands under his tee and study his strong torso with your fingertips. Slowly, you grow more courageous and move your hands further up, until Oscar takes the hint and gets rid of his shirt while he is busy kissing you. He starts at your cheek, working down your neck and crouching down to attack your chest.

His treatment makes you let out a small moan, making him giggle.

"You're so pathetic, my sweet girl. A little kissing and you're already moaning like a good little whore."

Hearing his degrading words makes you look away, embarrassed.

Oscar doesn't like that and grabs your hair to turn you back to look him in the eyes.

"You're my good girl, are you not?" He asks as he leads you into the bedroom.

"I'm your good girl." You confirm.

"Then kneel and suck."

You gulp and do as he says, unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his shorts while you look at him. He grabs your hair and fixes it into a makeshift ponytail as he pushes your face against his already rock-hard cock.

Desperate to be good to him, you open your mouth and stick your tongue out for him.

"Oh my lord... Ready?" He checks in.

You nod and bend forward and take a taste of his tip. You slowly go deeper with each bob of your head, making Oscar moan. You can feel his thighs shaking from your treatment as you steady yourself on them with your hands.

He must have been too carried away because when he starts pumping into the back of your throat, you begin to gag and the tears start to stream down your cheeks. He quickly pulls you off, apologizing immensely, not wanting to make you uncomfortable.

Helping you up from your knees, he grabs you under the ass and carries you to the bed, throwing you onto the sheets. He quickly follows and lands next to you and starts by pulling your oversized hoodie off and then moving on with the jeans. Much to his surprise, you didn't wear a bra under the hoodie. The two peaks were looking at him invitingly and he gladly accepts, moving down to suck and massage them, moving from one to another.

You're a moaning mess at this point, bucking you hips up towards him. You deem Oscar too slow and grab the lining to your string panties, starting to pull them down when he grabs your hands.

"Let me do it, love." He states as he pulls them down, looking at the creation before him, in complete awe.

He leans down and kisses your red and tender lips, sucking them even more raw.

You let out a disappointed groan as he parts the kiss but quickly lighten up as he moves down to your aching pussy. He parts your drenched lips with his fingers and tastes you, letting out a desperate moan. He can't stop himself, and dives in, completely destroying you.

You're practically screaming at this point, and as you realise how loud you are, you try to silence yourself but quickly fail when he nibbles at your puffy clit, making you yelp.

He starts to tease your entrance with his middle finger, circling around it and collecting the wetness.

Slowly, he slides it in, making you moan loudly again.

"Jesus, my love, you're so wet and tight for me.", his words make you moan even louder.

Then, another finger.

When he starts pumping and ravaging your pussy with his mouth, you can't hold back and let out a desperate scream.

"Schhhh… It's okay, Y/N. Are you gonna cum for me?"

The only answer you can manage to get out of your lungs is a quick "nghyeah" which only spurs Oscar on.

He pumps even harder and his tongue is probably exhausted from the pleasuring.

When you feel your orgasm wash over you, you stop breathing. Your whole body freezes, making you see white. Grabbing anything you can, which happens to be a pillow and Oscar's hair, you scream out and catch up on your breath as you come down from your high.

"Do you think you can take me now?" He asks with a smirk on his stupidly adorable face.

You nod and he quickly grabs a condom and you help him put it on.

You pick your legs up and he hovers over you, admiring your dripping heat again before he takes you.

He lines up with your pulsing entrance and reads your face when his large member intrudes you. The stretch is painful at first but soon subsides and all you can feel is pure fucking pleasure. He starts out slow but picks up the pace quickly, destroying your pussy.

Usually when having sex with Oscar, it wasn't just you two fucking, but rather you two making love and doing something special to each other. Looking after one another, one could say.

Oscar didn't like the term "love makers" but that's what people probably would brand you as.

This time though, things felt different. Things were more intense, and the pace was quicker. Why, you didn't know, but you assumed it was because of you being apart for a couple of weeks.

"Are you gonna cum once more?" He breathes out.

"Yeaaaah…" You yell lazily, and with that, you cum again, and Oscar soon following, being a yelling and cursing mess. As you realise how pathetic you both sound, you burst out into laughter.

"What?!" Oscar asks.

"We sound like a pair of horny teenagers!" You laugh hysterically.

"Well… We kind of are."

"Very true." You comment.

"So anyway… Round two?"

[starogeorgina]

𝐌𝐚𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬

Paring: Jacaerys Targaryen x reader

Warnings: Swearing, smut

1.02

Your fingers grip the loose fabric of your shift that was bunched up to your stomach while desperately biting down on your lip to stop any unwanted noises from slipping out.

Jacaerys had returned to his own quarters before you woke, but he came back while you were breaking fast alone in your bedchamber. He offered to teach you the basics of sword fighting later in the day, which you found exciting because you’d never held a sword before. Being a woman, you were expected to remain a spectator, but the prince was more than happy to help you learn.

You meant to give him a simple kiss on the cheek to thank him, but it quickly became heated.

“Oh.”

You slide down the chair ever so slightly as Jacaerys tightens his grip around your legs, his fingernails lightly grazing the flesh of your thighs. He was rubbing circles on your clit again to bring you pleasure as he did the night before, except now he was using his tongue.

“Princess!” Elinda gasps, her voice filled with surprise and embarrassment. “Prince Jacaerys. What are you doing?!”

Jace falls back on his heels, cheeks flushed red. He remains frozen for a few seconds, then gets to his feet. The prince was at a loss for words; what could either of you say?

Elinda keeps her head low. “The queen has sent someone to the training yard to inform you to go join the queen's council immediately, my prince.”

You swallow thickly as Jace leaves the room. Elinda closes the door behind him and, without saying anything else about what she just witnessed, goes over to the bed where you have multiple dresses laid out. “Have you chosen one to wear today?”

“The crimson one.” Your fingers tangle together. “Forgive me, I... I’m sorry for what you just saw.”

“Once you're dressed, you are to join the Queen's Council princess.”

Elinda was known for her gentleness and would have been shocked by what she just witnessed, but there was a sadness in her eyes that you didn’t understand. “Why is the meeting urgent? Has something happened?”

—

You stand in the chamber of the painted table, listening to various knights and lords as they inform Rhaenyra of the heinous acts committed against your sister and her children the night before. With the little information Elinda shared with you, you had expected to be told ill news, but nothing could have prepared you to learn of blood and cheese. At first, you hadn’t reacted, but anger was now bubbling inside you.

“But it's a lie,” Rhaenyra says, defending herself against the accusations she was behind the assassination. “Having lost my own son, that I would inflict such a thing on Helaena, of all people, an innocent.”

“The death of Prince Lucerys was a shock and an insult,” Ser Alfred, one of the men on the queen’s council, says. “A mother so aggrieved might, naturally, seek relief in retribution. I merely thought an action taken in haste may have led to the death of the child.”

“Jaehaerys.”

Ser Alfred shifts angrily where he stands. “What?”

“That is the third time you have referred to my nephew as ‘the child;’ his name is Jaehaerys,” you say, glaring at him. “The queen has already said she wasn’t behind this, and to even suggest she would order the decapitation of her own kin is dangerously close to treason.”

Rhaenyra avoids making eye contact with anyone, saying, “I do not know who would order such a thing.”

Daemon, who had remained stone-faced while everyone else was horrified, starts to smirk when Princess Rhaenys shoots him a look, and it suddenly dawns on you that he was behind this. Rhaenyra notices this as well and orders everyone to leave.

You go to walk towards Jace, who was waiting on you by the doorway, but your queen calls you back, “A moment y/n.”

“Your grace.”

Daemon remains seated with a smug look on his face while Rhaenyra gives you an apologetic look. “I truly hope you believe I had naught to do with what happened to Helaena and Jaehaerys.”

“I do not think of you as cruel, my queen.”

“There is another important matter we need to discuss,” she says in a more authoritative tone.

Oh gods, she knows what Elinda saw.

Rhaenyra toys with the rings on her slender fingers, obviously uncomfortable. “It’s regarding Midnight.”

“What of my dragon?”

Rhaenyra opens her mouth, but Daemon speaks before her. “Will you fight for your queen and burn the usurper cunts when the time comes?”

“I would fight for my queen, for Prince Jacaerys, but I would not fight for you, uncle.”

He chuckles, “You speak of Ser Alfred’s treason, yet you are openly saying you’ll not fight for your king.”

“Why should I do anything for the king consort, who is so weak that he has a child struck down?”

“Sister,” Rhaenyra’s tone wasn’t authoritative like a queen’s, but more like a mother warning her child to start behaving.

“It was a mistake. I paid them to bring me the head of Aemond Targaryen.”

Tears glisten in your eyes. Daemon smiles at you; he didn’t even seem remorseful for what he had done. In that moment, you wanted to make him hurt and make him suffer for what he had done. Your fingers curl around the edges of the table as you stand across from him; you know what threads to pull. “I was the closest to my father in his final years; I’d read out loud from his favorite history books while he was abed, and when lucid, he’d tell me stories of his youth. Of your parents, of Balerion. He’d always speak so highly of Rhaenyra and Queen Aemma, but with you it was different. He never forgave you.”

“Forgive me?”

“He never forgave you for making a mockery of his wife’s death.”

“You girl, speak nothing but lies.”

“Was the heir for the day comment made in jest?”

Daemon slams his fist against the table and abruptly knocks his chair backwards, causing it to land on the ground. Startling Rhaenyra, her kingsguard hands move to the hilts of their swords. He storms towards you and attempts to intimidate you by towering over you, but you don’t flinch. “Do not speak of things that happened before your whore of mother even married my brother.”

“Daemon!”

He glances at Rhaenyra, then back at you, “I have always protected my family.”

You laugh in his face. “You had to pay someone to kill a defenseless six-year-old boy because you weren’t man enough to go after my brother yourself.”

“I’ll have your tongue cut from your mouth and you thrown into a cell till the end of this war.”

Shaking your head, you walk away from him, “You’re pathetic.”

—

Your finger traces over the spine of the book in your hand. This version was older than the copy you had in the red keep; it was a favorite of yours. Without looking back, you ask, “How long do you intend to stand in the doorway?”

“What’s the story about?”

“It’s a fairytale; I used to read it to Jaehaerys and Jaehaera. A princess is taken prisoner, but the daring prince swoops in on his dragon and saves her, but it seems foolish now.” You hold the book closer to your chest, trying to hold back from crying. “I let them believe our dragons keep us safe.”

“I think it's better that way,” he says. “Keeps them innocent for longer.”

“I spoke out of turn during your mother's council.”

“Ser Alfred needed to be reminded of his place.” Jace sits on the edge of your bed, facing you. “I know the feeling of wanting to lash out while grieving those we’ve lost.”

“I don’t understand why he thought it was okay to question your mother like that.”

“To put it plainly, men get stupid when a woman has authority over them.”

“You don’t.”

“No, but my queen is my mother,” he smiles. Seeking comfort, he holds onto the side of your skirt in a non-sexual manner. “I admire your spirit; it pleases me to know you will defend her when needed. I spoke with my mother before I came here; Daemon has gone to Harrenhal.”

You suspect they discussed more than what happened in the council chamber, and that was why there was a guard waiting at the bedchamber door, which had remained open.

“A dragon should know when to show its teeth.” Sighing, you toss the book down onto the bed and take Jace’s hand. “I will apologize to the queen; I shouldn’t have let my emotions get the better of me.”

[reidsbabyhoney]

hi love!

saw that you write for hozier, and was wondering if you could write something fluffy. maybe since the tour is ending soon, maybe him coming home for the first time in a while?

xx

in which andrew is finally back from tour and you couldn't be happier.

pairing: hoizer x fem!reader category: fluff cw: tiniest bit of angst if you squint. he walks out in a towel and reader has some interesting thoughts. no use of y/n. wc: 1.3k a/n: thank you so much for requesting! this was so much fun to write, I was listening to 'unknown' when this request came in so it is very lightly inspired by that. and by very lightly I mean I took inspiration from the line 'you know the distance never made a difference to me'. this is my first time writing in a while so please be kind. lots of love!! (also he looks so cute in this picture, I can't get over it.)

You were basically buzzing with anticipation. Having to stay in Wicklow for work had its up and downs. One of the most notable downs was that when Andrew went away for tour, there were long gaps you would go without seeing each other.

You had seen him two months ago when he had the smallest break from tour, and you called almost every night updating each other on your days. Usually, you'd fell asleep on the phone due to the time difference, but he had the habit of carrying his phone with your sleeping face covering the screen until you woke up. Recalling the time you woke up when he was in the middle of a concert, his phone being propped up on a stand off to the side of the stage.

But today Andrew was finally coming home. No more music festivals to perform at, no more concerts to hold, no more award shows to attend. He would finally be all yours.

