#i’m gonna sucker punch you in the face

[somewhat-exhausted]

honestly I’m kinda too pissed about the lack of Zeb and Kallus in the entirety of Ahsoka to say anything about it at all

[deadghosy]

☆BEING MATTHEO’S CHILDHOOD FRIEND TO LOVER ☆ male version||female version

COMPLETELY protective over you ever since childhood. He literally fought a kid back then because they didn’t like that you were a “girl” playing boy games with them. You were sensitive back then, so of course you cried to mattheo about it. And mattheo did something about it. He punched the kid and stole their teddy bear to give it to you.

He asks you about girl things so he can flirt and treat a girl better. You could be literally reading a romance book, and he wants to learn too. Please teach him or else he’s gonna whine about losing another girl.

“Sooooo what does a girl like for a guy like me to tap that ass…cause I got a girl on my roster..” mattheo says sliding by you in the library table you sat in. You were literally getting to the good part of where the two main characters were gonna kiss. “Why are you asking me these questions riddle…” you say with venom in your tone towards his last name. Mattheo frowned. “Actually my name from you is Matty, Matt, and matty bear. So please—”

“—Please kill yourself and never let your soul rest after.” You say getting up from the library table and walking away. Mattheo’s jaw drop as he followed you offended. He never interrupted your reading time ever.

When your period comes…he’s asking you “what the fuck that is” and “why is it hurting you” with a frown. He’s thinking he can solve it like any other with a wave of his wand…but it’s more complicated when you explained how your uterus is shredding itself and that’s all you can get out before mattheo started to gag and leave your dorm room like the overdramatic king he is.

He still loves you dearly so he got you tea and some materials you need for the rest of your week.

Sometimes when you two have a sleepover, which is just either of you two sneaking into the girls dorms or the boys. You two gossip like little girls ready to rip someone’s heart out.

Mattheo is 50/50 on you doing makeup on him. But if you really plead and want to do it. He’s gonna let you. He can’t say no to you sadly.

A guy had broken your heart once, so he broke his face in…and broke his dick. Don’t ask.

Couple of girls hated how close you were to Mattheo. He’s a handsome guy, so of course people may spread rumors around. And Mattheo doesn’t really like that, he’s going to the girl and showering her how equal rights have hands.

If you two ever argue, it leads to Mattheo apologizing first. He’s a sucker for you, he doesn’t know why. He just doesn’t want you to be mad at him.

It’s even worst when you talk to anyone else than him.

When you fully ignore him, no texting, no calling, not even talking to you in public and being by you makes him go insane. He’s smoking in the courtyard. Jaw tightened as he eyes you across. He can tell that you know he is staring. He can tell you know indeed when you shift a lot.

The way you feel his burning gaze on you, it made you feel warm. You always loved mattheo, but with him always “going after” girls…you just thought that maybe he wouldn’t love you back.

Jealousy is something mattheo has built into him. He doesn’t know why, so when a ravenclaw student tried to ask you out. He couldn’t stand it. He had to take you away. He couldn’t bare to lose you. He ushered you away from the student, taking you to an empty classroom. He couldn’t handle not being near you, he hated it the most. You are his other part.

He hates it.

“I don’t know who that guy was. But you’re mine. Okay? You’re mine, you always have been even if we both didn’t recognize it. Shit, I know I’m dumb to think to just push my feelings away from you. But I can’t help but love how you are so amazing…” he says slowly at the end. Kissing your head and closing his eyes. You smile slowly. Your heart swell with warmth, taking a deep breath in as you wrapped your arms around him too. You loved him just like how he loves you. He loves you as if you were the made the creation of his favorite food. He loved you like making new potions. He loved you like music to his ears.

He always has been a gentleman before you two dated. He made sure he opened doors for you. He made sure you were comfortable with things. He would even sacrifice his cloaks if you were cold.

He’s like a puppy in love as he just lights up seeing you.

He loves his girl very much. You are the prettiest thing he could ever ask and give for.

[luveline]

Maybe colt comforting reader when things for her film aren’t going right 🫶🏽🫶🏽

Colt comes to your rescue (clumsily) when you have a hard day. fem!reader, 1k words

Very minor plot spoilers for The Fall Guy (2024) if any

“I think he’s mad at you.” 

You pause where you’d been scrubbing your eyes with your hands, though you don’t look at him. Colt Seavers seems to follow you everywhere you go, and consequently plays witness to your many breakdowns. “Thanks, Colt. That’s astute.” 

“Are you mad at me? Why are you mad at me? It’s been ten seconds,” he complains. He has a unique talent for sounding flirty and needy at once. 

“No, Colt. I’m tired, it’s been a long day.” 

Colt is grinning when you meet his eyes. He has blood, fake or real undetermined, drying in the scruff of his facial hair. You gesture to yourself in a slow circle in the approximate area, to which Colt smiles again. 

“You look perfect,” he says confidently. 

“You have blood in your beard.” 

“Oh, right.” 

You sigh heavily, taking the few paces back to a stack of safety mattresses for a quick break. You’ll get up and help whoever needs helping as soon as you can feel your toes. Colt stays where he is, squinting against the sun, strands of blonde ends kissing his tan forehead. The summer shoots are good for him, he always looks so beachy. You’re exhausted all the time. 

As he notices. “Are you getting enough sleep?” he asks. 

“Yeah.” 

“‘Cos I was sleeping badly and then I got this new mattress that has four hybrid layers, there’s a foam layer, and then there’s titanium springs,” —he sees your distant expression and his own flickers— “anyways, you could try it if you want. Test it out with me. Or– Not with me. With me if you want. We’d have fun. But not with me if you don’t want to.” 

You’d laugh if you had the energy. “Do you wanna sit down?” you ask. 

“God, yes, please.” 

He has another talent for being insanely handsome no matter the day. You look like you’ve been badly rewarmed before serving, where he looks like he rolled out of bed with a smile. He’s smiling at you now, the foolish kind that’ll fluster you if you let him do it for too long. “Stop,” you say quietly. 

“You’re doing amazing.” 

“Thank you. You’re the only person who thinks so, unfortunately.” 

You smile at him weakly. Worried you look pathetic, you turn your face to your lap and clasp your fingers together. 

“That’s not true. Mayview is old-fashioned, that’s all, he was around when they were still killing horses on TV.” 

You grimace. “Yikes.”

“But it’s the modern era. He doesn’t get to make you feel like shit, or I’ll make him feel like shit.” He pretends to charge a sucker punch. 

You lean forward a touch, not quite hugging your knees but tempted to fold in on yourself nonetheless, the heat of the sun a memory on your neck as the evening begins and cloud cover floods in. 

The safety mattresses beneath you squeak and shush against each other. Your weight and Colt’s slides together slowly. He might be pushing himself a little with his boot, but you pretend not to notice as his hand comes to rest between your shoulders. 

“I just can’t do anything right,” you mumble. 

As soon as you’ve said it you’re hoping he can’t hear you, but he does. He might have injured pretty much anything that can be fractured, sprained, or just plain broken, but he has stellar hearing. “You do everything right. You do!” he says, quietly and passionately at once, “They don’t realise it, but you’re the glue keeping this whole thing together.” 

“What are you?” you ask, bemused.

His hand is warm on your shoulder, unafraid where he hesitates to answer, “I don’t know. The test dummy? The guy who gets set on fire a lot?” 

“How is that?” 

“Warm,” he says, beaming, his face so unexpectedly close that you can see the glucose shining in the blood on his cheek. Fake blood. “You wanna try it? I’m sure I could convince the guys.” 

“No, I’m okay.” 

His voice turns silky. “Good, I wasn’t gonna let you anyway.” 

“Let me?” 

“You could get hurt.”

You give in, melted maybe by his warm tones, or exhausted by a day of playing mom for a director who can barely tell his left from his right. Your face presses to his shoulder and your spine sags under his hand, prompting Colt to pull you flush against his side. He always waits for your signals for stuff like this, no matter how desperate he might confess to being. “Can you make them all leave me alone?” you mumble into his jacket, the fabric rough against your nose. 

“Obviously I can, but… We could run away.” 

“Where would we go?” 

“I don’t know. Somewhere sunny. You can rub sunblock on my back, I can hold the umbrella over your head while you read.” 

“They have stands for that sort of stuff. Or you can shove it in the sand, you know.”

“I wanna do something nice for you,” he interrupts, the sound of a smile in his voice as he gives you a friendly jostle. “That’s the point.” 

“You’re plenty nice, Colt.” 

And he is. He saw you were upset and he came jogging upto you valiantly, and your side-armed cuddle is really pushing the pep back into your life. You take a few deep breaths under the weight of his arm before turning to him, brave, ready to go back to work if it means he’s gonna drive you home tonight. “Thank you for caring.” You kiss his cheek, careful of the fake blood. “You’re super nice.” 

You miss the heat of him the second you stand, but there really is work to do. 

“I’m super nice?” he calls. “How nice is super? Nice enough to get another one of those, or what? Are they by the metre?” 

You bite back a smile. 

“Hello? Can you hear me?” He must catch someone’s eye. “She can’t hear me. It’s cool. We like each other.” 

Nobody saves face quite like Colt. 

[bitsandbobsandstuff]

Keep your eyes on the road (aka an unexpected sex pollen adventure)

Summary: Honestly, this is what Bucky gets for not listening to you.

Characters: Bucky x Reader

Words: 2.8k

Warnings: SMUT 18+ only. Oral sex while driving, sex pollen, sex in a car, bad language, Bucky desperately needing to bang. Also please do not try to replicate this unless you are in fact with a super soldier who has super reflexes, as blow jobs while driving should probably be attempted by super people. 

A/N: Is this really my first time writing sex pollen? Yes it is. Is Bucky being needy and desperate kinda fun? Yes it is. Did I enjoy writing this? Yes I most certainly did. I hope you enjoy it too. ;)

*****

The thing is, you told him you didn’t feel like coming on this mission.

And you told him not to open that container with the giant blood red skull on it. 

And you told him to to wear a mask.

And you told him to let you drive, but he shouted something about you being a passenger princess before unceremoniously shoving you in the getaway car.

So yeah. You told him all these things.

The thing is, Bucky fumes, glaring at the swerve of headlights advancing in his rearview mirror - he really needs to learn how to fucking listen.  

“Shit, shit, shit!” He slams the accelerator to the floor and the car gives a sickening lurch. Beside him, you crack your head on the window, trying to buckle your seatbelt and swearing at the top of your lungs. 

“Bucky what the hell’s the matter with you? Just drive.” 

“I’m trying,” he snaps. He can feel the flushing prickle of sweat beading down his neck. Rubbing a shaking hand down his face, he blows out a harsh breath. “Why in god’s name is the heater on? Turn that shit off, I’m burning up over here.”

Craning your neck, you watch the headlights gaining. Fumbling for the Glock taped under the seat, you shoot him a confused look. 

“The heater isn’t on, it’s freezing in here. I told Steve to fix it and he ignored me because he's a giant asshole.”

Eyes locked on the road, Bucky reaches blindly for the window handle, hurriedly rolling it down. A blast of cold air rushes through the car and he gulps in relief.

“Better, much better,” he mutters. He squints into the rearview mirror again, mentally calculating the time between headlights and taillights, when he feels a twisting wrench in his chest. It sends bursts of heat skimming under his skin, snagging every nerve along the way. A panicked whine slips through clenched teeth. Alarmed, you turn back and meet his wild eyes, sweat now pouring down his face.   

“What the - what’s wrong? Bucky? Talk to me!” 

When you grab his arm, he visibly recoils. 

“No no no, don’t touch me, don’t - ah holy fuck, don’t touch me. If you do, I can’t - I’m gonna put the car in the ditch.” 

“You’re scaring me Bucky, what is this?”

He says nothing, deep in thought as his brain runs through the mission on warp speed, trying to identify something, anything, that could possibly -

Wait.