You felt a bit guilty, knowing how much he loved performing and seeing his fans, but you were counting down the seconds until he walked through the door of your shared home.

The clock was inching closer to 6pm, which was the time Andrew said he would be home. Never being someone who had patience for much, you were sat outside on the porch swing you insisted he install a few years ago.

Finally a black car pulled into the driveway and Andrew stepped out. Sprinting to him like there was an Olympic medal to be won at the end of your journey you jumped into his arms once you reach him.

"Missed you so much love." he says into your hair as he holds you up, making sure you don't fall from his tight grip around your waist.

"Oh, I'm so glad you're finally home." you say as hugging him tightly as if he would disappear from your hold.

Letting go, you get good look at him and see his hair seemed to grow a bit longer in the two months you were apart. Though, he also seemed to have given up on the routine you've tried to have him stick to since you started dating.

"You're hairs grown." you say admiring how beautiful he looks, but that might just because your boyfriend is a 6'6 Irish man that looks like he came from the woodlands of a fairy tale.

"Hm, you like it?" he questions looking into your eyes for a second before putting you down onto solid ground.

"I love it." With that, you make your way up the steps of the house, one of his lighter bags in hand.

Andrew follows close behind you into the house, not missing how every inch spotless and nearly reflective.

Andrew knew you well, too well sometimes. He knew that you got anxious when he was away, and that made him feel both relieved and guilty. Relieved because he was finally home and could hold you in his arms. Guilty because he was away for so long.

Sneaking up behind you, he rests his head on your shoulder as he wraps his arm around you.

"Y'know I'm home for good right. Got my studio right here and the label already knows I won't release a new album for a few years. I'm all yours angel."

At his words you melt into him. "I know, but you know how I get when you're away. Especially when you're flying. Was just worried is all."

He plants a soft kiss at the top of your head at your response. Turning around in his arms you look up at him and see how tired he really is.

"Y'know I love you with my whole heart, but you really should get in the shower so we can eat."

He lets out a playful huff, releasing you from his grip. Turning to make his way upstairs you pull out the ingredients to make a simple pasta dish. Something you know will be filling for you both.

You're nearly done with dinner, the sauce being the only thing that needs to be seasoned and you realized Andrew still hasn't come from your bedroom. He isn't one to take long in the shower so you begin to worry. Quickly throwing in the final seasoning of oregano and thyme into the sauce, you lower the heat on both burners being used, and make your way up the stairs to look for your boyfriend.

Stepping into your shared bedroom, your met with a cloud of mist as the connecting door to the bathroom opens. Seeing your boyfriend walk out in nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist made your two months of celibacy very known throughout your body.

"I see some drool slipping past your lips love, best wipe it away before whoever it is you're lusting after knows." he teases lightly, before he walks to the dresser to grab some clothes to change into.

Shaking the thoughts out of your head as an embarrassed blush grows over your face, you clear your throat quickly as a recovery.

"The foods done downstairs whenever you're ready?" It comes out as more a question than a statement, still flustered over your boyfriends appearance.

Andrew turns his head slightly and gives you a knowing smirk, "I'll be down right after I change."

With that you leave him to change a quickly make your way downstairs.

Still a bit flushed once you get to the kitchen, you make a plate for each of you, putting them down in your designated spots at the dining room table, sitting next to each other.

You hear Andrew before you see him, softly humming the tune of ‘Unknown/Nth’.

Taking a seat next to you, he rests his hand on your thigh before digging into the food.

Acting like a man starved, he basically inhales his food before you've even finished half of yours.

"Do they not feed you properly in America or what." you ask, eyes basically popping out of your head, surprised he's already finished his plate

"Nothing could beat a home cooked meal of yours." he says giving you a brief kiss on the cheek before getting up to rinse his dish.

Finishing your own plate, you walk over to the sink where Andrew stands.

"Leave your plate angel. I'll clean the kitchen, you can go get ready for bed. Know your tired." he says as a yawn slips from his mouth.

Going up on your tiptoes, you leave a sloppy kiss on his cheek with a smile and head towards the bathroom to take a quick shower.

Nearly falling asleep while rinsing out your hair, you quickly wash your body and finish your shower. Stepping out, you cover yourself in a towel before opening the door to grab some pajamas to wear. Pajamas that consist of one of Andrew's shirts and a pair of sleep shorts.

Climbing into bed you wait for Andrew to come up to bed.

Closing your eyes for what you think is just a second, your woken up when he crawls into bed, obviously trying not to disturb you and failing.

"Sorry love, was just coming to sleep."

Rolling over so you were facing him, you wait for him to get comfortable in the bed before crawling into his arms. If you could crawl into his skin that's what you would be doing right now.

"Missed you so much, 'm so glad your finally home."

Releasing a small breath, he brings you closer to him, -if that was even physically possible- and plants another kiss on your forehead. "Me too, angel, me too. Next time I'm dragging you on tour with me."

With a small laugh, you let your body rest against his and sleep consumes you.

Feeling the exhaustion finally hit him, Andrew gets a good night's rest for the first time in what felt like years. His love in his arms. He's sure that not even oceans away preforming in arenas he would dream of selling out as a child, could beat the feeling of having you fast asleep in his arms.

—————————

all notes and reposts are appreciated!! loving you always xx

[captain-hawks]

SOMEDAY WAS ALWAYS JUST RIGHT HERE.

hajime iwaizumi x f!reader

wc: 3.4k tags: 18+ only, friends to lovers, pining, feels, smut, grinding, fingering, unprotected p in v, praise kink, protective iwa -> requested

“I hate this place,” Iwaizumi grumbles when your group slows to a stop on the sidewalk, the neon purple sign above the entrance of the club washing his face in a vivid hue that only serves to further highlight his displeasure.

“Well, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa elbows him in the ribs, “when it’s your birthday, we’ll all stand in a room looking annoyed with our arms crossed watching paint dry or something.” 

He pats him on the shoulder before striding ahead, following Makki and Mattsun inside. 

It’s been almost six months since the five of you have all gotten together, thanks to the demands of full-time jobs in different cities. 

You missed this. 

You missed them. 

Iwaizumi turns to you, like you’ll be his saving grace with some off-the-cuff excuse to get the hell out of Dodge before the other three notice you’re gone. 

(But you missed him the most, this you know for certain.)

“Oh no,” you tell him. “I spent too much time getting ready to bail now.”

(Though the idea of fucking off with Iwa to some dimly-lit diner with sticky, decades-old menus and watered down soda like you used to when you were teenagers is wholly tempting—)

He sighs but follows you in all the same, albeit the slightly begrudging drag of his feet as he mutters, “I feel like I should have started drinking before we got here.”

Truth be told, if it wasn’t Makki’s birthday, you also wouldn’t really want to spend your only night in town here of all places. But without much of a choice in the matter, and with Oikawa’s none-too-subtle encouragement regarding a certain something last week, you’ve decided to make the most of it—although you’re still not going to get your hopes up. 

—

Oikawa: sooo Oikawa: you said you were going shopping today for something to wear this weekend Oikawa: did you find anything

>>>: [image sent] >>>: Pick a color. I’ve been to ten stores. I’m over it.

Oikawa: well i’m partial to blue  Oikawa: but iwa-chan will loooove the black dress ;)

>>>: TOORU

Oikawa: :)

>>>: You swore yourself to secrecy >>>: Please don’t say anything

Oikawa: i’m just saying Oikawa: maybe show him what he’s been missing out on~ Oikawa: absence makes the dick grow harder!

>>>: I’m blocking your number

—

You’ve been friends with the boys since your days at Aoba Johsai, and you’ve maintained an impressively solid track record at keeping your feelings for Iwaizumi buried under lock and key for just as long. 

That is—until you made the horrid mistake of drunkenly bemoaning your unrequited pining to Oikawa last time you saw them all for a reunion party at Mattsun’s place. A party which happened to include Iwaizumi’s on-again off-again girlfriend. 

(They’re now very much off, permanently. As of the last two months, intel courtesy of the nosey brunette who has now decided to make your mockery of a love life his latest charity case.)

Now, Oikawa falls into step beside you, Iwaizumi shooting him a suspicious glance before he shoos him off toward where Makki and Mattsun are already leaning over the bartop to order drinks. 

“I told you black was the way to go,” Oikawa murmurs under his breath in a singsong voice, appraising your outfit with a satisfied smirk. 

“And I still don’t think dressing nice is suddenly going to make him decide he’s in love with me,” you whisper back in annoyance.

“First of all, he’s been in love with you since high school. Second, he hasn’t stopped looking at you since we picked you up.”

You blink at him several times, chest swelling with warmth and dumbfounded confusion, but any chance of a retort dies on your lips when Iwaizumi returns to your side. 

“You said you didn’t wanna drink tonight, right?” he asks, holding up a glass of what appears to be soda. 

He’s always had a habit of listening to you. 

Oikawa looks infuriatingly smug when he throws a glance back at you from behind him, wiggling his eyebrows for emphasis. 

“Thanks,” you smile, fingertips incidentally brushing against his when he hands you the cup.

He nods, something soft flickering across his face for a brief moment, though it disappears when Oikawa starts shouting your names from afar like a scorned lover. 

You try not to overthink the way his hand gently hovers against your lower back when the two of you make your way through the throng of people to find the table your friends have claimed, or the way his thigh briefly presses up against yours when you slide into the booth.

–

“This feels counterproductive,” you yell over the music to Oikawa as he drags you out onto the dance floor twenty minutes later, a few paces behind a very loud and equally inebriated Makki. Mattsun’s off getting more drinks. “Iwa will die before he comes over here.”

Oikawa’s hands hover over your hips, though there’s nothing suggestive about the touch as he casually urges you to follow the rhythm he’s already moving to. “You really have no idea, do you?”

You huff in annoyance, letting your limbs loosen up as you sway. “He’s not into me, Tooru. I don’t know what you think you’ve been seeing, but you’re wrong.”

He looks like he wants to argue, but Makki sidles up beside you with a flushed face and a pair of heart-shaped sunglasses on his head that he definitely didn’t walk in with, hands grabbing both of your arms as he pulls you deeper into the crowd. 

A tall man eventually edges his way between where you’re dancing beside Oikawa, an uninvited hand falling against your hip as he leans into your space and says loud enough for you to hear over the music, “That dress looks gorgeous on you, but it would look even better on the floor.”

You blink at him, body cringing with discomfort at the sleazy look on his face and the way his hand has begun to slip lower toward your backside. While you’re not opposed to dancing with strangers to get your mind off of the man who’s probably still sullenly scrolling through his phone at the table, something about this guy’s presumptuous touch sends you reeling with discomfort. 

Intending to catch Oikawa or Makki’s attention, you quickly turn, only to bump right into Iwaizumi.

His jaw is firmly set, eyes brimming with something dark as he pulls you against him, and the knot of anxiety in your chest immediately loosens at the feeling of his body heat sinking into yours.

“You good?” he asks quietly.

You nod, unconsciously pressing even closer to him, and he tightens the arm that’s wrapped around you a fraction. 

“What the hell, man?” The guy glares at Iwaizumi, like he’s ruined his chances with you. 

“You wanna dance with this guy?” The question is a warm huff of air against the shell of your ear. 

“Absolutely not,” you tell him, eyeing the creep warily.

“She’s not interested, man,” Iwaizumi replies. 

“What, you her boyfriend or something?” The guy sneers, clearly attempting to save face now. “Wouldn’t have known any better with all the guys she’s over here dancing with.”

Iwaizumi shifts forward, fist clenched. “What the fu—“

“Oooookay, time to fuck off now!” Oikawa interrupts, smoothly stepping in between the two men. 

The man looks like he wants to argue more, but Matsukawa moves to stand next to Oikawa, arms crossed, and it quickly becomes a moot point as he sulks off in defeat. 

Iwaizumi lets you go, though his shoulder remains pressed against yours. 

“Iwa-chan, how nice of you to join us,” Oikawa coos, ruffling his hair for good measure. 

Iwaizumi slaps his hand away, glaring. “Well since none of you know how to spot creeps before they become a problem.”

Oikawa offers him a patronizing smile, “We’re not all equipped to be the definition of scary dog privilege like you are.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Iwaizumi grumbles something under his breath before putting his arm around your shoulder and steering you away from the other three. 

“Thanks, Hajime, but I do still want to dan—“

“I know,” he replies, coming to a stop and turning you to face him. 

“So what are you—”

Your words die a spectacular death at the shallow bridge between your tongue and your teeth as Iwaizumi lifts your arms and places them around his neck, moving his own hands to your waist. 

And this time, when the vivid overhead lights wash over him, his expression is soft. 

“We’re dancing,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

Like his fingers aren’t a burning hot brand against the curve of your hips. 

“You hate dancing,” you reply dumbly. 

The corner of Iwaizumi’s mouth tilts upward a little. “Yeah, I do.”

The crowd around you moves with vigor, laughing and grinding and shouting over the thrumming, pulsing music. But Iwaizumi’s hand just gently slides to your wrist, and he slowly guides you outward into a full-body spin, his eyes sweeping down your form. 

When you find yourself back in your original position, albeit a bit closer than before, he adds, “But I can be convinced.”

Your heart swells. 

You’ve always been attracted to Iwaizumi, endlessly fond of his dark, messy brown hair and perpetual scowl. But the years have been more than kind to him, his boyish teenage features of days long past now cut into something solid and achingly handsome in a way that leaves your gut churning with heat every time you look at him. He’s taller, and broader—though you try not to let yourself dwell on the second point much for the sake of your own sanity. 

And now he’s looking at you expectantly with his stupidly attractive face, a challenge flashing in his eyes as he waits for you to move. 

So you do. 

For a partner that claims to hate this, Iwaizumi doesn’t miss a beat when you start to move, falling into sync with the rhythm of your body. And all you can think is how the way he holds you, the steady pressure of his hands on your waist—it’s nothing like how it was with Oikawa. 

It’s borderline possessive.

Almost.

It’s a battle in and of itself to resist the urge to let your hand slide to the nape of his neck, to card your fingers through the soft, shorter hair at the back of his head. 

Your insides feel raw, flammable. 

Doused in years worth of longing and desire that have soaked you to the bone, left you shivering with want, pliant and porous with need.

And the audible hitch in Iwaizumi’s breath as you spin and place your back to his front is the match. 

The space between your bodies closes as you lean back into him, as he pulls you in. The aftershocks of his touch spiderweb across your nervous system without mercy. 

You press back into him, harder. The beat of the music overheard is lost to you, drowned out by the blood that rushes in your ears as his grip on you tightens.

“You gonna move?” he teases, voice a little rough. “‘Cause I still don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”

Your legs bend at the knee as you drop your body down just enough, ass brushing his thighs, before rolling back up against him. His fingers flex, and he curses hoarsely under his breath.

So you do it again.

Iwaizumi’s mouth is hot when it lands just behind your earlobe, less of a kiss and more of a labored exhale. You shudder at the sensation all the same, and he turns just enough to drag his nose down the side of your neck.

“Hajime,” you gasp.

He lets out a sound that sounds like a broken off laugh, low and abrupt and a little incredulous.

Turning your head, your lips nearly meet, the layer of saliva coating yours prickling against the warmth of his breath that breaches the gap. 

Iwaizumi, as it turns out, is a quick study.

He drags your hips in a rolling motion, rocking forward into you, mouth finding purchase where your neck and shoulder meet. And he does kiss you this time, a hot, slick brand against your skin, your neck, one that sinks in deeper as you breathe out his name again with need punctuating each syllable. 

You’re dizzy on your feet.

And he’s ridiculously hard against you.

Giving in to an urge that spans years beyond this moment, you reach back, dragging your fingers through his hair from the front. You can feel the way he shudders against you. 

“I think I’m done dancing,” you breathe out. 

He doesn’t misunderstand your meaning.

You text Oikawa to let him know you’re heading out, both to save time and to avoid being on the receiving end of what you can only assume will be his most smug look yet.

The taxi ride back to Iwaizumi’s apartment is quiet, but his pinky rests against yours in the middle of the leather backseat. 

He helps you out of your heels as you step through the doorway, his fingers lingering against your ankles as he slips open the buckles.

And you’re sixteen again, biting the inside of your cheek as Iwaizumi kneels in front of you at the run-down local roller rink and tightens the laces on your skates.

He gets you a cold glass of water.

You’re nineteen again, hiccuping and sobbing at two o’clock in the morning on the ugly orange couch at Oikawa and Iwaizumi’s place as the latter mumbles choice words about your ex-boyfriend under his breath. He grabs your wrist to steady the cup of water you’ve nearly spilled twice.

He leads you into his bedroom.

You’re twenty four and you’re hundreds of miles away in a one-bedroom apartment that still doesn’t feel like home. And Iwaizumi’s rolling his eyes fondly on the other side of the phone screen as he takes you for a tour of his new place, making a dramatic grand gesture to show you exactly where he put the omamori you’d sent him via post—on his nightstand beside the bed. 

It’s still there now, nestled beside a pair of reading glasses and tube of chapstick.

And when he settles down on the edge of the bed and looks at you with his palms flat on either side of him and face tilted with a smile—

—your face feels hot, and you choke out a sob that feels equal parts pathetic and cathartic as you stand there before him.

Iwaizumi pulls you into his arms, and his voice is strained as he says, “I didn’t want to hold you back.”

It suddenly makes sense now, the subtle, distant change in him after you received your scholarship letter what feels like a lifetime ago.

“And if I said I want to stay this time?”

You hate your job. 

Your lease is nearly up.

He cups your face in both of his hands, his low, rough tone betraying his steady gaze. “Do you?”

You smile, and his thumb strokes away the next tear that trails down your cheek.

“I missed you,” you whisper.

The shape of his lips mirrors your own. “I miss you all the time.”

And when his mouth finally finds yours, when he cups the back of your head and parts the seam of your lips with his tongue while you straddle his lap, as you both go tumbling backward against the mattress—this feels like home. 

–

“Is it too late for me to tell you how good you looked in this tonight?” Iwaizumi says from where he’s lying beneath you as you tug off your dress, his hands finding a home against your bare sides.

You shiver at the sensation, tossing the black material to join his shirt and pants on the floor. 

He watches it fall. “...I guess it does look better there tho—”

“Don’t you dare.”

He grins, surging up to kiss you, hands deftly flicking open the hinge of your bra as his mouth slots against yours. You nip at his bottom lip, taking it between your teeth, and he groans, drawing an equally needy whine out of you as he cups your bare breast and drags his thumb over your pebbled nipple. 

A little embarrassed by the desperation in your tone, you inhale sharply, and he presses an open mouthed kiss to the corner of your lips as he rasps, “No, I wanna hear you.”

He dips his head down, mouth closing over one of your nipples, and your body arches into his as pleasure dances down your spine. You moan.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, dragging his mouth from your sternum to your collarbone before hotly kissing his way up the side of your neck.

You’re helpless to stop the whimper that leaves you at his whispered praise, and he knows it—you feel him smile against the curve of your jaw. 

When he slides off your underwear, and as you hook a finger in his boxers in turn, you nearly expect him to crawl forward, to lay you flat on your back. But he pulls you back into his lap instead, groaning softly over how wet you are as he slides two fingers through your slick, dripping folds. 

It’s so intimate—rocking back down onto the length of his fingers as he stretches you open, as his chest rises and falls while he watches you tremble. He kisses you hard, the sounds of your moans echoing in the back of his throat as his tongue scrapes against your teeth, fingers slipping and plunging against your plush inner walls. 

And for all that he’s rendered you hopelessly drunk on his touch, he’s equally as affected, his forehead dropping against your shoulder when you finally wrap your hands around his shaft. Iwaizumi lets out a shuddering breath, taking your skin between his teeth.  There’s a breathless conversation that passes between the two of you, his eyes briefly darting toward his nightstand in question, but the matter is settled on other terms.

Iwaizumi’s eyes burn into yours as he grasps your hips and eases you down onto his thick cock, fingers digging in when you keen at the stretch. Your cunt spasms, slick walls eagerly taking each inch until he’s bottomed out inside of you, his mouth pressed to yours as he rasps again, even softer this time, “Good girl.”

You find yourself worried for a moment that in this position, your trembling legs won’t find purchase in this molten sea of pleasure, but the firm pressure of Iwaizumi’s hands on your hips is a stark reminder of how very observant he is. He guides your body upward, enough that the head of his cock rubs against your aching entrance, and then rolls his hips as he drags you back down. 

“Hajime,” you whimper, rocking your throbbing clit against him once he’s buried to the hilt.

“Keep saying my name like that, and I’m not gonna last,” he groans, voice like gravel, cock now thrusting in and out of you repeatedly. 

Reaching up, you card your fingers through his hair and pull, bringing your mouth to his as you exhale against his lips, “Hajime.”

He cups the back of your head, licking his way into your mouth and deepening the kiss before reaching down to drag his thumb over your swollen clit. The coil in your abdomen trembles with the need for release as you feel yourself start to go up in flames faster than you ever could have anticipated.

“Let me hear you come,” he breathes out, eyes locked on yours.

The pleasure cresting inside of you explodes.

You cry out, every muscle in your body going taut as your climax stretches you open wide. And Iwaizumi kisses you hard, fucking you through it until you’re whimpering from overstimulation. He pulls out of you, the base of his cock rubbing against your sensitive clit and soaking wet folds as he rapidly strokes himself, gasping when you replace his hand with your own. Hot ropes of cum splatter between your bodies as his hips jerk upward into your touch, his mouth halfway slotted against yours as he breathes hard and fast. 

You don’t bother going back to your hotel that night.

(You’ll take the afternoon train back.)

–

Months later, home is tangled up in these sheets that smell like his body wash and your shampoo.

It’s quiet mornings on the couch and laughter in the kitchen.

It’s slow dancing in the living room and kissing under the string lights on the tiny balcony. 

Home is here, with Hajime, the reassuring warmth of his fingers threaded into yours.

[ayyy-pee]

𝔼ℙ𝕀𝕊𝕆𝔻𝔼 𝟚 - 𝕀ℕ𝕋ℝ𝕆𝔻𝕌ℂ𝕋𝕀𝕆ℕ𝕊 ℙ𝕋. 𝕋𝕎𝕆

Discord 18+ - Twitter - Last Episode - Masterlist

Pairing: JJK Men x Female Reader

Episode Summary: Introductions continue! Which one of these contestants will be the first to make an impression on your heart?

STORY TWIST: READERS WILL VOTE AFTER CERTAIN CHAPTERS TO CHOOSE WHO GETS A ROSE AND MAKES IT TO THE NEXT WEEK. KEEP A LOOKOUT FOR THE VOTING LINK AT THE END OF CHAPTERS

Story Warning: DRAMA, lying and scheming, REVERSE HAREM, profanity bc I can only be me, arguments, fights probably, heartbreak and tears, (more to come)

Artist Credit: momoya348, Umbra3terna, ilameys,maoyaoyao519, _0_0219, maron.jp Divider Credit: Cafekitsune (Tumblr)

A/N: sorry for the wait yall! i'd give you an excuse but i know yall don't care LMFAO. enjoy!!!

The ground is actually shaking as the King of Curses approaches you step by step. Suddenly, you feel a lot like the chauffeur from just a few moments before. Terrified, trembling and sweaty. He was smart, now that you think about it. Hell, you’d have run too if you could! Sukuna’s aura is so heavy, so scary, so damn intense you feel like you may vomit. You’re hoping the camera doesn’t catch the sweat that you can feel beginning to seep from your pores. Every step closer to you, you swear shaves half a year off of your life. And when he’s right in front of you, his four eyes landing on you, so full of disinterest and maybe a little disdain, you pray you don’t piss yourself on live television.

It’s only then that you begin to realize how incredibly massive this man…curse…is. You have to crane your neck, struggling to peer up at his enormous form. He folds his (again…FOUR?!) arms over his chest and frowns, deep and unsatisfied.

“They should teach you some manners, woman,” he grunts. His deep and gravelly voice sends a chill traveling straight up your spine, and you straighten up, causing Sukuna’s lips to curl down in further dissatisfaction. “You hold your head too high,” he speaks.

You raise a brow, and it must be the adrenaline coursing through your veins, because like an absolute idiot, you open your mouth and dumbly mutter, “How? You’re like ten feet tall.”

You could hear a pin drop, hear the way every single crew member inhales and doesn’t dare exhale that breath. You know the cameramen should probably pan over to catch what’s next, but they have more sense than you clearly, because they don’t deign to move an inch. It’s complete silence in the driveway as Sukuna’s gaze pierces yours.

This may be the end for you. And honestly? You’d be okay with that. Sad, sure, but you’ve lived a decent life. Aside from this very brief experience, it was nothing special. But it was comfortable, full of good times. If it’s meant to end here, you don’t think you’d be too upset about it. You just hope that they’ll do you the favor of censoring your probably gory and untimely demise.

Sukuna lifts an arm (one out of four…oh my God, will you ever get over that?), and you squeeze your eyes shut tightly.

‘Here it comes’, you think. The finishing blow. One shot from him and you’ll be wiped from this earth, a smudge on this world’s history. You’ll be forgotten shortly after your end and the world will move on without you.

You blame Utahime for this, because again, if you hadn’t listened to her drunk ass you would be sitting behind a desk doing paperwork. Not on the verge of death before the most powerful being of all time.