Oh.

Crap.

It's like a sucker punch when he realizes.

“The gold dust that flew out of that container, did any of it touch you?”

“You mean the one I told you not to open but you did it anyway because you can’t follow directions? Bucky what is wrong, you need-“

“Answer me,” he snarls. In the dashboard glow, you see his face pale. He blinks rapidly, trying to focus. “Sorry, sorry, just - please answer. Did any of it get on your skin?”

Baffled, you shake your head.

“No. None of it touched me, it just hit you.” 

Bucky nods, relieved. 

“Good, okay. Okay. Think I know what this is,” he grits out. Another shudder wracks his body and he grips the steering wheel so hard it squeals in protest. “HRNE-75.”

Your response is a blank stare.

“Am I supposed to know what random letters and numbers mean?”

“It’s a stimulant.” 

“Like caffeine?”

“No, like a drug.” You can hear him breathing faster. “Like a - like an aphrodisiac.”

Still a blank stare.

“What kind of aphrodisiac?”

“People call it sex pollen,” he says flatly. “It makes you horny. Like - really fucking horny. And it hurts like hell unless you do something about it.”

“Well, okay. We’ll figure that out when we get home, but for now - “

“I can’t - I don’t think I can wait until we get home,” he interrupts. Sweat soaks the collar of his shirt and he shifts uncomfortably, glancing down. Following his gaze, you can see his cock straining against his jeans. 

“Jesus Christ. Bucky if you’re in pain, just pull over and let me drive, you can jerk off in the backseat.”

“We don’t have time to pull over, that fucker’s right behind us and if we don’t get us past Steve’s stupid check point, we’re gonna lose him and then the whole mission is wasted and I got sprayed by some bullshit horny dust for no reason and I’m sweating so much right now and I think I’m going to throw up, my dick hurts so fucking bad!” 

His voice reaches an hysterical pitch and you press your lips together, choking down the laughter. 

“Okay okay, I got it. So if you come, does that stop the pain?”

“Yeah, but doesn’t matter,” his shoulders slump miserably. “We can’t stop yet and I can’t jerk off and drive at the same time. Maybe under normal circumstances I could do it, I mean sure I have done that before because sometimes I get bored driving, but I just don’t have that kind of focus right now baby, I don’t.” 

Tremors are rattling through his entire body now, as he fights for control. As he shifts his hips, unconsciously searching for some kind of friction to offer relief, an idea pops into your brain.     

“Hey. Let me give you road head.” 

His hands slip on the wheel and he double-takes. 

“Wha - road head? Like - what does that mean? Like you’d give me a blow job? While I’m driving?”

If this were any other situation, you would tease him mercilessly for the way his voice squeaks, but you smother the urge. Plenty of time for that later.   

“Of course. If it helps.”

“But you mean, you’re going to suck my dick? While I’m driving?”

“Love the emphasis on the important words. Yes, I’m going to suck your dick, while you’re driving.”

Bucky bats the idea around, debating whether you’re actually serious and whether he is probably definitely going to drive down a highway at - he checks the speedometer - 145 miles per hour, while you suck his dick. Another wave of heat roils through him and he stifles a groan. Glancing at your expectant face, he gives a shaky nod.

“You’re sure?”

Rolling your eyes, you unbuckle your seatbelt and scoot closer to him.

“It’s not a hardship Buck. You know I’m your dick’s number one fan.” Carefully popping the button on his jeans, you tug down his zipper and he pushes up his hips, struggling to help. The slight pressure on his aching cock already has him whimpering. “Just drive careful, alright? If I die because you wreck Steve’s car while I’m sucking your dick, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Yeah, yeah, fine,” Bucky breathes. “Careful. Sure. Whatever you say.”

Grasping him firmly, you lower your head and take his dick all the way down in one smooth move.

“Oh my fucking god,” he shouts, eyes fluttering. “Sweet shit that’s good!” 

He keeps one hand in a death grip on the wheel, while he places the other against the back of your neck, keeping you firmly in place. Bobbing up and down, your tongue strokes along the ridges of his cock and you feel him swelling impossibly thicker. Tightening your lips, you suck hard, dragging slowly up  and he croaks out a garbled plea.   

“Keep going, keep going, please keep going.” Beneath your practiced mouth, his entire body begins to vibrate and he grips the back of your neck tight, chanting desperately. “I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come, holy fuck, I’m gonna come.”

He thrusts up, holding your head tight as he comes down your throat. When your fingers scratch along his thigh, his foot inadvertently pushes the accelerator harder. The car climbs to 155 miles per hour and above you, the sound of ragged panting fills the car. 

Releasing his dick with a soft lick, you look up and Bucky chokes at the sight of your spit slick, swollen lips curving into a smile.

“That was fast. Feel better?”

He breathes a whispered yes, but you can still see the red flush still spreading down his neck. He swallows hard and grimaces.  

“Helped. Definitely helped. Still hurts, but better,” he says faintly and you see his cock is still rock hard. “It’s okay, it’s enough for now, I appreciate the - “

Rolling your eyes, you lean down and take him back in your mouth. Slipping a hand between his legs, your fingers carefully cup the heavy weight of his balls, squeezing gently. The rest of his sentence fades, melting into a rush of fervent praise.

A luscious ache settles in your belly, feeding off the hot desire you feel sparking through him, at the filthy words you hear him whispering above you. If you weren’t driving down a pitch black highway at a completely inappropriate speed, you’d consider reaching down to take care of yourself, but since you’re already flouting the most basic rules of automotive safety, you figure you should keep your hands on Bucky’s balls instead.

Of course, that doesn’t stop you from rubbing your thighs together to try and relieve some of the pressure. 

Bucky glances over at your movement, a deep growl rumbling in his chest at the sight. He didn’t think anything could make him harder at this point, but the image of you so turned on by giving him a blow job, does the trick. He grinds his teeth, dangerously close to just pulling over and saying fuck this ridiculous mission. Rubbing his hand between your flexing shoulder blades and slowly bobbing head, his rasping voice carves into you.

“Does this make you feel good? Doin’ this for me? Fuck me, wish I could help you out right now. You’re so damn good to me baby. Moment we stop this car, I’m gonna fuck you so good.”

With his dick buried deep in your throat, your enthusiastic hum of agreement vibrates deliciously and he struggles to keep his eyes on the road. Everything feels incredible. Your tongue curling around the head of his cock, sucking gently on the tip, before sliding back down. The way you swallow around him, the squeeze of your throat, so hot and slick and tight. It feels so god damn good and he’s close again, one more second - 

The transmitter sitting in the console squawks to life, an ear piercing siren shocking you both from the lust fueled haze. You jerk off Bucky’s dick in a panic and he nearly screeches at the loss. Scrabbling with the device, he smashes the green TALK button.

“What?! What the fuck do you need, I’m busy.”

“Calm down there, speed racer,” comes Steve’s breezy voice. “Just letting you know we pulled the guy over. Turn around and come back so we can - “

Steve’s voice is abruptly silenced when Bucky crushes the transmitter with an easy squeeze of vibranium fingers. He flings the shattered splinters of plastic into the back seat and slams both feet on the brakes. The car fishtailes across the road, before skidding to a stop in a spray of gravel. Throwing it into park, he flips the lever under his seat and slides back with a mechanical thunk. Scrambling to pull his pants down all the way, he spreads his legs wide and takes his dick in hand. His eyes are dark, blown black when he turns to you.

“We’re safe. Get your pants off and get over here. Now.” he barks. 

Grinning at him, you tug on your tac pants, shimmying easily from the stretchy black fabric and clambering into his lap. There is no pretense. Bucky lines himself up and yanks you down, filling your cunt in one rough thrust. You’re so wet, he slides in easy. 

“God, Bucky,” you hiss. “That feels so good.”

He tugs on your shirt, pulling everything off until your breasts are bared. His mouth finds a nipple, teeth gently scrapping and tugging, greedily sucking the sensitive peak between his lips. He moves your hips faster, lifting and dragging you down on his cock over and over, until he jerks you down one final time, slams his head against the seat and comes with a long, guttural moan. Deep inside, you feel him pulsing over and over, until you can feel it dripping down your thighs, hot and sticky. 

Head tipped back, he struggles to catch his breath and you can see his heartbeat jumping wildly at his throat. When he finally opens his eyes to meet your questioning stare, you can see.

His eyes are still dark. 

“Need more?” You smile gently, smoothing sweaty hair from his forehead.

He swallows hard and then nods slowly.  

Rocking your hips, you grind down on him and lean in for a deep kiss, sliding your tongue against his. Bucky gives a shuddering sigh, sinking back into the feel of your body rolling against his. Warm hands stroke lightly down your spine and you can feel the thick, heavy weight of him growing hard again between your legs. But waring with the pleasure, a nervous tension seems to grip him.

“Bucky. I’m not made of glass,” you admonish. Licking delicately along his earlobe, he mumbles a string of apologies and your lips trail down his neck, pressing a kiss against that fluttering heartbeat. “You won’t hurt me, I promise. Use me however you need. Make yourself feel good. Just make me come before you’re done. Deal?”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay,” he says, shivering uncontrollably at the heady combination of your cool breath and fiery words. “I can do that. ‘Course I’ll do that.”

His hands slide up your back and hook over your shoulders, his fingers splayed over your collarbone. He holds your body firmly in place, thrusting up into you and simultaneously rocking your hips forward. The angle is perfect and you moan at the feel, dizzy with desire as his cock rubs that spot inside just right. 

The sounds filling the car are purely pornographic. Wet skin slapping, Bucky grunting with every hard snap of his hips. The feel of his calloused fingertips stroking up your belly, between your breasts, pressing divots into your skin. He stares up at you, his eyes heavy and hooded and utterly adoring, relishing the sight of you grinding your pussy against him. His hand slips between your legs, stroking over your clit, rubbing fast tight circles. He smugly drinks down the breathless gasps he coaxes from you.   

“Bucky, I think - I think I’m - ”

The words falter when your hand slams into the car roof and your head falls back, eyes drifting closed. Lust slaps him hard as he watches you come, writhing above him, your voice cracking when you moan out his name again and again.  

“That's it, there you go baby,” he whispers roughly. The vision is breathtaking. Stunning. He figures maybe he could get used to sex pollen and a perpetually aching dick if it means he gets to see you like this.

He was already close (again), but the pure pleasure in your face is enough to knock him over the edge. He buries his face between your breasts, pinching your nipple and licking over your skin and your fingers tangle in his damp hair. You hold him tight as he gasps out your name, emptying himself inside you one more time.

And this time, finally, you can feel some of the spring tight tension disappear. His skin is still hot, but the shivers begin to diminish. Rough hands still grip your hips, but it feels controlled. The manic lust begins to fade, leaving a smoldering fire in his chest.   

Bucky tips a weary head back and meets your amused expression. A smile tugs the corner of his lips and he shakes his head. 

“God damn,” he sighs.

Scratching your nails lazily along his scalp, he leans into your touch, humming like a contented, if slightly feral, kitten. 

“Feel better?”

“So much better,” he murmurs. “Sorry that went completely sideways. Wasn’t really expecting that. Obviously enjoyed it, but still. Unexpected adventure.”

Pressing a kiss to his forehead you laugh.

“Next time, maybe don’t open the can with the giant red skull on it. Deal?”

“Deal.”

A comfortable silence settles. Bucky trails his fingers down your arms and you eye him thoughtfully.

“So, do you think they’ll come looking for us?”

“Maybe. Eventually. What should we do while we wait?”

There is a moments pause. And then you begin to roll your hips against him again and Bucky feels the electricity flare to life once more.

“We keep going.”

*****

[itaintgojover]

COMPATIBILITY TEST

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ feat. !Frat Boy! Gojo fucks you outside at his party. douchey gojo asks to see how compatible you guys are after you tell him you cant stand him. i wonder what he means...