But after several seconds, you realize you’ve felt no pain, heard no screams or cries. But instead, a sound of something akin to a chuckle. You open one eye, peeking up to see Sukuna’s large hand come down to pat the top of your head. Gently, at that.

“Funny. I suppose I won’t kill you and your entourage.”

His eyes roam the landscape behind you and the confusion is clear on his face. You suppose it would be rather confusing for an ancient curse to see all the lights, large buildings and technology of today.

“What is this–” he waves a hand in the air. “This place? Why did you all bring me here?”

Now you’re confused. Didn’t he sign up for the show himself?

Satoru throws his head back, cackles hysterically. “I just thought it’d be fun!” A wide grin sits on his features as he leans back in his seat casually, as relaxed as ever. “Just imagine the strongest modern day Sorcerer alive and the strongest curse in history competing for love of all things.” He sighs, wiping at his eyes as he comes down from his laughter. “Fucking hilarious.”

He’s quiet for a second, then he doubles over, arms wrapping around his core as he succumbs to another fit of giggles. Suddenly, his laughter dies, then he’s throwing his head back in a groan this time. “Dammit. If he goes on a killing rampage, then I’ll have to work!” 

BACK OUTSIDE…

“It’s…The Bachelorette,” you answer Sukuna’s question, your fear slowly dissipating as your casual conversation continues on. Which may be a stupid move on your end. You should keep your guard up. This is the King of Curses in front of you, after all. From what you know, he loves to make someone feel safe only to literally crush them a moment later. 

But also, this is the damn King of Curses in front of you. If he deems it so, your death is already guaranteed. You couldn’t do shit if you had to face a normal curse let alone the strongest among them. 

The cameraman has finally panned around to capture your interaction and Sukuna doesn’t seem the least bit impressed. His expression is flat, very obviously bored. “The what?”

“The Bachelorette,” you repeat and when he fixes you with a deadpan stare, you elaborate further for some reason. “It’s a dating show. Jujutsu Sorcerers compete for the heart of one Bachelorette –” you point to yourself. “Me,” Sukuna frowns further and you match his expression with a frown of your own. “And– alright, don’t look so upset about it.”

‘The nerve of this guy!’

“Why would anyone waste time on this? Finding…love.” Sukuna spits the word out like it’s bitter before he laughs.

“A pointless venture,” Sukuna grumbles, picking at the paint on one of his many nails. Unfortunately, Sukuna’s size was severely underestimated, which is why the camera is only able to fit his torso into the screen. 

Behind the lens, the director asks shakily, “You don’t believe in love?”

“How would love benefit me? It’s for the weak.” He pauses, his scowl deepening as he folds his arms together. “I should actually kill you for asking me such an imbecilic question.”

BACK OUTSIDE…

“I won’t kill you since this pathetic endeavor you’re on for love will likely be punishment enough for someone like you.” He grins, the venom in his words clear as he speaks. He’s referring to you being a Window — weak, useless, undeserving of love and probably life to someone like him. Sukuna strokes his chin in amusement, eyes roaming along your form. “It will surely be entertaining to watch.”

He looks you over once more, and the fear that returns, rushing through your body makes you dizzy. You feel like you’re on the menu. One wrong move and Sukuna will be having you for dinner…and not in a sexy way.

But instead of acting on whatever temptation he may have, Sukuna simply…vanishes. Though you’re sure he took off and is just way too damn fast for your weak Window eyes to see. Either way, when you’re sure Sukuna is gone, you - and the entire crew - breathe a collective sigh of relief.

“Should we bring in the next contestant?” One of the staff asks nervously and you stare straight into the camera.

“I think I need a break,” you squeak.

Because you’re about ten seconds from shitting yourself.

- - - - - -

The next contestant pulls up shortly after returning from commercial break. You’re back in position at the end of the long red carpet as you wait for him. He exits his limousine quickly, like he’s got somewhere more important to be. And you’re not sure if this show is the important matter at hand.

He’s incredibly handsome, dressed in a nice suit that he adjusts as he makes his way towards you, face set in a serious expression. His deep brown eyes gaze down lifelessly past his large nose as he approaches and you suddenly feel as if you’re under a microscope, just waiting to be picked apart. There’s something unsettling about this man, something that’s putting you on edge. 

Is it normal to feel like someone is taking note of every small movement you make, every involuntary facial tic, even the look in your eyes and filing it away to use against you later? That’s what you feel this man is doing. Just collecting little things about you to throw into your face somewhere down the line.

His glossy black shoes seem to glide along the red carpet and the cameramen must also notice, because the lenses point right to his feet as he goes. He moves so quickly, you hardly have time to breathe before he’s standing before you. And now, you feel your nerves ignite. Suddenly, you feel you should watch what you say, because you can’t help but feel as though you’re on trial for something. And it makes sense because he opens his pretty lips to speak and his words immediately catch you off guard.

“Have you ever been convicted of a misdemeanor or a felony?”

“Um…” Your eyes dart to the camera, brows pulling together in confusion as you chuckle nervously. “No?”

But it’s clear he’s not joking, not a trace of humor in his face as the question hangs between the two of you. The man narrows his eyes, his tiny pupils becoming even smaller if at all possible. “And you’re telling the truth?”

You chuckle awkwardly, your mind screaming “what the actual fuck” on loop. “Ah– What happened to hello? How are you? My name is…”

“I know your name,” he cuts you off. Then he spends the next minute listing off facts about you. He says your name aloud, the sound of it on his tongue sending chills racing up your spine. He lists off your age, occupation, even your friends and their occupations. It’s all a matter of fact, because they are fact. He doesn’t get a single thing wrong.

You think this man is abrasive. Maybe a little scary. And definitely weird.

Weirdly sexy?

Something is so very off with this man, that much is apparent by the exhaustion in his eyes, the way he fidgets with his fingers even while they’re confined in his pockets. But something may be so very off with you as well because you’re finding this mini interrogation of his oddly arousing.

‘Oh my God, can you focus?!’

“And what’s your name?” You finally counter, blinking your filthy thoughts away.

“Higuruma Hiromi,” he states without a beat. His tone is clipped, his eyes assessing you curiously.

“I suppose I will take your word for it.” He nods, and you fix him with a look of confusion. He waves his hand in the air. “Your criminal record. I’ll accept you saying you’re not a convict of some sort.”

“Ah,” you nod. “Well, glad you decided to trust me,” you smile shyly, and Higuruma frowns.

“I didn’t. Judgeman did.” He gestures behind him, and your eyes follow the path to where an enormous, terrifying blob floats in the air. You’re not sure how you missed that. 

‘Probably because you were too busy undressing Hiromi with your eyes?’

You clear your throat, glancing up at Higuruma. The stitch-eyed curse behind him simply sits there, staring into space. “Seeing as there’s no cursed technique for me to confiscate from you, it’s safe to assume you’re of no actual threat here. And also unlikely that you’ve committed gross atrocities given you are currently starring in this television dating show. I would imagine they would complete a thorough background check on you.” 

Now you frown. “Are you saying that I’m boring?”

Higuruma shakes his head, the tiniest of smirks sitting at the corners of his mouth. “On the contrary. The fact that you’re so normal…it actually makes you all the more endearing.” Your heart rate picks up, his honesty and compliment(?) making you the slightest bit flustered.

He sighs, tilting his head back to look up to the night sky. Like he’s reminiscing about something. “I only recently came to be a part of this world, the Jujutsu world, and I miss my old shitty life sometimes.”

The sudden deep confession surprises you. You expected this way later down the road given how closed off he was just moments before. It seems a flip has switched now that he knows you’re not some crook out to commit heinous crimes. You’re grateful for it, as well.

You can relate to Hiromi a bit. You also had no reason to be a part of the Jujutsu world, and yet you’ve found yourself smack dab in the middle of it as you chase after love with some of the most powerful Sorcerers you’ve ever laid eyes on. These are men you would have never crossed paths with in your daily life. And now, they will be fighting (hopefully not literally) each other to have you in the end. 

“Well, I know this experience is so far from normal, but I appreciate you coming, anyway.” You bow slightly in his curse’s direction. “And thank you, Judgeman, for proving to Hiromi that I’m not a convicted felon,” you tack on jokingly.

This is apparently what was needed to break just the tiniest bit through Higuruma’s walls because the corners of his lips curl up just a bit more as he peers down at you. He mutters your name once more, reaching a hand out to take yours. “I’m beginning to think it wasn’t a mistake to come here. It was a pleasure to meet you.”

He takes his leave shortly after, and the director calls for another commercial break. You take this time to head to your trailer offset for a quick touchup on your makeup. As you sit in your makeup chair, you wonder how the guys are doing…

INSIDE THE MANSION

Satoru groans obnoxiously from his side of the couch, beside Nanami. “Is anyone else going to show up? I’m so bored!”

“You could always leave and go back to your actual job,” Nanami quips. “I’m sure The Strongest is needed literally anywhere else but here.”

Satoru puts a hand to his chest dramatically, mouth falling open with a gasp. “You are so mean to me, Nanami.” He grins, nudging Nanami with his shoulder. “You trying to get rid of the competition already?”

He’s met with silence from the blonde, who simply folds his arms and closes his eyes, choosing to ignore his senior.

“You’re hardly any competition,” Suguru snorts on the other side of Nanami.

“I’m the only competition here. Be serious,” Satoru argues, standing from his seat. “Who wouldn’t want to be with The Strongest?”

“Me, or really anyone who loves themselves,” Suguru deadpans.

Satoru rolls his eyes behind his glasses. “You’re an anomaly. Besides, you both know I’m right. No offense, but Nanami is frugal, stiff and kinda boring. You’re a wanted mass murderer with strange looking people as followers, and I haven’t met any of the other guys to know what they’re like, but I can bet–”

The door to the mansion swings open and in walks Higuruma. His wide eyes roam across the room, landing first on Suguru who assesses him with vague interest. Then Nanami, who only glances over to him briefly before resuming his position. Then Satoru, who stands with his hands in the air, obviously in the middle of making a point before Higuruma had arrived.

“Who the hell are you?” Satoru scoffs, unimpressed.

“Satoru–”

“Satoru–”

Suguru and Nanami chide in unison.

“Must you always be so crass?” Suguru questions, pinching the bridge of his nose. It’s been so long since he’d been in the presence of his former best friend, he’d forgotten how annoying he could be. 

“Higuruma Hiromi,” the newer man states as he moves across the room, not caring in the least about Satoru’s tone. He takes a seat on the sofa opposite of the three men, observing his surroundings.

“Nanami Kento,” Nanami introduces himself when the other two fail to speak up. He offers a seated bow, to which Higuruma returns.

“Geto Suguru,” Suguru’s soft voice floats across the room, though he doesn’t offer a polite bow the same way Nanami does. Perhaps if he were the old Suguru he may have, but he’s long past bowing to others. If anything, others should bow to him.

“Gojo Satoru,” the white haired man mutters, rolling his eyes.

Higuruma nods, eyes landing at the buffet in the corner of the large space, staring. “...And who is he?”

All heads turn to the buffet where a massive man stands with a plate of food. His face has stray grains of rice littered around his lips, which is stuffed with tonight’s dinner. He scoops a large spoonful into his mouth, nodding to the other men as he chews.

He’s tall, so tall that his height rivals Satoru’s. Shaggy, black hair covers the most beautiful green eyes. And when he grins, his pretty lips spread wide, the scar running through both his top and bottom lips accenting his features.

This man is gorgeous, they’re all thinking it.

Not to mention, he’s fucking ripped. A skintight black shirt hardly does much to cover every hard muscle of his body. His wide shoulders and thick arms look as though he could crush them all without much thought. And he could. He has.

“Zenin…” Satoru and Suguru speak through gritted teeth.

“Fushiguro,” the man corrects them, taking another bite of his food.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Suguru questions, standing from his seat. His eyes narrow, hands clenched into fists at his side. It’s been a decade since he laid eyes on the man who altered his entire world, and he’s not someone he wanted to see again. He’s lucky Satoru let him off with his life after their last encounter.

“Placing bets on who the broad out there ends up with,” the man laughs loudly with a full mouth. “Bet it’s none of you, though.”

At this, Satoru bursts into a fit of giggles, laughing so hard he doubles over. “I’ll take you up on that bet. Seeing as you’ve never won one in your life, should be easy for me.”

Toji only grins, taking another bite of his food.

“Please don’t tell me you’re also participating for her heart,” Suguru sighs, feeling a headache coming on.

Toji shrugs. “Does it matter?”

At this, Satoru groans, flopping back down on the couch with Nanami. “Who invited the damn geezer to the show? Thought this was for real Sorcerers.”

Nanami inhales deeply. “She’s not a Sorcerer, either,” he states.

“That’s different,” Satoru doesn’t miss a beat. “She’s a Window, so she’s in our world at least.”