-`♡´cw: 18+!!!! unprotected sex (be safe guys lol), creampie, oral m and f receiving, fingering, dirty talk, orgasm denial, mention of threesome, voyeurism ??, panty thief, drug usage

-`♡´word count: 3.8k

ps. i did not proofread this

The hot, bright beams slowly clouded your vision with dark green spots. The scent of sweat and pheromones filled the air while you and some stranger attempted to dance, but too far gone to worry if anyone was watching. It was simple: Night after night,  the douchiest of the frat guys would hit you up and practically beg for you to show up at their “rager”. If it weren't for your friend constantly begging, you would spend most of your nights probably scrolling through your phone. This night didn't feel particularly different, not until you saw him.

Earlier 

“Y/N pleaseeeeeeeeeeee, this is my one chance to get laid” Your friend cried out almost in tears. 

“Shoko, come on. You said that every other night, we just finished with midterms. I'm fucking tired.” You groaned, exhausted from the weeks of studying.

“Hey, maybe you’ll find someone too. You haven't been with anyone else since Nanami. What even happened between you two, he was literally the perfect man”

The long dreaded question finally popped up. Your ex boyfriend- if you could even call him that- and you had split. He was indeed the “perfect man”. Nanami would always make sure that you were taken care of, always there for you on those late nights when you felt you had no one else. Ideally, you would have liked to end up with him, but unfortunately the stars didn't align for you two. You know he loved you, and you definitely loved him, but you weren’t the one for him, nor he the one for you.

The two of you had realized it early on in your relationship, yet decided to continue whatever you had. It was mutually beneficial, you both got to fill the void of a loved one without being exclusive. It wasn't until recently when you had felt the need to let him go, he felt like a safety net. You weren't ready to completely open yourself up to anyone, but you still wanted the comfort and understanding he provided. It felt like the right thing to do. He told you that he’d always be around if you needed him, and with that you were content. 

“Listen, it's complicated. But me and him are on good terms, happy?” 

“Somewhat, but I'm worried about you babe. I'm not saying you need someone to be happy, but you don't even seem open to the idea. I think it would be good for you to meet someone tonight. Just promise me that you’ll try, okay?”

The look in Shoko’s eyes seemed to be of genuine concern. You begrudgingly nodded your head in affirmation, although doubtful that such a thing would occur. 

You hastily got ready, and you and Shoko arrived at the house. Couples on the lawn shamelessly displaying heinous acts. A myriad of trash thrown around, waiting for the poor sucker the next morning to pick it up. Upon entering it didn't get any better, the same as every other party you’d been to recently. 

“Hey, Y/N!!!” 

A voice suddenly calls your name and you whip your head around to see your friend Itadori along with your other friends Megumi and Nobara. They come over to embrace you and share pleasantries after not seeing each other for a while. 

“Sooooooo, I heard through the grapevine that Y/N’s on the market now. Megs, I think it's finally your chance”

An obviously wasted Nobara says while elbowing Megumi in the ribs and receiving a playful punch back. 

“Hahaha, yeah but don't worry, me and him are good. I think i’m gonna get a drink though I’ll be back soon”

You escape the conversation as soon as you can, the only way you would survive tonight was to get shit faced as fast as you could. 

Hours go by, and instead of you being absolutely wasted, you’re watching Shoko play beer pong with random people who won't stop laughing. Shoko had-to your terror-informed you that your DD for the night bailed. She didn't outright ask you to be mom for the night, but her passive aggressive whines would say otherwise. Being surrounded by intoxicated people while sober was not how you were expecting the night to turn out. You leave shoko alone for a bit, attempting to go and find a restroom after all the soda you had. You wander upstairs passing at least three couples making out, and start rattling each door handle hoping to find a restroom. Most of them were locked or had a tie around the knob signaling that whoever was behind that door, was getting busy. At last though, one of the doors finally opened and instead of seeing the restroom you see a women straddling a man.

You stand there in shock for a moment. The man had his hand gripped onto the woman's ass, tenderly kneading the flesh beneath her skirt, while sucking on her tit ravenously. The two continued to grind onto each other seemingly not aware of your presence. The man’s gaze slowly turns to you and your breath hitches. Blue was all you saw. As bright as a summer day yet he seemed so far away. Almost as if there wasn't currently a women he was ravishing, all his attention was on you. His eyes remain on you while the women in his lap squeals and shoves her fingers into his snow, white hair seeking something to grip for stability.

The sight immobilized you, you knew you should have walked away as soon as you saw them, but something held you back. Your body subconsciously takes a step back creating a loud squeak from the floor to echo through the room. The woman all of a sudden yelps in surprise and covers her chest yelling an angry “get out” at you. 

You rush out of the room feeling your face heat up at the sight you just witnessed. Something about the way his long, slender hands slid up her ass sent shivers through you. It was quiet a foreign feeling, you never would have thought you would feel envy especially over him. 

Gojo Satoru. The well known president of the most famous fraternity on campus, Alpha Beta Kai. He was at the top of everyone’s “people to bang at least once” list. There was not a single girl or guy on campus that didn't want to be involved with him in some way. Stories about him reached far and wide, which is why you (who tried your best not to involve yourself with drama) even knew about him. Last 4th of July, the guy has supposedly fucked every girl apart of the sorority next door, Kappa Deltha Phi. Along with the rumors that he was part horse. There were many eye witnesses that came forward, sobbing saying they’d never find a man like him again. To you, Gojo Satoru was a mess who you didn’t wanna associate with. You knew you had mutual friends like Shoko and Nanami, who swore he was a nice guy deep down, but beyond that, you didn't hope for anything more. 

Instead of dwelling on it too much, you go back to find Shoko. She's giggling over some dumb joke when she notices that you’re there and runs over.

“Heyyyyyy, Y/N.  I missed you sexy, come dance with me”

She hiccups after that last words, and starts dragging you over to the dance floor where house music was playing. You don't even protest, too overwhelmed from what happened just trying to distract yourself. Shoko starts grinding up on you and you give in and do it back desperate to have some fun. The sweat and scent of cheap perfume suffocates you and holds a vague sense of nostalgia. No matter how many times you tell yourself that you’re done with these shitty parties you always come back. Sure, you could blame it on Shoko, but you could easily tell her no. honestly, it didnt make sense to you, but deep down you knew this cycle would keep continuing. All of a sudden, Shoko doubles over and starts gagging. Great, your night just keeps getting better. You place her arm over her shoulder and guide her upstairs to the bathroom (which you now know the location of). You do your best to look away while holding her hair back and assuring her that it’s okay. A ray of orange graces your eyes all of a sudden, and you swear that you cry a little.

“Oh my gosh, Y/N is Shoko okay??? Here, I got it from here. I can tell you’ve gone through a lot tonight.”

“Awww, Nobara i’m going to kiss you. You’re literally my angel, I’ll be back in a little i'm just gonna clear my head. It's been a weird night…”

Getting a sincere nod from Nobara, you walk outside to the backyard, where surprisingly not a soul in sight. You head over to a far couch and sit down for a bit. Maybe you would go inside in a bit, talk up some cute guy then head home. Hell, maybe you could even call Nanami, you know he would answer and rush over in a heartbeat if you even mentioned being lonely. It was tempting, the night would end on a good note and you’d have him to comfort you. The idea didn't seem too bad and you let out a little chuckle. 

“What's so funny, voyeur?”

Holy shit. You turn to the voice to see Satoru walking towards you. When did he get here? Last time you saw him, he was almost balls deep in some blonde chick. Now you had to deal with the embarrassment of walking in on them.

“Nothing, just thinking. I’m sorry about earlier, hope you know I’m not a peeping tom or anything like that”

“I mean, if you asked nicely you could have joined. Haven't had a threesome in a while.”

Your eyes widen, surprised he would even insinuate that. Offended couldn't even explain how you felt, does this asshole really think you’d fuck him? He was delusional. Whatever feelings of envy or jealousy you had earlier were long gone, and you were prepared to get up and leave until he came to sit by you. the proximity between you was too close for your liking. You could see him. Not in the way you did before, every minor thing you wouldn't have noticed before was magnified. His perfectly, straight teeth and soft, smooth lips smirking at you. His soft, voluminous hair perfectly being pushed by the wind. His muscular arms being hugged in all the right places by the shirt he was wearing. His eyes. Seeing them up close was another experience entirely. It was almost as if you would drop to your knees right then and there. They gleamed with radiance and temptation, drawing you in the more you stared back at him. Hadn’t you known anything about him, you would have let desire overcome you.

“No thank you, you’re not really my type, plus I can't really stand you.”

Lies. You’re flat out lying, partially. It was true that you couldn't stand this guy, but he was gorgeous. But you couldn't give in and feed his fat ego even more. 

“ouch, you're harsh. I heard from a birdie though that you and Nanami broke up, and plus the look in your eyes earlier said otherwise. I could see the way you rubbed your legs together, it's okay to admit you were wet”

He places a hand on your leg, seemingly challenging you. He starts to rub circles with his thumb on your inner thigh while continuing to talk into your ear. It didn't surprise you that he knew about Nanami, they were close enough to each other for him to have mentioned it.  

“I would really enjoy myself with a pretty girl like you. I know you don't like me, but that's okay. Doesn't mean we aren't compatible in other ways.”

His hand trails up even higher, climbing further and further towards your drenched cunt. You wished desperately that his words didn't have any affect on you, but they did. There was a war happening in your mind. Did you really wanna fuck this guy and give him something to boast about? The sensible part of your brain was screaming at you to leave and leave him but hurt, but when he was this close to you and saying all the right things, how could you refuse?

“Prove me wrong then.”

As soon as the words come out of your mouth, he gives you a boyish grin and extends out to litter nibbles up and down your neck. Obviously intending to leave marks, but you couldn't even bring yourself to care in that moment. Satoru brings his hand up to your panties and starts to slowly palm you. The sensation against your clit makes you release a low sigh of pleasure. You could feel yourself becoming wetter the more time went by between you- if that was even possible. Sensing your neediness and urge for more, Satoru chuckles and lays you flat against the couch. The fabric from your skirt slowly slides down your legs and then he quickly discards it, leaving you completely vulnerable. A burst of panic runs through you, you exposed outside. Anyone could come outside and see you in this compromised position. 

“Don't worry your pretty little head, those fuckers are so shit faced I doubt they’ll come out here”

It eased your worries a little to hear him say that, but you were still on edge. You were taken out of your thoughts though when he bites onto the fabric of your panties above your hip bone, and takes them off with his porcelain teeth. He was taking his time playing with you, and you were unsure of whether to simply enjoy it or punch him in the face. Satoru brings his face close to your pussy, he blows a breath of air right at your clit making you tense up. He laughs at your response then places a tender kiss on your fold. Following it along with licking a stripe on the other, touching everywhere but where you wanted him. 

“Satoru, please I need it”

A vulgar whine comes out of your lips in frustration. He smiles at you before giving into your requests and lapping at the sweet juice your pussy had been collecting for him. As soon as he got a taste, he felt like he would cream his pants right then and there. Your whines had gone straight to his dick and he wasn’t sure he’d felt anything like this. He brings up a finger to your wet little entrance and slowly sinks in his long, slender finger earning a moan from you. The more he slides in the more you see stars cloud your vision. You felt the need to close your eyes. Just looking at him made you feel like you would come from the sight alone. His eyes were playful and he would occasionally let out a moan while eating your pussy knowing the vibrations made you spasm each time. The wet squelching becomes louder the faster he pumps his finger while sucking on your clit. The combination of the two makes you wrap your legs around his head while panting and begging for more.

He pulls away sensing your impending orgasm and sits down with his leg spread, his bulge on display. You eagerly get up and crawl over in between his legs. Not wanting to waste any time, you slide the band of his sweatpants down along with his boxers, and your mouth salivates. It brings you back to the rumors about this man being part horse, you had never seen anything remotely as perfect. A large vein running down the side, paired with an angry red bulging tip that was leaking with precum. You slowly bring your tongue to his tip and lick up all the precum that emerged. Parting your lips, you spit all over his cock and bring your hand up to slowly jerk him. His breath starts to become unsteady the more your hand grips his shaft and sends chills through him. You gag a little the more you try to fit him into your mouth, you reach out to his hand and guide it to the top of your head. Satoru blinks a bit in astonishment but takes the hint right away and grips your head leisurely guiding your head up and down his cock. You feel him throb in your mouth the quicker he shoves you down onto him. The more he pushed you down the more you felt the urge to choke all over him, and the more saliva you produced. You could feel it dripping down all over your chin onto him, making lewd noises as you bobbed up and down.

"ohhhhhh fuck, Y/N. holy shittttt, just like that. such a good girl, sucking my cock nice and good."

hearing his whiny groans send a wave of realization over you. you were sucking the gojo satoru's dick. and he was fucking loving it. never in a million years did you think you'd let him see you in such a vulnerable state.

He pulls you off to your shock and bends you over the side of the couch. Realizing what he was gonna do, you arch your back and lean back to tease him.

"woah, patience now gorgeous. you want my big cock that bad?"

Satoru teases, slightly chuckling while admiring the view you give him and landing a light slap to your ass.

"mmm, need it so bad. please 'toru."

Egged on by your little nickname for him, he jerks himself a little before aligning his cock with your plush folds. He slides his tip up and down your entrance preparing you for what's to come before inserting himself little by little. The two of you release a groan of pleasure at the feeling of him sinking into you. As he bottoms out, he pulls out a tad then pushes right back. he continues this process, gradually increasing the speed. the more and more he pumped into you, you could hear the wet noises from him fucking you. it was driving you crazy, you never knew you could be so wet. you start pushing back against him, desperate for even more. he takes the hint and props up leg up to fuck you even deeper. you squeal from the pleasure coursing through your body. it felt too good to even think, you lay against the couch letting satoru take control over you.

A sudden loud creak brings you back to your senses.

"Yooooooo, dude did you see that hot ass chic playing beer pong. ughh, i needa tap that for sure tonight"

"hahaha, you wish. by the way, you seen satoru? That guy is usually always around during parties."

"hey, now that you mention it, you're right! Maybe hes fucking some girl upstairs or something?"

Two boys had come outside, and started laughing and talking loudly. They were close enough to hear, but it would take them walking around the corner to see you two. Terrified at the sudden possibility of getting caught, all the color drains from your face. This is it. These drunkard are gonna see you then go blab to everyone proudly about how satoru has "secured another body". Your immediate thought is that Satoru is gonna pull out and have you guys get dressed, but your eyes widen when he keeps going, if not faster.

He then pulls you up against his back and puts his hand against your mouth tightly. The grip he had on you was intense, one hand keeping your mouth shut while the other crept up to hold your waist against him. You can feel his hot breath against your ear, as he mutters

"Gotta keep you quiet, Princess. Wouldn't want them to see you acting like a slut, would we now?"

you nod your head in agreement, praying that they wouldn't hear you. the only noises heard outside were the loud conversation from the two boys and the obscene noises coming from Satoru rutting into you. It was a miracle they didn't notice.

Satoru picks up the pace, not being able to endure your tight pussy any longer. The feeling of your bare cunt dripping all over his cock sent him spiraling. He'd be silly to think he could last any longer. He brings his arm around your waist down to rub tight circles on your clit, stifling a moan when he feels you clenching hard around him. You cant take it anymore, muffling into his hand and squeezing your eyes shut when you come all over his cock. Feeling your orgasm, Satoru suddenly halted when he feels his balls empty everything they have into you. After a moment, he pulls out of you seeing as his come slowly starts to dribble out of your pretty hole. It burned into his mind, making him almost want to initiate another round.

You both begin to dress yourselves, and when you stand up to put your skirt on, you feel his warm come leaking out of you down your thighs. It makes you start to look for your panties but then you see him putting them in his pocket. He looks over at you and realizes that you've caught him and flashes you a toothy grin.

"Sorry sweets, gotta keep a souvenir."

You feel your face heat up in mortification. The idea of him keeping your panties would have overjoyed you, had you not imagined him doing that with every girl he's hooked up. you mutter a quiet "whatever" and sit back down on the couch refusing to look at him. In the end, you got involved with Satoru and as much as you hated to admit it, you really like it. You felt the couch dip right next to you and you realize that he came to sit next to you.

"hey."

you turn your head towards him, and he raises his hand up to your cheek to softly caress it. then lifts his head to place a swift kiss against your forehead.

"that was a lot of fun, lets do it again, okay?"

With that, he stands up and leaves, turning the corner.

"Oh my gosh! Whats up, Satoru??? Haven't seen you all party dude."

"I know, my bad. I was having a really good time, haha. Lets go back inside, hmm?"

You hear the three go back inside, as you sit there in silence thinking. Not once did he kiss you on the lips while fucking, but he gives you a forehead kiss after? What kind of guy is he, does he always get sweet with every girl after fucking their brains out? So many questions ran through your head, but there was one thing you were sure about.

You wanted to fuck Gojo Satoru again.

[nivisdreaming]

4 words

Hard dick

Grey Sweatpants

exactly. you get me.

Summary: Eddie’s thrilled to finally have his own place. Or at least, mostly his, since he does have a new roommate. A roommate that’s starting to give him some troubles, since she can’t seem to keep it down, and the walls aren’t all that thick. But, maybe she doesn’t actually mind all that much?

WC: ~1.8k

Tags: Roommates to lovers, mutual pining, a touch of emotional angst, fem!reader, 2nd POV, surprisingly un-smutty, cliffhanger, but still, exhibitionism, voyuerism, daddy kink, f!masturbation, vibrator use, mentioned m!masturbation, dry humping, bondage, heavy dom/sub undertones, implied oral (m!receiving)

“I’m gonna have to fucking move out. That’s my only option.” Eddie rests his forehead against the cool metal of the table in front of him with a thump.

“Don’t be so dramatic, I’m sure there’s something else you two can work out!”

“He has plenty of options, Stevie, however he is incapable of all of them because they include talking to pretty girls, something Edward Munson clearly has a chronic phobia of,” Robin chimes in as she lifts a french fry to her mouth. Eddie rolls his eyes despite knowing she can’t see them and lets out a long groan.

“What would I even say to her?? ‘Hey by the way, our apartment has the thinnest fucking walls in existence and I can hear every time you get off and it keeps getting me fucking hard so I would appreciate if you could not!’”

Steve makes an indigent sound. “Wait, hold your horses, you never mentioned this was a mutual thing Munson! This isn’t just a noise complaint, this is you dragging your roommate into your kink escapades, handcuffs on the wall guy!-“ He’s cut off by Robin bursting into laughter and throwing a playful punch to his arm.

Eddie grumbles a complaint and looks upwards just to fold his arms across his chest in annoyance. A pout crosses his face as Steve chuckles with Robin. “In my defense, it’s not like she didn’t get there on her own just fine,” he mutters, giving another roll of his eyes.

Robins jaw drops, “Wait, hold on, what?” Steve’s eyes fly between Eddie and Robin as he tries to puzzle out Eddie’s statement, his hand frozen over the basket of fries he was reaching into.

Now it’s Eddie turn to laugh, just glad he can finally find some humor out of this interaction with his friends. “I know I told you guys she was the total innocent type when I moved in, but, based on what I’ve been hearing… I assumed wrong,” he says with a smirk. He looks between Steve and Robin, both of them stunned into silence for a moment while Eddie takes another sip of his drink. “It would be easier if she was like, a vanilla girl or something, but god help me, I’m not allowed a bit of that Munson luck for once in my life. I just get to listen to her practically begging to be taken while knowing she’s not actually mine to be taken.”

Robin’s thoughts finally seem to reboot as she gives a clearing shake to her head. Steve shoots a nervous glance around them, trying to make sure there’s no children in range who could possibly overhear this, while she takes a long slurp from her milkshake. “Okay, but consider, could she be?”

Eddie raises an eyebrow. “Could she be what?”

“Yours for the taking, dummy. If you’re really.. overhearing as often as you say you are, there’s no way someone else has a claim on her, right? I fail to see the blockage here. Besides the you part of the equation, but that’s fixable bud!”

“Hey! First of all, ouch, my ego! Second of all, I’m not gonna fuck my roommate. I’m not even going to ask to fuck my roommate, because that’s weird and like you said I’m me!” Eddie scoffs and downs the rest of his soda. “Neither of you are helpful, and I’m not spending the last 13 minutes of my lunch break being made fun of,” he climbs out of his seat and pulls on his jacket, “Sayonara, suckers!” He turns to leave, but Steve grabs him by the sleeve.

“Eddie. Look, I know Robin and I joke, but seriously. I’ve seen how you look at her and how she looks at you. You’re not as bad as you think, you know that? This isn’t Hawkins High anymore, you’re not ‘The Freak’, you’re Eddie Munson, the cool metal-rocker she shares an apartment with.” Eddie shoots him an unimpressed stare. “I’m not saying do anything you don’t want to, okay? Just… keep your options open, okay?” Steve pulls away from Eddie to scratch the nape of his neck nervously. Eddie nods and sidesteps around him, leaving Steve to depart back to Robin while he briskly makes the 10 minute walk back to the garage.

—

By the time Eddie makes it home from work his roommate is already holed up in their room, but when Eddie enters his shared-wall bedroom, he is met with silence on her end.

He tosses his jacket off and flops onto the bed, a heavy sigh escaping his lips as he reflects on his day. Work was the usual, a few bitchy customers but nothing out of the ordinary. It’s his lunch with Robin and Steve that’s really eating at him, running circles around his mind and planting ideas in his head that previously he would have only entertained as fantasies. He hates it, how dirty it makes him feel, to imagine his innocent, introverted roommate pinned underneath him and making those sweet mewling sounds at his touch instead of her own, but he can only suppress his urges for so long, especially when he hears the mechanical buzzing start sounding through the wall.

They didn’t necessarily start as dirty thoughts. At first, he was imagining making dinner for you, stirring a big pot of mac and cheese while you sat next to him atop the counter, legs swinging back and forth while he let you ramble your day just to enjoy the sound of your voice in his ears. Then it shifted to eating the dinner in front of TV, you curled up into his side while you ate and giggled at one of the cheesy rom-coms you roped him into watching. Then he was placing a kiss on your cheek just to watch you get flustered, and you were getting brave and leaning in for a full kiss, and if he squeezed his eyes shut he could imagine the sighs coming from the other room were his to inhale. His breath to steal from your lips as he trailed down your neck, marking you with red and purple fireworks until there was no covering up how he was corrupting your innocence. His.

A high-pitched whimper snapped him out of his daydreams, followed by a harsh huff. He barely had time to register that the whirring sound had ceased when a knock came from his door as it was nudged open.

“Hey Eddie? Do you have any batteries I can borrow?” Eddie flies up to a sitting position, making eye contact with the meek figure standing in his doorway. You’ve got a blanket wrapped around your body, held together with a tight grip in the front to keep yourself completely covered. Or, almost completely covered, because the blanket bunches behind you as you shuffle, revealing your bare legs up to the tops of your knees. Eddie can’t seem to keep his eyes on yours anymore.

You shift uncomfortably under his gaze, but take a step into the room, not away. “Eddie, you’re… staring,” you take another step forward, “This.. might seem a bit weird, but I really like those pants on you. Especially like this.”