It’s true. In Satoru’s eyes, you’re weak, but at least you have enough cursed energy to see the atrocities around you. You won’t see a curse only when you’re on death’s door, you’ll see one before they strike. And sure, you can’t do anything about it, but that’s what he’s for. He doesn’t mind playing protector to someone who at least resides on his side of the fence. It’s what he’s always done anyway. Why not do it for someone he could potentially love?

It also helps that you’re easy on the eyes.

“Hardly, but I do see your point,” Suguru agrees. He takes the spot next to Higuruma on the other sofa. “Doesn’t matter. I’m here for one reason, and it’s her.”

An obnoxious yawn comes from the other side of the room, Toji now leaning against the wall. “When does she show up, anyway?”

The other four look absolutely bewildered, eyes wide and brows pulled together. 

“What…” Suguru asks. “You didn’t go meet her?”

“Was I supposed to?”

“Yes!” Satoru yells from his seat. “How the hell did you even get in here? Past all the cameras?!”

Toji purses his lips together, scratching his head while he racks his memory. Then he shrugs, like he came up short. “Guess I followed the smell of the food.”

BACK OUTSIDE…

You fidget with your fingers as you watch as another limousine pulls up. You’re exhausted, and honestly ready for this whole introduction ordeal to be done. It’s so late, definitely after 9pm, and even after all this, you still have to head inside of the mansion to mingle with the men. You would really rather go to sleep, finally crawl into bed after such a long and tiring day. But there are several eligible bachelors eagerly awaiting your arrival.

And here comes another one.

The door to the vehicle swings open, and a very nice Prada combat boot hits the floor. Out steps the one of the most attractive men you’ve ever seen in your life. Tall, muscular, and so damn pretty, you’re almost jealous. Even with the distance between you two, you can see how perfect his face is.

Already, he’s made an impression because he’s not dressed to the nines in a suit and tie like the other men you’ve met tonight. Instead, he wears casual clothing, with a loose sleeveless shirt and black jeans. His hair is messy, tied up into two high ponytails that sit atop his head. And even then, he looks just as good as the others.

Something about him looks familiar to you, though you can’t quite place where you could’ve seen him before all of this.

As the man approaches, the lights from the camera crew illuminate his face. You can make out deep purple bags that sit beneath his eyes. He looks as tired as Hiromi, more even. There’s a thick black stripe that runs along his face. A tattoo, maybe? He’s pale, the moonlight casting an almost ethereal glow over him.

‘Why the hell are all these Sorcerers so fucking hot?’

You try to keep it in your pants, focusing on the sound of the chains of this man’s boots jingling softly with each step until he’s standing in front of you. His deep brown eyes rake over your body before they find your eyes. His lips curl into a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, but it’s not disingenuous any sort of way. More like he’s very nervous and trying very hard to not come off that way.

“Hi,” you throw him a lifeline, the camera capturing the way you smile encouragingly.

“Hi.” 

You offer him your name, trying to loosen him up because he looks like he feels so out of place. There’s something off about him that you can’t quite put your finger on.

“I’m Choso.”

“It’s so nice to meet you, Choso. Tell me about yourself.”

Your question breathes life into the man, his face brightening up as he proceeds to tell you all about his brothers. He’s the oldest of four, you find out. And he’s very doting and loving to all three of his younger brothers. You find it adorable, the way he raves about each of them and their special talents that they have. Unfortunately, you don’t have too much time to let him continue.

“You’re very beautiful,” he compliments you suddenly, and you can’t stop the shy smile now spreading along your features that matches the one sitting on Choso’s. 

“Thank you. You are so handsome.” 

Choso beams, and then he does something that surprises you. He wraps his arms around your form, enveloping you in his warmth. He smells incredible, and expensive. You return the gesture, and for some reason, all the stressful buildup of tonight seems to just melt away.

When he releases you, you see the soft smile sitting on his lips and you just know you can’t wait to see more of it. This man is an absolute sweetheart.

“Can’t wait to get to talk with you more tonight,” he says softly, and you don’t miss the light dusting of pink coloring his cheeks now.

“Me too.”

Your teeth dig into your bottom lip, nibbling at the soft flesh as Choso takes your hand and squeezes gently. What began as an awkward encounter ended up being a sweet meeting between you and the man now heading into the mansion. You’re so excited to–

Wait. You think you know why he looks so familiar!

You spin on your heel, turning to call after him. He turns to face you, a questioning look at his face. “Um…have you ever skateboarded before?” You yell across the courtyard.

At this, Choso’s brows pull together, head tilting to the side. He’s so obviously confused. “Skateboarding? No, why?”

You shake your head, chuckling with embarrassment. “No reason…you just…looked kind of familiar.”

- - - - - -

Jesse appears again once the cameras are set back up after another commercial break. He’s all poised as he grins at you. You haven’t seen him since you both first arrived on set, but he lets you know that he will be seeing you more often now that the introductions are complete.

“So, you’ve met all of the men,” he begins, the camera moving back to catch you both in frame. 

“Oh, that was everyone?” You could have sworn there was one more person who was supposed to show up.

“How are you feeling about them so far? Any you’re looking forward to spending more time with?”

Your mind goes through every man who has appeared so far, building a list of what appealed to you most about them. And you really like them all. There’s no way you could choose right now, not when there’s still so much to learn about each of them. You can’t wait to get some alone time. You tell Jesse as much, his response an amused shake of his head. “Looks. like you’ve got your work cut out for you, then.”

“Oh, absolutely. They’re all incredible. I could definitely see my husband being one of these men.”

And it’s a crazy thing to think, that at the end of all of this, you’ll likely be engaged and ready to marry someone.

“But—,” Jesse interjects. “You are down one contestant. Sukuna has chosen to leave the show…”

The camera moves closer to catch the nod of your head. Your brief stint with the King of Curses is not one you think you’ll forget any time soon, if ever. He could have ended this journey for you before it even began. He spared you, mainly for his own entertainment, but still. You came face to face with the King of Curses, and you of all people, lived. Not many can say that. Especially non-Sorcerers.

Jesse tells you that it’s time to get some one on one time with the guys and leads you to the mansion where they all wait. Your heart races in your chest as you approach the enormous doors, stopping just outside of them. You can hear the loud chatter inside, the men laughing raucously as they discuss whatever has them behaving so lively. You’re excited to finally be moving into this next phase of the process. You want to get to know each of them as soon as possible.

“You ready?” Jesse questions, his smile giving you a boost of confidence. “You’ve got this. Go in with an open mind, and an open heart. The man of your dreams awaits you inside.”

You laugh, and it’s all nerves, because that may be the scariest and most exciting part of this entire journey. “I don’t know how you did this, Jesse,” you chuckle dyly, to which Jesse lightly places a hand on your shoulder where he squeezes gently.

“Hey, you’re a smart girl. You’ll be able to find who you’re looking for. Remember…open mind, open heart. Can’t go wrong there.”

You swear you hear some of the staff swoon behind the camera, the crew sure to catch this interaction between you and your host, and it makes you grin. You can see why Jesse’s season of The Bachelor was so popular, and why he’s now the host of both franchises. So you nod, letting Jesse know that you’re ready to head inside to spend time with your men.

He pulls the double doors open for you and you head inside, straight through the doorway and into the living room where the men await. Jesse moves swiftly ahead of you, signaling for you to wait for a moment just outside of the living room, in the hall while he heads down the steps into the main room. 

”Gentlemen,” he announces his presence, and they all stand when they see the host. There’s an eruption of noise, the men greeting Jesse eagerly. Your heart beats wildly in your chest, knowing that in just a few moments, you’ll be seeing them all again. You can’t wait. 

“I know you’re all ready to see ___,” Jesse continues. “How are you feeling about her so far?” Jesse’s eyes land on the blonde man standing quietly, his hands hidden in his pockets to hide the way he fidgets nervously. “Nanami,” Jesse calls. “What’s your first impression?”

Nanami purses his lips together, carefully gathering his thoughts before he speaks. He’s unsure if there is a word that’s strong enough to describe how he felt about you upon first meeting. And he’s not sure if he’s capable of expressing how he felt upon laying eyes on you. Even still, he means it when he says, “An absolute beauty.”

The other men nod in agreement. “Definitely a sight to behold,” Choso adds. “Very sweet, too.” He says it with certainty, like there’s no doubt in his mind that you’re a kind person. He’d like to think that he’s pretty good at reading people. He’s been studying humans for quite some time, after all. You are one of the good ones, he’s sure of it. Your energy makes him feel comfortable, and he tells Jesse this as well.

Jesse beams, impressed with how the men already seem to be taken by you. “That’s great to hear. Now, I do have some unfortunate news or maybe it’s fortunate depending on how you see it.”

There’s a brief pause, which the camera crew uses to capture each contestant's face, making sure they capture any nerves on their features.

“One contestant has chosen not to continue participating in the competition.”

At this, Satoru snorts, garnering the attention of several others, but he lets Jesse continue.

“Sukuna has opted out of the competition.”

“Good,” Suguru interjects. “One less body.”

“Honestly, I couldn’t give a shit if someone left,” he yawns, leaning back against the confessional room’s sofa. “Send the rest of them home, too.” 

He’s aware he sounds like a dick, too confident in himself, but why shouldn’t he be? He’s got so much to offer you, so much that the others can’t provide. He’s confident that with one person gone, he’ll be able to get that much closer to you. He picks at his nails in boredom before he asks. “Who even invited him, anyway?” 

The wheels turn in his head until he puts 2 and 2 together, chuckling quietly to himself. 

“It was Satoru, wasn’t it?”

BACK INSIDE…

“Can we please circle back to the bit about Sukuna?” Nanami speaks up this time. “You just casually had the King of Curses outside to compete for…” He clears his throat, as though the term itself makes him uncomfortable. “Love”. His eyes land on Satoru, because he’s positive it couldn’t have been anyone else who could have thrown this together but him.

The man in question shrugs mischievously, poking his tongue out when his gaze meets Nanami’s. He tries not to smile too hard at the scowl he receives from his colleague in return.

“How on earth were we meant to survive that?” Higuruma chimes in now. His eyes are round with disbelief. “Wait…did ___ meet with him?” 

Jesse nods. “Yes, and they actually had a pretty pleasant conversation. Though Sukuna wasn’t interested in moving forward.” The camera pans over to Higuruma who now seems lost in thought, no longer paying the host much mind. Jesse takes this beat of silence as his cue to continue forward. “Well, our lady of the hour is waiting patiently to have some much needed one on one time with you. Let's get her in here.”

Now, that’s your cue.

You enter the space, feeling the tension rise between the guys immediately, even as they all applaud upon your arrival. Your eyes take in each and every familiar face. It’s nice to see all of the men you’ve had the pleasure of speaking with for a few brief moments. You can’t wait to get alone time with each —

Hold on a minute.

Your eyes land on one man who sticks out like a sore thumb. From across the room, right next to the buffet, a pair of emerald eyes bore into your own, and you feel your heart rate pick up. You’ve never seen this man before. At least you don’t think you have. You have met quite a few people tonight and it’s all been a bit overwhelming. It’s perfectly possible that he slipped your mind after meeting. Though as you drink in the way his eyes shimmer even in the dim lighting, his chiseled features and the deep scar through both his lips, you highly doubt you’d be able to forget a face like that. 

Perhaps he’s another staff member, hired to man the buffet table. If so, he’s doing a piss poor job at it seeing as he’s holding a plate of half eaten food in his hands. He has to be a contestant, right? How could he have gotten past you? Even with your embarrassingly small amount of cursed energy, you feel like you would have picked up on his presence.

The camera swings around, cutting off your vision of the man, and in the blink of an eye he's gone. There’s a pang of disappointment, and a bit of confusion. You feel as if you imagined him. But you don’t have time to dwell on the mystery man your mind conjured up, because you need to focus on the men who are actually here. You turn your attention back to the ones you do know… only to be met again with the face of the stranger from just seconds ago as he stands right before you.

You almost piss yourself from the shock.

His gaze now roams your form, the smallest hint of a smile on his lips. He’s incredibly obvious in the way that he assesses you. And even more obvious in the way he seems to be enjoying what he sees. He slips his hands into his pockets, eyes once again staring straight into yours as he backs away to stand with the other men. “Well,” he hums, not breaking eye contact. “I was gonna snag some food and head out, but I think I’ll stick around…to observe.”

“Sorry,” Jesse interrupts. “But this show is only for those who signed up to participate.”

The mystery man rolls his eyes. “I’m already on the list.”

Jesse shakes his head. “We didn’t see you outside. There’s a proper process to follow here. You’re supposed to meet our Bachelorette,” he motions to you, and you smile awkwardly. “Why didn’t you come through the front door?”

“I’m meeting her now, aren’t I?” He questions, and Jesse nods, because technically he’s not wrong.

“Well, yes, but you should have come through the front,” Jesse argues weakly. 

Toji snorts. “Front door,back door, doesn’t really make a difference to me.” He says this shamelessly as he looks right at you, and you can’t help it! Your mouth drops open, just enough to get a reaction out of the man. The camera quickly captures the grin that spreads on his face when he sees your expression. “Unless it matters to you, sweetheart,” he teases.

You pick your jaw up off the floor, the camera moving around to get your response. You can’t possibly let him one up you on your own show. So you match his smirk, teasingly responding, “I mean…let's wait until we get to know each other a little better to find out.”

It’s the best response you can give in the moment, in front of a room full of men patiently (and hungrily) waiting to get even a smidge of your attention. And clearly it was a good rebuttal. The man’s smirk only widens. You can hear the staff muttering quietly behind you, clearly speaking into the earpiece that you know Jesse wears. You watch as the cameras move to capture the tension between this man and Jesse, who is now pursing his lips together in displeasure. “Are you a…Sorcerer then?” 

He stares Jesse down, and you don’t miss the way his jaw ticks just barely before he grits out a low and gravelly, “sure”. But Jesse doesn’t seem to notice. He simply nods, asking his name.

“Toji Fushiguro.”

Jesse sighs, his friendly host mask slipping just a for a second before he recovers. He claps his hands together, turning towards you with a grin that you’re certain is not genuine in the least. 

“Looks like we’ve got another man vying for your heart, ___. How are you feeling about it?”

You tear your gaze away from Toji, nodding to Jesse. “Hey, the fun of the Bachelorette are the surprises, right? I’m definitely looking forward to getting to know Toji a little more.”

Jesse throws his head back with a laugh. “Glad to see you being a good sport about it! Speaking of surprises, we have just one more.”

The doors to the mansion swing open suddenly, cutting Jesse’s monologue off. The sounds of light footsteps fill the space, and you watch the way Toji crosses his arms, how Satoru rolls his eyes, and how Suguru’s nostrils flare. Clearly, whoever is entering the building isn’t welcome. 

Jesse continues his speech. “I know you were looking forward to having time to get to know each of these men one on one, and you will get that chance, I promise. But…”

The cameraman hurries to catch the sight of shoes, slowly walking down the same steps you took into the living space and you spin around to follow the view. As the camera slowly coasts up the form entering the room, so do your eyes, trailing over the tall, well dressed young man who appears before you.

“You’ve gotten a brief moment to talk to each man, have gotten a good feel for who you want to move forward with, I’m sure.”

It’s not really a question. Jesse states this as though it’s a fact, and as far as this show is concerned, it is. Even if you don’t feel as if you’ve gotten enough time with the men, they feel that you have. And all you feel is a tight knot forming in the pit of your stomach, because you’re sure whatever’s coming is bad news.

“You’ll still get your one on one time with each guy, don’t worry, but at the end of it all,” Jesse turns to face all of the men. “___ will be giving out a rose to each man she thinks should continue forward on this journey with her. However, only one of you will be leaving here without a rose.”

“And him?” Choso questions, staring down the man standing behind you.

“Ah, right. Everyone, meet Sukuna’s replacement.”

The man moves ahead of you, taking your hand in his and pressing a sweet kiss to your knuckles. He’s as beautiful as the rest of the men, and you wonder again how it’s possible for every damn person in the Sorcerer world to be so damn good looking. 

The man has a smile that reminds you a bit of Toji’s, but that’s the only resemblance he shares with the older man. The eyeliner around his eyes looks better than your own, accentuating the color of his eyes, and his hair that goes from blonde to brown at the tips hangs loosely in his face, giving him an edgy look. The multiple black earrings decorating his ears adds to his style, and your heart flutters when he leans forward boldly and presses another kiss to your cheek.

He stands back, letting himself fully appreciate the view. He strokes his chin lazily, nodding seemingly in approval before he mutters, “Not bad.”

Your brows knit together, head tilting to the side as you reply with a quiet thanks. You introduce yourself, gently pulling your hand from his grip. “It’s nice to meet you…”

The man shakes his head, a cocky grin on his face as he speaks. “I’m sure it’s very nice for someone of your…” He looks you up and down, almost amused at what he sees. “...standing to meet someone like me.” It’s all he says, turning on his heel and moving across the room to stand with the other men without another word.

‘Okay, kind of an asshole,’ you think. ‘A hot asshole, but–’

“I didn’t get your name,” you call after him, trying to reel your thoughts in.

He cards a hand through his hair smoothly. “Zenin Naoya.”

Jesse takes over, explaining that while the rose ceremony will still take place, Naoya will be immune as he is taking Sukuna’s place at the last minute. 

As your eyes roam across the room, taking in the sight of all of the men here competing for a chance at love with you, of all people, you can’t help but feel guilty that shortly, you’ll be having one on one time with each of them only to end up sending one home. They each have made your heart race, each have left an impression on you, each have made you feel something. You’re not sure if you could imagine sending any of these amazing men home.

The camera swings towards your face, capturing every bit of tension in your features as your mind reels with the idea of making such a difficult decision.

Your 1 on 1 time begins now,” Jesse announces. “And ___?”

“Yes, Jesse?” You respond, being pulled out of your thoughts.

Jesse offers you a tiny smile, this time it’s genuine. It’s a smile that understands exactly what you’re experiencing, what you’re feeling. He gently pats your shoulder as he moves towards the exit. “Good luck.”

It's Voting Time!!!

Follow the link below to vote for the Sorcerer you think should NOT receive a rose and move on to the next round!

COMING UP ON THE NEXT EPISODE OF BACHELORETTE KAISEN:

The guys get one on one time with you, and one man will be sent home without a rose! (Remember that Naoya is immune!)

CLICK HERE TO VOTE - Voting closes in ONE WEEK on 10/1!

[eggyrocks]

GET BACK CHAPTER FOUR

step four: impress her

masterlist

YOU HAVE ONE NEW MESSAGE

goatkuto (07:34:23): GAME DAY GAME DAY GAME DAY goatkuto (07:34:49): ARE YOU PUMPED? GET PUMPED goatkuto (07:35:14): LISTEN TO MISS THEE STALLION AND GET PUMPED

She doesn’t look at Bokuto once. The whole time she’s there, her eyes never leave Hinata.

Through the cheers of the crowd and the echo of the announcements, all she can focus on is him. He’s not the same as he was in high school. It’s different now, everything about him. There’s a precision and a confidence in his movements that didn’t exist before. Whether he’s crouching for a receive or soaring for a spike, everything is natural, like his body is meant to do this.

Brazil was good to him. She admits that, however reluctantly.

She’s grateful for his focus, for the seemingly immense distance between him on the court and her in the stands. She doesn’t want to explain herself to him, why she can’t, even for a second, look away from him as he plays. Why she can’t focus on anything but him. Why when Akaashi reaches down to take hold of her hand and squeeze it slightly, she can’t even feel it. It doesn’t even make sense to her.

And when the match ends, something catches in her throat. It feels nostalgic to watch Hinata throw his fist up in victory, a yell escaping his chest. At it’s that same bout of nostalgia that makes her feel like she needs to rush the court and leap into his arms, like she used to. To kiss every inch of his face and ignoring the sweat that makes his uniform cling to his skin. To push the strands of orange hair out of his forehead and squeal as his arms squeezed around her middle. To listen to him call her his good luck charm.

Instead, she squeezes Akaashi’s hand in return, choking down her tears for later, and acknowledges that it was a mistake to come.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

She tries to give Akaashi and Bokuto their space and their privacy, standing outside of the gym, awkwardly holding her jacket in her arms and turning her head to avoid seeing an embrace that’s not meant for her to see. But Akaashi’s her ride home, so she lingers.

“Hey.”

When she hears his voice, it’s not unexpected. She was preparing for this outcome, but still, her heart leaps when she looks up and sees Hinata there, gym bag thrown over his shoulder and ends of his hair still dripping from the shower. She swallows. She’s not sure if it’s the sadness or the nerves that account for the irregularity. “Hey,” she replies.

Hinata stares at her, but keeps his distance, leaving a healthy few feet between him. Like he’s afraid of getting his head bitten off if he gets too close. “Are you okay?” he asks.

“Just waiting for Keiji,” she says, head gesturing back slightly to where Bokuto and Akaashi are, tucked around the corner in the back of the gym, away from prying eyes. “Ride home.”

“Oh, okay.”

Hinata doesn’t want to leave. She can see it in his posture, how he’s leaning in towards her without actually taking a step closer. For as much as he’s changed, grown into himself and matured and aged, he’s still the same. Bold and nervous at the same time. Awkward and forward. Honest about what he wants but embarrassed about it.

She throws him a bone. “You played good today.”

He takes it, perking up immediately. She can see it in his eyes. “Really? You think?”

She remembers this, from when they were dating. How hard it was to stay mad at him when they were fighting. He was always so well-intentioned, always desperately wanting to please her, impress her, earn her praise. Remembering hardens her resolve. “Yeah, you must’ve learned a lot in Brazil,” she comments. “Seems like it was worth it.”

She can see the implication hit him. Hinata’s face falls, and he breathes out her name in a way that makes goosebumps rise on the back of her neck. He takes a step forward, remembers himself, and then steps back again. “Please let me apologize for-“

“Can I ask you something?” she interjects, tilting her head slightly. Hinata nods his head. “Did you think I’d just be waiting for you this whole time? That my life would just stop until you got back?”

“I was waiting for you,” is his answer, earnest and immediate. She inhales sharply. “It never crossed my mind to do anything else. This whole time, you’ve been the only person I’ve ever…”

He trails off. Hinata’s unsaid words hang limply in the space between them. And she doesn’t know what else she was expecting from him.

Her name is called from behind her. She whips around to see Akaashi standing behind her, waiting expectantly. She doesn’t look back at Hinata as she turns on her heel to join him. Underneath the jacket in her arms, her hands are shaking. It was a mistake to talk to him, too.

extras!

yn has pushover tendencies

akaashi goes to every game he can and he always tries to bring someone along to cheer for bokuto with him

it was probably halfway through the match when he realized the error of his ways

but bokuto (hinata loyalist) asked him to bring her and akaashi (simp) couldn’t say no

this chapter is short but i just wanted to get it out while i had the motivation

taglist: @wyrcan @thechaosoflonging @localgaytrainwreck @cherrypieyourface @eclecticeggknightpsychic @httpakkeiji @does-directions @needtoloveoutloud @causenessus @kawaii-angelanne @thatonecroc @v1oletfury @lonesomedrive @nnnyxie @guitarstringed-scars @ahdbodhr @nbcvs @garfieldissocool @shoyobub @iheartpinky @choerry-picking @mollyrolls @stoopidbruh @yogurtkags @yuminako @rockleeisbaeeee @Lisoozi @michivrse @19calicos @sawyersloanie @bailey-reeds @staileykout @kitskasoboring @iluvaquaphor @lllaw @enervante-cochon @loveelylacey @atsumuenthusiast @qualitygiantshoepsychic @alpha-mommy69 @acowboykisser @milesmoralesluvs @Himbo_joestar @kinsies-blog @3lectraheart @1lovestrawberrymilk @dailyakira @lvtilzs @miliondollagirl @strxwberri-s @kokoblep @muskratlove @honeyfewr @paulaaaa-b0 @keeboismine @miiyas @s1ckntw1st3d @s777athv @itsdragonius @t5ukishimakeis @primaverx

[trippinsorrows]

are jey's kids really bad or is that just roman being a grump?

oh no, they are bad. lol you ever seen bebe's kids? imagine that.

something like this....

-----

"i want the shipment moved no later than—" the sound of an object crashing and shattering interrupts roman, the speaker shutting his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.

third.

this is the third goddamn interruption in under half an hour, and there is no doubt in roman's mind that the cause is the same as it was the prior two times.

and judging by the look on jey's face, he thinks the same too.

standing up, he turns his body toward the house and calls out, "hey, what ya'll doing!"

jimmy snorts and takes a sip of his beer. "ain't it obvious? breaking shit."

jey shoots his twin a look that's the equivalent of 'shut the fuck up' as jey moves onto requesting the presence of his unruly children. "ya'll, get out here now!"

at that, roman scowls. "can't you go to them?" roman could go the rest of his life without being around jey's children, and having already had the displeasure of interacting with them twice today thus far, he's reached his max.

jey starts to offer a rebuttal, reminding his cousin that it was roman who wanted to have the meeting at someone's place other than his. something about the twins being 'destructive'.

it's not like they didn't pay for the repairs on the maserati.

roman grabs his own beer, downing the rest as one by one, the result of jey not being smart enough to use a condom—all four times—come running out, mischief written all over their faces.

but, jey is more focused on the black eye on one of his kids, the matted hair of another, and the small cut on the eyebrow on a third kid.