Eddie lets out a high pitched squeak as he takes in his own grey sweatpants, and the outline of his erection that clearly showing through them. He lurches to grab a nearby pillow to cover himself, but a hand around his wrist stops him. In front of him, you’ve allowed the blanket to fall away in favor of halting his movement, revealing yourself to be nothing but a pair a white cotton panties with a very visible wet splotch. “Just wait a second,” you release his hand and lean over to shut his door and lock it. When you turn back around, Eddie is wide-eyed and disheveled, as if starstruck by you. “I was gonna let you make the first move with all of this, but I think the endorphin rush has got me all confident, so I’m just gonna go for it,” You return to Eddie’s bedside and place one hand on each of his shoulders before swinging your leg across his lap and sitting directly atop him, laying your crotch right on his.

Eddie gasps and involuntarily bucks his hips upwards at the sudden pressure, further encouraging you. “I know you’ve been listening to me. The thin walls thing goes both ways, I can hear when you get off with me. Was hoping you wouldn’t make me ask for it, but I can’t wait anymore,” you whisper in his ear as you begin to grind, rutting your hips against his to stimulate your clit. You sigh happily at the feeling of his hands trailing up your back, glad to finally receive his warm touch, but his grip on your waist is quick to turn harsh as he forces your movement to stop. You’re ripped away from him as he flips you over, pushing you to your back so he can place his weight on your own.

“You wanted me to ask? All this time, all I had to do was ask?” He gathers both your wrists in one hand and pins them above your head while the other finds purchase pinching and pulling at your exposed nipple, triggering you to whine and squirm under him. His eyes meet yours again, and the uncharacteristically dark look in them sends a shiver through you. “God, darling, I am going to make you beg. Trust me, when I’m done with you, there will be no asking, just you pleading for mercy.” He releases your hands and pulls away from your breasts to unbuckle his belt and tug it off, fastening it into a set a restraints that you willingly slip your wrists through. “Safeword is Metallica. You can’t talk, you slap me twice anywhere. Either way, that’s the only way this stops. Am I clear?” You nod as a response, but a soft palm cradles your cheek and lifts your chin upwards.

“Words, princess. While you still have them.” His thumb strokes a soothing pattern along your jaw.

You can feel your heartbeat racing, and the fuzzy feeling in your head makes a full sentence hard to put together, but the gentle touch lures you to a moment of grounding. “Yes, I understand Eddie. Metallica or two slaps if I can’t take anymore.”

He snickers and gives a gentle pat to your cheek before pulling back. “Make that a ‘sir’ or a ‘daddy’ next time, sweet girl.” He climbs off from on top of you to tug off his t-shirt and sweats, leaving his inked skin and hairy chest for you to ogle at. You tug on your restraints with a slight whine, disappointed by your inability to reach out and touch him.

“On your knees, baby. Your hands may be indisposed, but I can still put that useful little mouth of yours to work.” Eddie pulls his boxers off from around his ankles and tosses them behind him as he stands at the edge of the bed. You shuffle towards him eagerly.

“Yes daddy.”

[moominsuki]

✎ᝰ BAKUGOU KATSUKI ; — bakugou hates everything about valentine’s day & nothing could change that. unfortunately for him, nothing is your middle name.

࿄ ! warnings — none. super cute fluff. / note. p2 is here :} enjoy <3

“i hate valentine’s day.”

bakugou and kirishima storm through the streets of tokyo, donning their hero uniforms and watching the public. kirishima rolls his eyes and tightly grabs the shoulder of his friend before he can shake him off in disgust.

“hate is a strong word, bakubro. you dislike valentine’s day. and i don’t believe that for a second. you just haven’t find the right one to love valentine’s with,” kirishima contends as he looks up at the billboards brandished with the latest advertisements going on and on about the latest swarovski bracelet and “the best flowers to get any woman to love you.”

“suckers like you are the reason why that is stupid day is such a big deal,” bakugou grumbles. “you’re gonna celebrate a made up day-” “it’s not made up!” “made up day to bait you into spending all your money on dumb shit. it’s useless and you’re dumb.”

kirishima laughs at bakugou’s cynicism and shakes his head. “like i said, you just haven’t find the right one! no offence, but taking romance advice from you would be like taking advice from denki.” bakugou shoots kirishima a pointed look and he puts his hands up in a surrendered pose.

“i’m just saying, while i buy flowers and a necklace for a lovely lady of mine, you can wallow in your pity party against the most romantic day of the year. that’s the best thing you can do for a girl.” bakugou groans outwardly and turns to look at his friend.

“is this a patrol or a reason for ya to go on and on about your new girlfriend? cos’ it seems like we ain’t scoping for villains and i’m just an ear to hear about how you get your dick wet.”

kirishima’s face curls at bakugou’s crude language and he shoves the blonde somewhat playfully. “firstly, my relationship with my girl is more than that. and secondly, it wouldn’t be manly of me to talk about my sex life.” bakugou scoffs at this.

“so instead you’ll subject me to ya boring love stories? hard pass.”

at this point, both the guys had reached their agency: being so caught up in their conversation about love and whatnot meant they subconsciously arrived at the huge, vast building.

“‘m sure dunceface and pinky will want to hear all about how you spent 15,000 yen on a fucking necklace but i don’t. have i already told you how stupid that was, by the way?”

kirishima sighs and opens the door, “that’s probably the only thing you’ve inputted into this conversation.”

the boys walk into the entrance and the reception is donned with flowers and glitter and pink hearts alike. the display left a sickening taste in bakugou’s mouth. there’s no way he would’ve co-signed something as ugly as this. it was definitely mina or denki or even deku-

“hey you guys! how do you like the look of the downstairs? i figured it’s not as valentine’s-esque as i would’ve liked but the glitter and the tendrils are pink and they’re heart shaped so i think it makes up for the other…” you gesture to the other parts of the decor that cover the entirely of the ground floor, “parts!”

kirishima looks at bakugou tentatively through his peripheral vision and bakugou’s eyebrows are so far raised, they’ve disappeared into the wheat strands adoring his hairline.

“i like it a lot, y/n! i can really feel the loving energy here,” exclaims kirishima and you smile and clap your hands at that.

“that’s so good to hear! some of the others said that it was perfect but didn’t know if you guys would like it as much…” you trail off and look at bakugou. he’s thankful that his mask covers up the movement of his eyes because he couldn’t have hated something more. the sickening colour of fuschia and pale pink messed with his feng shui more than he let on at this moment. if you were dunceface, he would’ve punched you up at this moment. heck, if you were pinky, he would’ve pulled on your ear and chastised you for not telling him first. if you were literally anybody else, you would’ve had an earful.

but you were you.

“i think it looks good,” bakugou hums and he nods before walking away to the elevators at the end of the vast room. you turn to see his moving body and you look at kirishima again in confusion.

“is he okay? are you sure he actually likes it?” you ask kirishima slowly and kirishima waves his hands at you.

“trust me, if he didn’t like it, he would’ve said something. you know bakugou doesn’t beat around the bush.” you smile in relief at that and kirishima quickly says bye to join bakugou in the closing lift.

“hey! wait up, bakugou!” kirishima makes the lift and is immediately welcomed by floating daisies and roses. bakugou stands staring straight out the doors of the elevator, not a lick of emotion on his face.

“so, uh, what was that?” asks kirishima after a lick of silence. bakugou scoffs, “i dunno what you’re talking about.”

kiri notices the tips of bakugou’s ears are red and he ponders on commenting on it before deciding he would prefer life.

“well, if i were you, i would get y/n a gift. but that’s just me though,” whistles the red haired man and bakugou’s eye twitches slightly and he rubs a hand across his face.

“fuck you and stop looking at me like that,” bakugou grumbles as kirishima nods with a knowing look on his face.

“…i heard through the grapevine that y/n really likes tulips and snapdragons - but you didn’t hear it from me!” mentions kirishima and as soon as those elevator doors open, bakugou storms out of there in a flurry, leaving his friend behind.

back in his office, bakugou sits at his desk and runs his fingers through the various decorations on his desk. it was the complete opposite of what his office usually looked like and to him, the runes of pink and red and white were ruining his feng shui. he picks up a card that’s situated on the edge of his desk and he doesn’t even have to open it to know it’s from you.

“dear ka bakugou,

i know the colours and the showiness might get too much for you so here’s a small gift from me before the day of festivities :) i.e. thank you for being a good sport!

love, y/n”

a gift card for his favourite watch brand sat in between the panels of the sickeningly glittery card.

when kirishima came to grab bakugou for lunch, he didn’t bring up the numerous tabs of florists and “gifts for girls you like” on the blond’s computer. and he definitely didn’t bring up the check of 135,000 yen addressed as “y/n’s gift” sitting amongst layers of paperwork.

࿄ ! — all rights reserved © moominsuki. please do not copy, translate, repost nor recommend my work outside of tumblr. this is strictly prohibited.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Hi! Congrats on reaching 5k followers!

Could I request a blurb where Benny Miller find out that the reader has a crush on him by accidentally finding a love letter they wrote?

Drunk Poetry.

benny miller x female reader

warnings - cursing. alcohol mention.

written for my 5k celebration - post here, masterlist here, inbox here.

“That’s the third time you’ve tried to kill me this week.”

You’re both laughing so hard you’re wheezing, clutching at your sides as happy tears drip down your faces.

“I’m sorry,” he chokes out, cheeks hurting from smiling so wide. “I don’t do it on purpose, I swear.”

Benny wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you in, holding you close as you rest your head on his chest. Both of you calm down, enjoying being plastered together for the moment.

Friends don’t do this stuff.

You know this.

But when it feels so right, so easy, so natural… who are you to put a stop to it?

Aggression seems to be his love language. It’s how you ended up where you were five minutes ago - you, nursing a blooming bruise on your thigh where Benny had accidentally punched it much too hard seconds earlier. Will says it’s how he shows people he likes them. He’s boisterous, a little clumsy, but so loving.

You’d been play fighting, beating each other up as per usual. The two of you were instantly bored watching a movie Frankie recommended, instead choosing to make your own entertainment.

“We need booze,” he says now, into your hair. “Just a little. Then we can dance.”

You chuckle, nodding into his shirt.

“There’s a bottle of tequila under my bed. Don’t ask.”

He laughs, and the sound rumbles through you lowly. Placing you on the couch gently, he gets up to go and find the alcohol while you stand up and grab some glasses. After a couple of minutes, you return to the living room to see him stood in the doorway, holding a pink piece of paper.

“You’re in love with me.”

Your heart drops out of your chest when you realise what he has in his hand.

“Ben, I can explain.”

His jaw is dropped, eyes wide as he looks at you. He’s uncharacteristically quiet, and it’s making you anxious.

“I, uh - I read somewhere a while ago that if you write stuff down, you can get it out of your mind. And you… you were on my mind a lot, I guess. So I started writing these letters - obviously I was never gonna send them or anything - to get stuff off my chest. You were never meant to see them, Ben. I’m sorry.”

“You’re… sorry?”

“Y-yeah. I’m sorry.”

“For the letters? Or loving me?”

You take a deep breath, holding onto the doorframe.

“Neither, actually. Yeah, neither. I’m not sorry for the letters - I’m kind of sorry that you found them, though. But I’m not sorry for loving you. Never have been.”

He strides across the room, wrapping his arms around your back as he kisses you with so much passion it almost knocks you over. You kiss him back eagerly, hands tangled in his hair as you pull him closer.

“I love you too,” he whispers against your mouth. “I thought that much was obvious.”

“Yeah?” you grin, raking your nails across the back of his neck. “You do?”

“The guys have been on my back about it for like a year.”

“A year? Sucker,” you tease, leaning in to kiss him again.

He breaks away to laugh, throwing you over his shoulder as he walks towards your bedroom.

“Let’s find that fucking tequila and get this party started, huh?”

You can’t say no to an offer like that.