"what the hell done happened to ya'll?" he doesn't wait for a reply, reminding them, "jordan, were you trying to kill josiah again?"

jordan looks just as unremorseful as he feels, defending, "he deserved it!"

at that, roman actually agrees. out of all of jey's wild offspring, josiah has always been the most irritating.

he probably had it coming.

"how many times i gotta tell ya'll? you can only beat each other up to fight, not to kill!" jey blows out a breath, hands over his face. he sounds as exasperated as roman feels. maybe it's worth whatever destruction his cousins cause to just have meetings at his house. that's not as taxing as being around this shit.

journee, a little nicki in training, just has to chime in, pointing like the snitch she is, "he was being a little bitch, daddy!"

"aye!" jey interrupts, voice firm. "what i tell ya'll about all that goddamn cussing?" he doesn't wait for a reply, scolding them yet again, "stop using all that fuckin' language in my motherfuckin' house!"

one of the kids rolls their eyes, the second oldest boy, roman guesses, is quick with a smartass reply. "mama said we ain't gotta listen to you."

"she said what?"

jimmy shakes his head, murmuring to roman as he gazes at the uncovered pool, the sun reflecting off the lights at the bottom. "here we go...."

"she said you a bit—"

"that's enough!" jey marches over to the table, snatching his phone and mumbling to roman and his twin about being 'right back.' the last thing that's heard is jey laying into nicki, "who the hell you think you are telling my kids—what was that? bitch, i know you not with ole' dude again! man, i'll kill his ass and make you watch!"

the kids, thankfully, disperse back into the house.

roman is ready to pass on his parting words to jimmy and be the fuck gone. the desire for a good workout—or fucking—growing by the second. he might have to hit up sasha. sam was on that shit last time, and he's already in a foul mood.

but, a tug on his sleeve prevents him from doing that, roman's disdain painted over his handsome face. "what?" he asks, gruffly.

jayla rolls her brown eyes and only extends out her open palm. "my birthday is next month."

"and?" roman's more likely to wish jey's youngest daughter a 'happy accidental existence' day than 'happy birthday.'

however, she's undeterred, reminding, "my money?"

that, however, makes roman chuckle. he'd almost forgotten that out the four, she happens to be his favorite unfavorite. he don't like none of him, but she's not as intolerable as the rest. and her hustle is impressive.

pulling out his wallet, he asks, "how old you turning? 5?"

"i'm turning 7, uncle roman." she scoffs, maybe to herself, or him. "old people...."

at that, roman pauses, "you want the money or what, kid?"

she looks down, sheepishly, as roman counts out three hundred dollar bills, laying them in her waiting hand. "there. now don't bother me again until next year."

it's an easy request for the almost 7 year old, her eyes wide as she imagines all the robux she'll be able to get.

stuffing the money into her pocket, she nods and offers appreciation. "good to see you, uncle roman." roman shakes his head as jayla moves over to jimmy. "uncle jimmy....."

however, jimmy is not roman. "girl, i ain't got no money."

jayla stays true to her no filter nature. "so you're a broke ass?"

at that, roman turns his head. he actually has to hold back his smile. yeah, jayla might most definitely become his favorite at some point.

"broke ass?" jimmy, of course, fails to see that he's being baited by a damn second grader and yanks out his wallet, counting out a stack of hundreds and giving it to her. "how's that for broke ass?"

jayla looks like she just won the lottery, and at her age, she essentially just did. she doesn't bother with an expression of appreciation before dashing off with all her money.

and roman just watches as recognition dawns on jimmy's face, effectively ridding him of that goofy ass smile. "wait, that was my strip club money." he hops off the stool and goes after his niece. "get back here, you lil samoan wednesday!"

[verycoolusername1]

The Game

Summary: In which Ethan Edwards can't help but pay attention to the drum major of the Umich marching band.

Ethan Edwards x Gn!reader

Warning: I can't really think of any right now

A/N: Yes, I made y/n drum major, something I could only wished to achieve in high school, and I'm a band kid. SO WHAT?? I based this off of my high school band(which isn't competitive but has two drum majors(in this it's just one, I'm giving yn the spotlight- BUT I DO HAVE AN EXCUSE FOR THE OTHER DRUM MAJOR) and like SO many people), so things might be a little bit different, but nonetheless band is band, so let's go!

I never had games during the day so for 3rd quarter break, uhhh they're just getting lunch(which is still pizza cause that's what I always got lmao)

Uhhh and this when the hughes family came to umich for a game, so like recent(Jack's girlfriend isn't in this though at all as I do not support her nor her actions)

I have a cold rn so I'm missing a game today :(

It was his senior year of college. Ethan honestly had no idea how he made it this far, but he was happy it was almost over.

His lungs were on fire for cheering at every touchdown. He had never been more grateful it was now halftime.

"I'm going to concessions, you guys want anything?" Luca asked.

"Nah, I think I'm gonna stay for this." Ethan exclaimed.

"Looks like someone wants to see the cheerleaders." Luca mutters.

Ethan slapped the back of his head, Luca held his hands up in surrender. When Ethan turned his head he was met with a stranger bumping into them.

"Oh gosh I'm so sorry!" They began to apologize.

"It's fine." Ethan rushed out.

This also gave him a moment to observe the person, they weren't in typical clothing but rather the opposite. In uniform that stood out from others.

"That's uh a nice uniform you got there." Ethan cringed mentally at how he sounded.

You chuckled awkwardly. "Thanks." You turned your head. "Sorry I gotta go, uh see you around stranger!"

"It's Ethan!" He called out after you.

"See you around Ethan!" You said your goodbye before running to the field.

Ethan watched you in confusion, you weren't on the football team or atleast not that he knew of but then he saw it. You were with the band.

You stood in front of them on the field while the band was in count out position.

Subconsciously you looked up and met eyes with Ethan, you blushed slightly before remembering why you were there.

"At the ready!"

The band followed your command and got into position, getting quiet while doing so. The crowd got silent too, waiting in anticipation for what to come.

"Band ten hut!"

"Hut!" The band replied.

Ethan watched in amazement as you controlled the band and how they listened to you without a second thought.

You were nervous to say the least, this was the first time you was on the field without James(the other drum major, he had a cold).

The band were making their way towards the opening set of the opener leaving count out position.

Just ten more minutes you told yourself, but it felt longer with Ethan? You think his name was, had his eyes set on you. You couldn't see it but you felt it.

"One, two, one, two, ready, and!" You counted off.

Ethan watched at the band move miraculously as you kept conducting and in time. He could never do that, playing a song from memory and remembering where you went on the field. He never knew how much work the band puts into a ten minute show until now.

Ethan watched you most of the time rather than the actual show. Hell, even when the band came off the field, he was still only staring at you. No cheerleader could pull him away from the drum major.

"Looks like someone caught Ethan's eye." Duke whispered to Luke, who laughed.

Luca came back from concessions with a bag of popcorn and a hotdog.

"Who caught Ethan's eye?" Luca practically yelled, forcing Ethan's eyes to leave you and to his friends.

"No one!" "Someone in the band!" Ethan and Mackie spoke at the same time.

"The drum major?" Luke clarifies.

"What no you can't be serious?" Luca asked. "A band kid?"

"Hey band kids are awesome." Quinn piped up.

"I gotta agree with Quinn there Luca." Jack agreed.

"And this one in particular is good looking." Mark adds.

"You aren't allowed to say that." Ethan muttered.

"Yeah cause only you can." Luke teases.

"Do you know their name?" Jack asks.

"No but they know mine." Ethan began to smile.

"Oh my god, don't even know their name and you're already whipped." Duke laughed.

"Ethan!" You called his name, making him and everyone turn to look at you.

You were used to the attention being drum major and all. But having Ethan and his friends look at you made your stomach churn up butterflies.

You guestered for him to come to the plaza as the band was having their 3rd quarter break. You stifled a laugh as Ethan practically tripped on his own feet trying to get to you.

"Are you okay?" You asked as he reached you.

"Better now." He chucked, out of breath.

"Y/n." You told him.

"Hm?" Ethan looked down at you.

"My name is Y/n." You clarified with a nervous chuckle.

"Oh." Ethan now realized what you meant. "Well then Y/n... halftime was amazing."

The way your name rolled off his tongue made it feel like he'd known you for years. It made your heart swell.

Realizing that you have been staring at him and didn't say anything in reply and you cleared your throat and looked away.

Thankfully before you could say anything, your friend Robin came up to the two of you.

"Hey Y/n and..." Robin eyes widened as she whispered to you, not so subtly. "Oh my god, is this the cute guy you bumped into before halftime?"

You looked at her with a look that read, 'if you don't stop talking imma shut you up myself."

"His name is Ethan." You muttered, not even daring to look up at him as he held an amused look on his face.

Robin nodded slowly before blurting out. "I'm gay! I mean uh- I like woman not men! They said you're cute not me obviously I mean- wait what? Sorry!" She clarifies.

"Robin I love you," You started. "But please leave."

Robin nodded quickly. "Alright yeah got it bye!" She ran off.

"Sorry about her, she tends to over share sometimes." You explained.

"Oh no Luke's like that all the time." Ethan chuckled. "So uh you think I'm cute huh?" He starts to tease.

You muttered an "Oh my god." Before covering your face with your hands.

Ethan laughed again only a bit more softly as he spoke. "Hey it's okay."

"And this is the part where you tell me you have a hot girlfriend back at home." You told yourself, not caring if he heard it.

Ethan frowned at this. "This is actually the part where I tell you I'm single and I would like to get your number."

You snapped your head up at Ethan, shocked.

"You want my number?" You asked him.

He nodded rapidly. "I mean yeah, why wouldn't I want the cute drum majors number?"

Your face grew hot to his words before clearing your throat. "Oh... then uh yeah yeah I can give you my number."

Ethan gave you his phone as you quickly typed your number in and sent a message to yourself.

"Two minutes!" Your band director called out.

"Shit," You cursed under your breath. "I have to go."

"Right." Ethan smiled sadly.

You did as well before you came up with an excellent idea. "Meet me at the band room after the game."

"Uh I would but I have no idea where that is." He explained.

"The band room? Oh I definitely know where that is." Luke suddenly appeared beside him. "I'll make sure he arrives in one piece."

"Thanks Hughes." You chuckles before giving Ethan a soft smile. "Bye Ethan. I'll see you later."

"Band, let's start making our way back now!" You yelled.

"Oh they could totally yell at me like that." Ethan whispered under his breath.

Luca slapped his chest. "Dude this is getting weird."

"Hey uh Luke, how did they know your name?" Mackie asks.

"Well It's complicated." Luke says before quickly adding. "We didn't hookup!"

"You're probably the reason Robin's gay." Ethan muttered as a joke.

"Hey! I heard that!" Luke rolled his eyes.

[halfwayhearted]

Arda Güler fic where he feels you are being distant and starts to overthink which leads to him asking if you were going to break up with him out of nowhere and it causes a small argument…. angst to comfort perhaps. Get back to me as soon as possible. Thank you for your time!☀️

Velvet Mood — Arda Güler.

Pairing: Arda Güler x Fem!Reader

Summary: Something’s on his mind, and you don’t know what it is. You’re determined to find out; you just didn’t think it’d be about whether or not you’re planning to break up with him.

Word Count: 810+

Disclaimer/s — Nothing, angst to comfort!

A/N: I’M ILL. THIS. + their argument wasn’t what I had hoped but I lowkey got stumped so, let’s knock it off. Thank.

Arda was distant. Too distant. It worried you a lot.

It all began when you came home one day, utterly exhausted from a long day at work. You longed for nothing more than a shower, some food, and to collapse into bed. That was all you could muster.

Arda brushed a hand over your hair, and you felt the soft touch of his lips against your temple. “Hey, how was work? I didn’t hear you come in.”

“‘M tired,” you grumbled, “It was very grueling.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Do you want to watch some TV?”

Your eyes flutter shut, and you shake your head in response to his question. “Not now, please.”

It was a small, simple response, yet it had him thinking the absolute worst. Most days, you’d agree and just fall asleep with your head resting lazily against his chest and your legs thrown over his lap. But to receive a ‘Not now, please’?

It was… different. He didn’t quite like it at all.

Since then, the things you used to do were starting to become memories. A simple thought now captured the feeling of contentment.

You tried to talk to him. He simply brushed it off. Brushed you off. In all honesty, you were slowly becoming tired of it. Day by day. Like a routine.

Today would likely end the same way. You’d try to talk to him, he’d give you nothing to work with, and then you’d call it a night. You’ve fought. Maybe not subtly, but you still fought. Tried to.

“Arda,” you started softly, “How was your day?”

His eyebrows raised for just a split second before he shrugged his shoulders. You saw the way his jaw clenched, it confused you. “It was fine. You?”