[rd0265667]

Minji x Reader: Mercy, The Fool's Errand

TW!: Warning, there is quite alot of Violence and a slight bit of Gore(but there will be a TW before hand) A/N: Trying a more action oriented fic with Spiderwoman Minji, maybe will spring into something more 👀 Permanent Taglist: @cwpiqwon @justme-idle

Dropping down silently, Spider Woman landed behind a thug who was struggling to light a cigarette. Before the thug could react, Spiderwoman snatched the cigarette away, punching the thug in the gut. As he yelped in pain, she lit the cigarette, tossing it into his mouth, before webbing his mouth shut

“Didn’t your mom ever tell you smoking kills? Lucky for you, I’m way more effective than lung cancer. And a sucker for irony too.” Seeing more thugs, Spiderwoman webbed this thug up, swinging him and throwing him at the incoming thug. Jumping at the nearest thug, Spiderwoman webbed his mouth shut and gave him a quick uppercut, sending him sprawling into a pile of crates. The commotion caught the attention of two nearby thugs, who turned around, guns drawn. Spiderwoman launched herself at them, twisting mid-air to avoid their shots. She landed between them, delivered a rapid-fire punch to the first thug's gut, then spun around and kicked the second thug in the chest.

“I don’t get it—do you guys buy bullets in bulk? Costco membership? And seriously, where’s your safety training? Is there even safety on this gun?” Spiderwoman asked, before smacking him across the face with the butt of the rifle

The other thug staggers up, reaching for a knife. Spiderwoman webs the knife to her hand, tossing it straight into his chest. “Knife to meet you! Ha, I’ve been dying to use that one. Okay, technically I’m not the one dying, you are, but yada yada, spare me the semantics”

Another thug tried to surprise her from behind, swinging a crowbar. Spiderwoman ducked, then flipped backward, landing on the thug’s shoulders. Wrapping her arms around the thug, she jumped up, smashing his head into the ground as his neck jerked with a sickening crunch

“Crowbars? That’s cute. Didn’t know I was fighting a gang of Home Depot employees. You guys got discounts on those, or…? Meh, I don’t think dead employees get discounts. Oh well.”

SpiderWoman noticed a group of thugs at the far end of the warehouse, raising their guns. She shot a web at a nearby crate and swung it into them, knocking them down like bowling pins.

“Strike! And the crowd goes wild! Well, not really. But hey, you should see my high score at the arcade.”

As Spider woman landed, a thug swung a chain at her. She caught the chain mid-swing, yanked the thug forward, and clotheslined him.

“You know, I read somewhere that chainmail is making a comeback. But you, my friend, are not pulling it off.”

A thug sneaks up behind her, swinging a bat. Spiderwoman’s spider-sense tingles, and she ducks just in time. She webs the thug’s feet to the floor and yanks the bat out of his hands, twirling it like a baton.

“Batter up! Or should I say, ‘batter down’? No? Wow, tough crowd. Maybe I should stick to knock-knock jokes.”

She swings the bat, cracking it against the thug’s head, sending him spinning. The thug drops, twitching. Spiderwoman exaggeratedly raises her hand, running around the spot like a baseball game “And the crowd goes wild! Okay, nobody’s awake…or alive, but still. I’m a hit!”

Another thug tried to charge him with a bat. Spiderwoman sidestepped, grabbed the bat, and broke it over her knee, using the broken pieces to jab the thug in the shoulders, before a last one right in the stomach.

“Another goddamn bat? Really? What is this, amateur night? I’m expecting Joker to pop out and tell me this was all a prank.”

The last thug was backing away, visibly trembling, his gun shaking in his hands. Spiderwoman took a step forward, then another, until she was right in the thug’s face.

“Relax, man, I’m not gonna kill all of you. You, I’ll probably just ruin your evening. And maybe your dental work.”

Before the thug could respond, Spiderwoman webbed his gun to the ceiling and delivered a quick jab to the thug's stomach,followed by a punch to the face, the impact causing a crack in the ground Seeing the last thug left in the warehouse, Spiderwoman swung over, landing on the boxes next to the thug “I surrender, Don’t kill me!” The thug shouted out, dropping her gun to the ground. “Alright, but only if I get to tell you a joke.” Spiderwoman quips, twirling around a karambit she had found. “Okay!” The thug responded excitedly, relieved to have a way out. “Knock knock.” Spiderwoman started “Who’s there?” “Death.” Spiderwoman deadpanned “Death whrrg.” The thug began, before Spiderwoman dropped down, swiping the karambit across the thug's neck as she dropped to the ground, holding her neck as blood spurted wildly from the wound. “God I love Rowan Atkinson.” Spiderwoman chuckled to herself

“You know, I’d love to stay and chat, but I’ve got a hot date. And maybe some takeout. Do bad guys even eat? I mean, it’s like you’re always here, doing the crime thing. You must have terrible Yelp reviews.”

Spiderwoman started walking toward the exit, then paused, looking back over his shoulder.

“By the way, if you’re thinking of sending more guys after me, here’s a tip: maybe hire a better interior decorator. This warehouse looks like the set of every bad action movie ever. Seriously, a potted plant wouldn’t kill you.”

She shot a web, swinging up into the rafters and disappearing into the shadows, leaving behind a warehouse full of groaning thugs and shattered crates.

As she swung away into the night, she muttered to herself, “I should really charge for this. Hero work, witty banter, interior design tips… Talk about multi-tasking.”

Her swing back to the rooftop was an uneventful one, thankfully. You were gonna kill her if you were late again, and she didn’t want to deal with that today. With a final swing, Minji soared into the air, landing with a final forward roll, jogging into the small shed at the rooftop. As she rushed into the shed, she smirked, leaning on the doorframe. “Just in time.” Minji said with a chuckle. Your eyes narrowed, staring at Minji, before shaking your head with a small sigh. “You’re cutting it close Kim. And to think I made your favourite for tonight.” “Ice cream?” Minji’s smile spread wide across her face. “Yep, mint chocolate.” You teased, Minji’s face dropping in horror. “You might be the worst person I’ve ever met. And I’ve literally met every villain in this city.” Minji said in horror “I’m kidding, its that cheesecake flavour you told me you liked that once.” You rolled your eyes, seeing Minji’s eyes widen, sparkling with excitement. “So what’s the special occasion? You even broke out the ice cream maker Auntie bought in that one garage sale?” Minji asked as she dug into the ice cream as if it was about to disappear. “If I recall, that was the garage sale you were supposed to help out in, but disappeared. Ahma was so pissed at you.” You jabbed with a chuckle, Minji wincing as she remembered those piercing, disappointed eyes that seemed to eat at her soul. Ghost Rider could never. “Not answering the question honey.” Minji teased, once again digging back into the bowl of ice cream before her. “I wanted to talk to you about reinstating your no kill rule.” You sat next to Minji, putting her hand in yours. “Nope.” Minji quickly replied, continuing to dig into the ice cream as if you had not said a word Taken aback, you quickly snatched the bowl away from Ice Cream away from Minji. You were well aware that if she wanted to, you couldn’t have taken that bowl from her if your life depended on it, but at least this proved she was listening. Somewhat at least. “I’m serious.” You gripped Minji’s hand tighter, trying to look her in the eyes “Ralph Dibny. Caitlin Luz. Joseph Wiegand. Corey Steele. Rachel Ong. 5 Dead, 236 people injured.” Minji stared at you dead in the eye. Your grip softened, you knew those names, you knew those numbers. The casualty report from the Goblin’s last attack, “If I had put the Goblin down the first time she tried anything, they would still be here. Rachel…She would still be here.”  Minji seethed in rage. “Kim Minjeong.” You rebutted. “What about her?” Minji asked, clearly irritated at this line of questioning. “You fought her at Silph Labs a month ago, when she tried to steal some tech prototype.” “And?” You walked over to the computer, all it took was some typing to pull up some articles. “Have you heard of this new hero in Moapa Valley? Winter Flare? That’s Kim Minjeong.” You brought up a new message tab of communication. “I’ve been in contact with Crimson Banshee, the vigilante at Moapa Valley. She figured out what Minjeong was using that prototype for.” You took a small brown file, handing it to Minji, who looked at the file in apprehension. “Open it.” You nudged, Minji sighing before opening the file. “Her name is Yu Jimin. She was suffering from a rare genetic disease, and it was fatal. That prototype was the only thing that could save Jimin, and it did. A few days ago, the prototype was found in the office, frozen in a block of ice, and now, Moapa has a new protector.” “Your point?” Minji asked, going back to the couch.

“Some of them deserve a second chance. Not all of them, of course. The Goblin, The Chuuker, the mass murderers, the monsters, put them in the ground. I have no moral argument about that. But some of them deserve at least a shot at redemption. Like Minjeong. Good people, forced by circumstance to do bad things. That doesn’t make them villains, they’re just desperate, lost. You’re a hero, Minji, children look up to Spiderwoman everyday, but parents are afraid, Minji. They don’t want their kids to think murder is the first answer to everything. Just killing them may seem like it’s the right way out, but it’s just the easy way out. Some of these people deserve a second chance, a shot at redemption, but if they choose to turn bad again, you’ll be there to stop them again, my amazing spiderwoman.” You placed your hand on her cheek, attempting to reassure her. “But what if they change, attack again, and I can’t stop them? The lives that they’ll take, they’re on me.” Minji’s tone lowered, hands trembling as fear overcame her. “I know it’s difficult, baby, but killing isn’t the answer. It’s chipping away at your soul. Please. Think about it?” You pleaded, to which Minji nodded. “Now, I believe I promised you movie night. So what movie shall it be?” You asked, cuddling into Minji on the couch, remote in your hand as you turned on the TV. “Well, I’d say Lilo and Stitch, but I’m not paying fucking 13 bucks a month Disney.” Minji said, turning to look into what was seemingly thin air. “Who are you talking to this time?” You asked amusedly, not new to Minji’s antics “Let’s just watch the Titanic for the 20th thousand time.” Minji said, causing you to giggle. “It’s a good movie, and I expect a little more leeway with movie selection after I spent the whole day after class churning your goddamn cheesecake ice cream.” You playfully rolled your eyes, causing Minji to roll her eyes in mocking response, before pulling you in for a cuddle. “Jack would have fit on that goddamn door by the way.”

Spiderwoman clings to a steel beam high above the construction site, her eyes scanning the ground below. She had heard chatters of a new self proclaimed Genius Villain in town. Smartest in the world. “How many Smartest people in the world are there? It’s like how many first Baptist churches I see around this city. Like, one of them got to actually be first right?” Spiderwoman grabbed the screen, pulling it toward her mouth like a mic to talk to the people on the other side. “Okay okay, this is what you readers came here for. It’s showtime, grab your popcorn, turn off that music you’re playing in the background. Shits about to get real.” Spiderwoman lets go off the screen, pushing it back into the air, before cracking her knuckles

“Alright, Scipio,” Spiderwoman calls out, her voice echoing through the empty site. “Time to settle the score. And before you ask, no, I don’t have a coupon for this ass-kicking, so you’re gonna have to take it full price.”

A shadow moves in the darkness below, and Scipio steps into the light. He’s dressed in tactical gear, his posture calm and ready. A rope dart, its metal tip glinting ominously, coils in his hand.

“Nice rope dart! I guess you’re planning to make me your personal piñata. Hope you brought enough candy for the both of us!” Spiderwoman quips, assessing the threat before her

“You’ve been busy, Spiderwoman,” Scipio says, his voice smooth. “But tonight, I’m going to show you that brains can beat brawn.”

Spiderwoman drops from the beam, flipping gracefully in mid-air before landing softly on the ground. She bounces lightly on the balls of her feet, adopting a fighting stance “Brains, huh? Let’s see how smart you feel when you’re wrapped up like a mummy in webs.”

Without warning, Scipio whips the rope dart toward her, the tip slicing through the air with a deadly hiss. Spiderwoman reacts instantly, firing a webline to a nearby beam and yanking herself out of its path. She swings in a wide arc, twisting her body to deliver a flying kick to Scipio’s head. He ducks just in time, but she’s already flipping over him, landing lightly on the other side.