“Fine, too. Can… I want to talk to you about—”

That was when he uttered your name, cutting you off, “Listen, are you going to break up with me?”

What? You voiced your exact thoughts, “What?”

“Are you?” He echoed, his voice firm. Though you could tell he was clearly upset. Arda was upset.

You were at a complete loss for words. The only question that escaped your lips, filled with curiosity, was, “Where is this coming from? Did I do something, Arda? I need you to talk to me.”

Did I do something, you had asked. He could’ve laughed. “Did you? Or, did I do something.”

“No, you didn’t do anything. Where is this—I’m confused, why is this even a question? I love you, you know that. So, where is this coming from?”

“Don’t give me that,” the man sighed, averting his gaze. “You’ve changed. You seem tired. Tired with me. Of me. And if that’s the case, I need to know.”

‘Tired of me.’ Tired of him? You were never tired of him. You never have been, and you were sure you never would be. Ever. Your job had been weighing you down, of course, but you never thought it’d slowly but surely impact your relationship like this with your boyfriend. It never crossed your mind.

You felt a crushing weight of guilt in your heart.

Taking a step toward him, you began, “I’m not tired of you. And… no, I’m not breaking up with you. God, never that, okay? I’ve been working extra hours, and it’s starting to take its toll on me. I didn’t mean to put you in that position. I don’t want you to keep thinking that. Trust me when I say that I love you. Because I do. So much.”

His expression softened at your explanation. You weren’t planning on breaking up with him. Arda couldn’t help but feel a little foolish. He knew the promotion you got would have its effect. He just didn’t realize how worn out it’d make you.

It all started to make sense. Oh, how dumb.

The brunette felt his entire body relax and let out a breath. “I’m sorry. I should’ve just asked you. I didn’t mean to just let it out. Put you on the spot.”

“No, no, hey, I’m glad that you did,” you assured, quickly lifting your hand and using it to cup his jaw. “I’m glad that you did. I wouldn’t have found out how you felt. How about we make one of those calendars? We can set, like, dates, and days where it’ll be dedicated to just us. How’s that?”

“You’d let me know if you’re too tired for them?”

A smile slowly spread across your face, “I would.”

Arda hums softly at that, leaning down to place a gentle peck to your temple. He slowly wrapped his arms around you, drawing you closer to him.

“I’m really starting to hate your job,” he muttered.

And you laughed. Of course he did. He would. All you did was let out a laugh, “But, you love me.”

The Güler man hummed once more, “I love you.”

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated ^_^.

DT(s) — @pedrilcvr ! ౨ৎ

[metamorphesque]

ASALA: VAN Operation, September 24 (part 2)

Please, make sure to read the first part.

Though violence is condemned, it is the cruel truth that it is the only language to which the world listens.

Armenian Secret Army for the Liberation of Armenia (ASALA) is an Armenian underground organization, the aim of which is bringing the Armenian Question into the international political and legal dimension, and liberation of Western Armenia.

Now, why am I telling you about this today? Well, today - on September 24th marks the 43rd anniversary of the Van Operation (24/09/1981), carried out by 4 Armenian ASALA soldiers - Vazgen Sislyan, Hakob Julfayan, Gevorg Gyuzelyan and Aram Basmajyan. 

On this day in 1981, four Armenian youths, aged 20-24, armed with pistols, automatic rifles, and explosives, seized the turkish consulate in Paris, holding it under their control for 15 hours.

4 Soldiers of The Van Operation taking off their masks

I will do my best to walk you through the operation hour by hour:

At 10 a.m., in two groups (Gevorg Kyuzeleyan-Aram Pasmajyan, Vazgen Sislyan-Hakob Julfayan), the young men headed to the “Balzac” café, where they were set to meet and enter the consulate.

At 10:55, the two groups met and reorganized (Vazgen-Aram and Gevorg-Hakob);

by 11:15, they had entered the consulate. Each took their designated position. Vazgen covered the door while Aram, showing a bomb, shouted that the consulate had been taken over by ASALA's "Yeghia Keshishyan Suicide Commando." Gevorg repeated the same message in French. A turkish policeman attacked Gevorg, leading to an exchange of gunfire in which the policeman was killed (he was the only fatality). The other turkish guards were disarmed. Gevorg called several newspapers and news agencies, informing them that the operation was carried out by ASALA for political reasons, and that the consulate was under their control with 59 hostages. Initially, the news agencies did not believe the claim, as it seemed impossible that four people could seize the consulate located on the second floor of a five-story building, especially given that the entire building was under French police control and the consulate itself was guarded by turkish security. The French news agency “AFB” responded, saying that theoretically, any institution in Paris could be seized, but the turkish and israeli consulates were impossible to take over, even in theory.

About an hour after the operation began, journalists gathered on Hosman Street. Meanwhile, a French policeman entered the building from the back and shot Vazgen, wounding him. Vazgen resisted and forced the officer to retreat. Hakob was also wounded, and his injuries were severe. Most of the hostages were guarded by Aram, while Vazgen told the others about the Armenian people's struggle and the 1915 massacres.

At noon, Commissioner Brousard, one of the most skilled experts in the French police, requested negotiations over the phone. Papers outlining the group's demands were thrown out of the window. The demands were purely political: the release of Armenian, Kurdish and Turkish political prisoners held in turkish prisons.

At 12:15, one of the hostages approached the window, threw a letter down, and informed the police that the message was for them. The street had already been cordoned off with iron barricades. Reporters had gathered on the sidewalk in front of the consulate.

At 1:00 p.m., one of the hostages was instructed to approach the window again and drop a new letter, this time for the reporters.

At 1:40 p.m., the police requested that the hostages on the upper floors be allowed to move downstairs. The young men agreed, but Gevorg approached the window and informed the police that bombs were placed at all the entrances of the consulate, warning them not to attempt any attacks.

At 2:20 p.m., a French hostage who had a heart condition was provided with medication as his condition had worsened.

At 3:00 p.m., arrangements were made for the children of the hostages to return home from school.

At 4:00 p.m., Vazgen’s condition deteriorated, and medical assistance was requested over the phone from the police. The police refused the request.

At 4:10 p.m., one of the turkish hostages approached the window, declaring that the deputy consul was wounded and might die if no doctor was sent, placing responsibility on the police.

At 4:20 p.m., a doctor arrived but refused to go upstairs out of fear.

At 4:25 p.m., they contacted the police again, demanding political asylum ("asile politique") for Vazgen. The police entered into negotiations with the Ministry of Internal Affairs.

At 5:35 p.m., there was no official statement about "asile politique." One of the hostages approached the window and declared that if "asile politique" was not granted, the lives of the deputy consul and the hostages would be in danger.

At 5:55 p.m., the police officially announced on behalf of the Ministry of Internal Affairs that "asile politique" would be granted if the deputy consul was released.

At 6:20 p.m., Vazgen entered negotiations with the police over the terms of his surrender. He demanded that upon arriving at the hospital, he be allowed to speak with his comrades by phone. The police initially refused but later relented.

At 6:35 p.m., Vazgen left the consulate. The police tried to put him in an ambulance, but Vazgen resisted, standing on the sidewalk and raising the victory "V" sign with his right hand. Gevorg waited behind the window with a hostage. Vazgen tried to shout but was too weakened by blood loss. Soon after he was taken to the hospital.

At 6:50 p.m., Vazgen spoke with his comrades from the hospital and was taken to surgery.

At 7:15 p.m., food was requested for the hostages.

At 7:53 p.m., the body of the turkish policeman was removed. Interestingly enough, the hostages that were assigned to remove the body, willingly went back in after doing so, firmly deciding to stand by the cause.

At 9:00 p.m., turkish protesters tried to approach the consulate. Gevorg, Aram and Hakob threatened to throw grenades. The police halted the protest, which had about 2,000 participants. On the opposite side of the street, Armenians were also demonstrating.

At 10:10 p.m., food was delivered by the police.

At 11:00 p.m., the police demanded negotiations several times, but the group refused.

At 11:15 p.m., the deadline set by the young men for meeting their demands passed, and the noise from the turkish protesters became more frenzied.

At 11:20 p.m., gunfire was heard inside the consulate. At midnight, it was reported from inside that another wounded soldier wished to surrender, for whom "asile politique" was again demanded.

At 12:50 a.m., the police announced that the French government had decided to grant the right of political asylum to the second fighter.

At 1:00 a.m., the police were informed that the wounded fighter, like Vazgen, should descend and remain on the street. Hakob Julfayan exited. Heavily wounded, he was unable to stand on the street.

At 1:20 a.m., Hakob called his comrades from the hospital and was taken to surgery.

At 1:30 a.m., Gevorg negotiated with the police, demanding "asile politique" for the remaining fighters. The police declared that all four fighters had been granted that right. The only issue left was how they would surrender. The police demanded that they lay down their weapons and come out. Gevorg and Aram refused. At the same time, the hostages declared that if the fighters surrendered in such a manner, the police would open fire on them. By now, the hostages fully understood why the operation was happening; the boys had shared the harrowing history of the 1915 Armenian Genocide and the countless other atrocities. So, when ASALA fighters Gevorg and Aram were ready to leave, the female hostages, of their own accord, surrounded the two in an effort to shield them from being shot by the police. This same pattern can be observed in many of ASALA’s operations: hostages, journalists, and even those injured during the operations later became supporters of the Armenian Cause.

At 2:20 a.m., Gevorg and Aram surrendered. After holding 59 hostages for more than 15 hours, the four fighters of the Armenian Secret Army for the Liberation of Armenia (ASALA) entered into negotiations with the turkish government, mediated by the French government. Naturally, the turkish government did not meet their demands.

However, it was the trial of these four soldiers that painted the operation in colors of victory. It was the first political trial since the 1921 trial of Soghomon Tehlirian. The trial of the four fighters became a platform for condemning Turkey for its crimes against humanity.

The Armenian cause was vigorously defended by a constellation of prominent lawyers in France, including Leclerc, Tejan, Signar, Patrick Devedjian, Aslanyan and Peshtimaljian.

Entering the court smiling, the handcuffed defendants all made the victory "V" sign with their hands. Defendant Kevork Guzelian told the court: "Whatever your verdict, our action is already a victory."

At the trial, the widow of France’s national hero, Missak Manouchian, Mrs. Meliné, delivered a speech condemning genocidal Turkey, and with the judge’s permission, kissed the foreheads of the four fighters, an exception made especially for her. Letters from Charles Aznavour and Henri Verneuil were also read. The singer Liz Saryan was also present at the hearings. The benevolent attitude of the president of the court was remarkable, who throughout the trial urged the audience to refrain from labeling the action of ASALA as “terrorism” and the heroes of the brigade as “terrorists”. They might have been labeled as terrorists, but their actions had nothing to do with terrorism; they were part of a struggle for liberation from an occupying genocidal state. Would anyone call the partisans of Belarus, France, Greece or Yugoslavia, who fought against fascism, terrorists, too?

“It is very important that the society understands the essence of the case, the origins of the Armenian question. Terrorism and genocide are what was committed against the Armenian people, but the people sitting in front of us are not terrorists, they are the descendants of the victims of terrorism and genocide," — said Devejian during the first court hearing

The long trial of the battle group was in itself a great anti-turkish war. The trial of “VAN” turned into a trial of the Turkish government.

The “VAN” operation and the political trial that followed it played a major role in bringing the Armenian issue to the international political arena, globalizing the territorial claim and the violated rights of the Armenian people, creating a new wave of condemnation of the reality of the Armenian genocide, strengthening the pride and spirit of struggle among Armenians.

The four fighters– Vasken Sako Sislian, Kevork Abraham Guzelian, Aram Avedis Basmajian and Hagop Abraham Dzhulfayan – were convicted on 31 January 1984 to 7 years in prison (including the years of their stay in detention pending trial). During the reading of the verdict, the majority of the participants also got up upon hearing the words “accused, stand up”. Singer Rosy Armen sang “Wake Up, Lao”, (a popular Armenian revolutionary folk song) and she was joined by the many voices of those present. In 1986, while still serving their sentence, three of the fighters - Vazgen, Gevorg and Hagop graduated from the Sorbonne University in Paris. Of the four fighters, three survived prison; Aram Basmajyan committed suicide in 1985. He is buried in Père Lachaise Cemetery in Paris (his symbolic grave is located in Yerablur, in the symbolic pantheon of martyrs under the shadow of ASALA’s memorial monument at the entrance to the Armenian Pantheon of Immortals).

Vazgen, Gevorg and Hakob were released early in August 1986 and returned to Lebanon. Years later, all three settled in Armenia. Gevorg Kyuzelian became the commander of the "Metsn Murad" detachment and participated in the Artsakh Liberation War. Vazgen Sislyan also made contributions to the liberation battles.

When all the hope has slipped away, It’s the mad who find a way.