“Cheap Shot Buster! But you’re gonna have to be quicker than that!” she taunts, shooting another webline to a distant crane and pulling herself upward. She swings from the web, her body swaying slightly as she observes him from above. “And try not to get dizzy from all this swinging around. I know it can be a lot to handle. I’ve got a good pharmacy guy if you need him.”

Scipio doesn’t waste any time. He snaps the rope dart back, the metal tip whipping around his body as he takes aim. Spiderwoman swings toward him, her body twisting mid-air as she dodges the dart again, using a webline to redirect herself upward. She lands on a high beam, crouched and ready.

“Nice toy you got there,” she quips, firing a web to a nearby scaffold and using it to slingshot herself downward. “But mine’s better.” She somersaults through the air, aiming to land a kick on Scipio’s chest. But he’s prepared—he spins the rope dart around him, creating a whirling barrier that she narrowly avoids.

“Looks like you’re dancing with danger!” she shouts, using her webs to dodge and weave through the air. “I hope you’ve been taking dance lessons.”

Scipio growls in frustration and charges, his rope dart whipping through the air with deadly precision. Spiderwoman spins away, flipping into the air and firing webs to keep him off balance. She catches the dart mid-air and spins it around her hand, using it as a makeshift weapon to parry his next attack.

“Whoa, you’re really sticking to your guns—literally!” she jokes, a barrel role to narrowly dodge the rope dart. “But I’m afraid your aim is a little off. Better luck next time!”

Scipio narrows his eyes, clearly annoyed. He lunges at her with a series of rapid, precise strikes, but she dodges and counters, her movements a blur of agility and acrobatics. With a flourish, Scipio sends the rope dart with astonishing speed, though Spiderwoman was able to narrowly dodge, allowing the rope dart to twirl around her, sending it back at Scipio, causing him to duck, knocking him off his balance

“You’re like a cat in a laser pointer shop,” Spiderwoman quips, spinning around to land a kick to his ribs. “Always swatting at things you can’t quite catch!”

Scipio stumbles, but he catches himself, spinning around to deliver a backhand that Spiderwoman barely dodges. She retaliates with a series of punches, but Scipio blocks most of them, using her momentum against her to throw her off balance, one gap in her attack all he needed to knock her back.

Spiderwoman lands lightly on her feet, her breath coming in quick bursts. This guy is good—really good. But she’s not done yet. Not by a long shot. “Oh you’re good. As the shitheads on Mobile Legends say, Music.” Spiderwoman says, quickly followed by two quick claps, before lunging back at Scipio

She fires a web at a steel beam, yanking herself into the air. Scipio follows, leaping after her with lightning quick agility. But Spiderwoman has the advantage here—she swings from beam to beam, her experience of fighting mid swing proving advantageous as she dodged, bobbed, and parried everything Scipio tried to throw at her

“Catch me if you can!” she shouts, twisting mid-air to avoid a punch and landing a spinning kick to his head. “Or, you know, keep missing and I’ll just keep making jokes. Your call!”

Scipio reels from the kick, but he recovers quickly, grabbing her leg and pulling her down to the ground with him. They hit the concrete hard, but Spiderwoman uses the momentum to roll away, springing back to her feet. She fires a web to a nearby crane and pulls herself up, swinging in a wide arc before dropping down on Scipio from above. He raises his arms to block, but she’s too fast—she lands a solid punch to his jaw, followed by a kick to his chest that sends him crashing into a pile of rubble.

Scipio groans, struggling to get back to his feet. But Spiderwoman is already moving, her webs snapping out to wrap around his arms and legs. She yanks him off the ground, swinging him in a wide arc before slamming him into a steel beam. The impact reverberates through the site, and Scipio collapses to the ground, dazed.

Spiderwoman lands lightly beside him, breathing hard. Her fists clench and unclench as she stares down at him, her mind racing. She could end it all right now—just one more hit, and he’d be done for. “Go ahead.  I’ve heard all about this before. Spiderwoman, the penumbra of this city. End me.” Scipio said, out of breath “Shut up.” Spiderwoman sighs. You were right. There was a better way to do this. With a shake of the head, Spiderwoman turns to walk away. “You’re letting me go?” Scipio questioned

Spiderwoman gazes down at him, her expression unreadable. “Because someone believes there is a better way to do things,” she says quietly. “And I’m starting to believe it too.”

She webs him to the ground, ensuring he won’t be going anywhere until the authorities arrive. “Don’t feel so smart now, do you, genius?” As she prepares to swing away, she looks back at him one last time, her voice hardening.

“Consider yourself lucky,” she says, her tone cold. “This is your one chance, repent, use that big brain for the good of society. But this is a warning, if I ever see you again, I won’t be making any more promises. And next time, bring more than just a rope dart.”

In the wreckage of the construction site, Scipio laid there, groaning in pain, though a small smile on his face. The fight might have been lost, but the war had just begun. It was not a war he anticipated being alive to see, but he wasn’t complaining. As the dot blinked on the screen on his wrist, Scipio smirked. Revenge would be swift, precise, fiery.

Exhausted, Minji walked into the shed. “How’d it go?” You asked, tossing her her usual isotonic drink. “I did it. New Guy in town, Scipio. I think he just wanted to test his skill against mine. He’s smart, and he’s good. Really good. Hopefully he uses the second chance wisely.” Minji said, leaning into the back hug you had thrown her into. “I’m proud of you.” You said, ruffling her hair as Minji smiled. “Alright, I’m going down to the chemistry labs to make some more web fluid.” Minji said, yawning as she tossed her suit to a corner, dressing down into a more comfortable jumpsuit. “Alright, I’ll do some research on Scipio while you’re gone, then maybe we'll go for supper?” You asked “You read my mind bro.” Minji chuckled, walking to you at your chair, leaving a small kiss on your forehead, before heading down the building to the chemistry lab.

Minji hummed a soft tune as she mixed the chemicals she needed. It was a slow process, but after so much time spent crime fighting, this time spent had become more or less a routine for her. She leaned back on her stool, allowing her mind to drift as she swirled the beaker in her hand. As she swirled it, however, she suddenly had a heavy feeling in her chest, the same feeling when her spidey senses go into overdrive. “Damn, I’ve been working too hard, maybe some chimichangas later.” Minji joked to herself, but as she swirled the beaker, she could not shake the horrible feeling. Now slightly wary, Minji got up from her seat, looking around the lab. “Alright, Monster in the closet, the Sonic CGI before we told Paramount they could go fuck themselves. Come out, come out wherever you are.” Minji called out, only to be met with silence, before hearing a deafening scream. Minji’s face paled. She bolted out of the lab, going as fast as her legs could take her, running up the stairs, only to recoil in horror as she saw the shed in flames. “Y/N!” She screamed out, hoping to find you amidst the rubble. Jumping into the shed, looking around, frantically looking for you. Seeing your hand sticking out amidst the dust, she jumped in, picking you up in a fireman’s carry, before running out from the shed. “Hey, babe, it’s okay, you’re safe now.” Minji whispers to you, holding you tight against her chest. “Babe?” Minji whispered, realising that you were unreactive. She placed a finger to your neck, her trembling hands realising you didn’t have a pulse. “No, No, No, Not again, this can’t be happening again.” Minji muttered under her breath Minji quickly tried CPR, her chest compressions growing more frantic as you remained unresponsive. Minji collapsed to the ground, breathing heavily as she fell back in horror. Looking to her hand, she quickly vibrated her hand, seeing small blue sparks of electricity forming on her hand. A power that she had found not too long ago, and your last hope. With trembling hands, Minji placed her hand on your chest, causing your body to jolt up in the air, but you remained unconscious. The sounds of sirens quickly flooded the area, the alarm clearly having been tripped by the fire. As the medics rushed the area, Minji let the paramedics around your body. After some checks, Minji saw the medic look to her watch, confirming her worst fear. As Minji fell back to the ground, stunned as the paramedics wheeled you away, she noticed something in the corner. Her suit. She slowly walked over to it, noticing a small blinking red light you had not noticed before, accompanied by a note. “With regards from the New Rogues, and Scipio ~Inferno.” Minji’s fist tightened, sparks flying out from her fist.

“Where are they! You have 10 seconds to tell me, before I gouge your eyeballs out.” Minji screamed, punching the thug she had found, webbing him upside down. “I don’-” Before the thug could finish his sentence, Minji punched him in the face, his head thrashing through the cinder wall behind him, jaw agape. “You next. Tell me something I want to hear or your jaw won’t even stay on like that guy’s.” Minji threatened. “Okay, okay, I heard some chatter of some gathering in a warehouse downtown. Let me go, please, I don’t want any trouble.” He screamed out. Minji nodded, turning around. “Hey, mind letting us down genius?” The thug screamed out, before Minji webbed his mouth, before giving it a rough yank, Minji swinging away from the source of the screams, his jaw hanging over his nose.

Minji’s eyes darkened as she perched atop the warehouses. Seeing light from the warehouse next to this one, she swung over, seeing Scipio, beside him being 3 other costumed figures, one with his hands over Scipio, seemingly healing him from the injuries he had suffered prior. Minji jumped down from the warehouse, landing on her toes, walking slowly into the warehouse. The other 3 villains were shocked, crouching into fighting stances as they kept their eyes on Minji. Scipio, however, chuckled as he watched Minji walking in. “Like the gift, Spiderwoman? As you can see, I’ve brought a lot more than a rope dart this time. I present to you, my new rogues. That there is Specter, this here is Gaze, and my friend over there is Inferno, the one responsible for sending you your gift.” Scipio said, winding his rope dart around his arm. “What, cat got your tongue? No more quips anymore genius?” Scipio questioned, smirking, believing he had broken Minji’s spirit. He had broken something, though he was gonna wish he hadn’t “Answer the boss when he’s talking to you!” Specter shouted, deciding to bum rush Minji. In one fluid move, Minji webbed Specter in the forehead, harshly yanking it, causing him to hit the ground hard on his face. Minji walked up to Specter, palming his head and lifting him up by his head, staring dead at the 3 other villains.

TW! Slightly Gory

Without a word, Minji’s hands began to shoot off sparks, Specter’s body shaking in Minji’s hand, the current running through his head, his eyeballs popping from his head, hanging from his eyes like a pinata at a halloween party, and his body began to smell like burnt charcoal. “What the fuck!” Scipio shouted out in shock. Tossing the body to a side, Minji shot her webs upward, pulling down the only light source in the room, causing it to crash down around the 3 villains left, as they all jumped out of the way. Minji’s eyes burned with rage, the darkness her ally as she lunged into action

“Reaper to Wildcat, I’m at the warehouse, checking out the disturbance. I’ll report back in a short while.” The figure shrouded in a black cloak, a sickle in hand said into their comlink “Roger that Reaper. Be careful, we don’t know what happened in there.” Wildcat’s voice rang through the comms, though it was quickly snuffed out by a scream from inside the warehouse. The Reaper bolted in, seeing copious amounts of blood stains on the ground, the charred body of Specter laying on the ground, eyeballs all but disconnected, skin charred, his two legs seemingly having been torn off. “What in the world?” The reaper muttered under their breath, walking cautiously into the next room, only to stop in shock. The Reaper had seen alot in their crime fighting escapades, many many atrocities, but none came even close to this sight. “What have you done!” The reaper screamed out. In the middle of the room, crouched Minji, standing upon a web the shade of dark crimson red. But this web was not spun of silk, instead, the web was formed by a grotesque collaboration of limbs, ligaments, muscles, a crimson red web of anger and gore

“I did what I had to.” Minji coldly replied, standing up and jumping in front of the Reaper. “Where are the villains?” The reaper demanded to know. “Some here, some there, some on the ceiling. But alive. For now at least. I’ll finish up in a moment. I need the web to be complete, to send a message to the wannabe villains of the world.” Minji nonchalantly said, gesturing to the corner. In the corner laid 3 bodies of the villains, all in different states of being. Missing limbs, faces burned, clawed off, jaw ripped clean off. They all laid, screaming in agony.

(We good from here on) “You can’t do this!” The Reaper shouted out in horror. “Why not? These villains don’t understand logic. So I speak the only language they speak, violence, splayed out so undeniably in their face that they’d fucking shoot themselves in the stomach before daring to step out of their houses in their shitty spandex or their half cooked schemes. “And what if villains take notice and want to kill you to make a name for themselves?” The reaper demanded to know “Then I expand my web.” Minji said

“I thought you changed recently. I heard of your fight with Scipio. You went back to how it was before the Goblin killed Rachel. But that’s gone again? I had faith in you, convinced wildcat to give you time, that in time, you’d show mercy.” The reaper said, before Minji let out a shrill chuckle “Mercy? Mercy cost me Rachel. Mercy cost me my aunt and Uncle. Mercy cost me my friends, my family. Mercy’s an easy thing to preach, when everyone you love is a goddamn superhero, Reaper. Mercy sounds good, until it bites the hand that feeds like the ungrateful dog it is, the mercy extended to these subhuman animals. Mercy cost me….it cost me Y/N. They were my second chance, my happiness after so much time of anger and hatred, and Mercy took them away from me. Hah, Mercy, the fool's errand”

[thehistoriccemetery]

I saw you were in need of requests, so I bring you one.

how would the ladies react to a usually pacifistic Tav sucker punching someone, seemingly out of nowhere? when pressed as to why they did it, Tav reveals they'd been hearing the person they punched make gross comments about their partner all evening

I only did Shadowheart, Lae’zel, and Karlach for this one. Hope you enjoy anon!

CW: Violence

Shadowheart

Shadowheart’s eyes widen in surprise when your fist meets the Sharran priest’s face. He falls backwards, nearly hitting his head against the alter. She covers her mouth to conceal a smile. The smile, however, is quickly replaced with a concerned look. She couldn’t hear your conversation, what could he have possibly said to set you off? You walk back towards her, accidentally smearing blood across as you try to itch your nose.

“Is that his blood or yours?” She asks.

You turn your hands over, just now noticing there is blood on them. “Oh?” You tilt your head. “Probably both?”

“What did he do? Did he hurt you?” She asks.

“No he didn’t hurt me, he… it’s not important,” you said. “Am I gonna get like… smited if I wash my hands of in Shar’s fountain? Smited? Smoted?”

Shadowheart laughs. “It’s actually smote. And if you’re going to get smote for anything, it’s shoving her priest’s head into her alter.”

She takes your face into her hands and presses your foreheads together as you both laugh. She kisses your forehead and you wrap your arms around her. The move surprises and her hands shoot into the air, but she doesn’t pull away.

“You made the right choice… sparing Aylin I mean. I know it was the hardest thing you’ve ever done, but it was the right thing to do.” You say.

“I know, darling,” she says, relaxing and returning your hug.

Lae’zel

When Lae’zel sees you move to punch the old scholar, she’s by your side before you even make contact. The scholar hunches over, groaning in pain. Lae’zel takes the opportunity to take her greatsword down on her back. The body falls limply to the ground. “Kainyak!” She spat. “What did the istik say?”

You smiled. “You didn’t even hear her and you still struck her down?”

“If it was enough to incite any violence from you, I’m sure a swift death was a blessing,” she responded.

“The crèche is that way,” you say, pointing in the direction of the Rosymorn Monastery. You hoped it would distract away from original question. Lae’zel shouldn’t have to hear the racist and repulsive way the woman had spoken of her people.

Luckily, it was enough.

“Then that is the way we will go” she commands, pointing her greatsword in the direction.

Karlach

Karlach almost misses it, but she turns her head at the last minute to see you sock a bard right in the nose.

“Hell yeah!” She shouts, pumping her fist in the air. She’s still about 50 feet away from you, so she definitely didn’t hear what the man said or know why you punched him. She starts approaching a bit more quickly, breaking into a light jog.

Before you know it she’s standing next to you and looking down at the now dazed bard on the ground. “That was awesome!” She says, slapping you lightly on the back. “So uh… what did he do? Must’ve been a hell of a song he was playing to get a rise out of you.”

“He was… he’s not a fan of tieflings,” you sigh. It’s not a complete lie, more of a fib. He’s not a fan of a tiefling, one you are particularly fond of.

“A lot of people aren’t, unfortunately,” she says, reaching a hand out to help the man up. Your heart aches at the act of kindness for such a cruel man.

“I’ll not be taking assistance from you, hellspawn!” He spits, standing up himself and spitting at Karlach. Blood and teeth spattered against her chest.

You glare at him, ready to knock him out for good this time. A swift kick sends him tumbling back to the ground and a stomp to his right hand cause him to shriek. You won’t kill him, but his broken fingers ensure he’ll never play another about your Karlach again.

[nofingjustaninchident]

⛧° Cooking classes with Uncle Leo

⛧° 。 ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆༺♱༻⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ 。°⛧

content: leo valdez x fem!reader blurb

warnings: probably cursing, bad spanish, not proofread. ig that's it?? lmk!!

a/n: i didn't really like this, but i'm posting it anyways lol. dedicated to covey and @/pinkdiorluvr cuz i know they both love leo hehehe

⛧° 。 ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆༺♱༻⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ 。°⛧

You never learnt how to cook. A disturbed childhood with a shitty mortal dad was not the best place to get cooking lessons. Or to learn anything, on that matter.  

The point is, cooking skills aren’t something you possess, and that annoys you beyond limits. That took you to asking your best friend, Leo Valdez, for cooking classes. Which he immediately accepted. I mean, who wouldn’t want to teach your crush how to cook? 

"So, when can I go to your house?” You asked, which made him snap back to reality from just admiring your features.  

“Uh... my house?” He asked, as he completely forgot what you guys were previously chatting about. He was too busy with noticing how the freckles coated your cheeks, and how your black hair framed your face in the prettiest way possible. Oh, he was down bad.  

“Are you even listening to me right now, Leo?” You asked, waving your hand in front of his face. 

“Uh, yeah, ‘course I am. You were talking about the... cooking classes, right?” He asked, a sheepish smile making his way to his lips. You just rolled your eyes. 

“Yes, I am. When can I come to your house, hm?” You asked again. 

“Tomorrow at seven sounds good to you?” He asked. 

“Yeah, that’d be great.” You answer, smiling softly as well.  

“You’re gonna learn how to make the perfect pasta alla carbonara, my dear apprentice. It's one of my specialties.” He said, passing an arm across your shoulders and pulling you to him.  

Before you could even pull away so you could leave, he planted a kiss with a loud ‘mwah’ to it and darted off, laughing. You were left confused, blushing and smiling as a toddler who just got a pack of candy.  

⛧° 。 ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆༺♱༻⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ 。°⛧ 

Leo stood in his kitchen, a grin plastered on his face as he waited for his best friend’s arrival. He was looking forward to it, since he knew that it was a chance of absolutely zero percent that this whole class didn’t end in absolute chaos.  

He leaned against the counter, tapping his fingers impatiently, trying to figure when you’d finally come, what clothes you’d be wearing, what shoes you’d wear and in which way your hair would be. Would it be down? Would you put it in a ponytail? A bun? A braid? 

Oh gods, he was such a sucker for that damned daughter of Poseidon.  

Eventually, he heard the rhythmic knock on the door, telling him that you were finally there, much to his happiness.  

“Come on, Valdez, it’s freezing out here!” You complained, just when he finally opened the door and you barged inside, escaping the snow from the outside world. You were in a black coat, wine-red leggings, gloves and a cute scarf so your nose didn’t get too cold. “Finally! Thought you’d leave me out there to die.” 

“I’d never do that, princesa. I mean, at least not today, I need an assistant.” He said jokingly, poking your shoulder and teasing you as you took your coat off.  

“I’m gonna punch you, I swear to all the gods that I know.” She threatened. He just smiled and walked towards the kitchen, with you following right behind him. “So, what’re you gonna teach me today?”  

“We’re gonna make the best pasta ever – carbonara!” He said happily as he pointed at the counter, which was filled with ingredients for the dish – bacon, eggs, flour and cheese were neatly organized in the counter, ready to be turned into a meal. 

“If this goes wrong, I'm ordering a happy meal.” You complained, putting the things you brought to make your favorite dessert, a classic that you learnt with a Brazilian friend of yours – Brigadeiro. It's actually the only thing that you can cook without burning down the whole house.  

“First, we gotta make the pasta.” The latino said, and you grimaced. 

“Why do we have to make it? Isn't it easier to just, you know, buy the pasta and cook it?”  

He shrugged. “Yeah, it’s easier. But making it is so much fun!” He said, with a smile on his face, and started pouring flour on the counter, making a small tower and soon making a hole in it. Then he stopped and looked at you. 

“What? Is there something on my hair?” You asked, brushing off your hair, which made Leo laugh. 

“No, no. I need you to grab six eggs and crack them here.” He said, gesturing towards the bowl.  

“Oh.” You mumbled and picked up the bowl, cracking the eggs in it and being extra careful with the shell. When you finished, you looked at him with puppy eyes. “What now?”  

“Put them here.” He said, gesturing to the hole in the flour. You nodded and poured the eggs there. “Now, you washed your hands, right?” You nodded again. “Great. Now, you have to mix the eggs and the flour until we have a smooth dough; the pasta!” 

You just nodded and put your hands to work. It was cute, since you didn’t seem to know what you were doing, and it was just so cute the way you were unsure on whether you were doing the right thing or not.  

“You’re doing great, y/n/n.” He assured. If you looked up, you’d see a proud smile on his face. 

After a few minutes of squeezing and mixing the dough, it was finally ready. You looked up at Leo’s face, a proud smile on your face and shining eyes. Maybe cooking wasn’t really that bad, after all. Not if you had a good teacher and friend around. 

He was starstruck. He couldn’t even move. You were just so pretty, flour all over your arms and hands, a little spot on your cheek white from when you rubbed the back of your hand on your face. He wanted nothing more than to kiss you in that moment.  

But he knew he couldn’t. He shouldn’t do it. Couldn't risk his friendship with you.  

And yet you were so tempting, so pretty like that. In his kitchen, with his apron – which was slightly too big for your tiny frame – and with him.  

“So, what do we do now?” You asked, interrupting the trance he was in. He shook his head and blushed, embarrassed to be caught like that.  

“Uh... the- the eggs. We need to make the eggs.” He said, blushing after getting caught staring at you. “You can whisk the yolks while I cook the bacon. Is that alright with you?”  

“Mhm. You just need to teach me how to separate the yolks.” You said, with a smile.  

You two continued the cooking, with Leo cooking the bacons till they were golden brown and crispy while you whisked the egg yolks and the cheese together. It was a fun night, where you ate the food you made – which was delicious, by the way – and had fun with your best friend. 

The only out of the ordinary thing was that the whole time you were there, the only thing you wanted was to jump on Leo’s lap and kiss the hell out of him.  

And his train of thought was not that far away from yours. 

Don't get me wrong, he loved to spend platonic time with you, of course. But he really, really wanted to kiss you.  

‘Oh, for my father’s sake, what I wouldn’t give to kiss her.’  

“...what?” You asked, your face clearly redder with his – more than sudden – confession.  

You never thought he’d want to kiss you, much less give yourself the hope that maybe someday that’d happen. No, it was selfish, and you knew – or at least thought – that he’d never ever like his best friend.  

But here he was, saying how much he’d give in exchange for a kiss.  

“Oh, shit- I said that out loud, didn’t I? I’m so sorry, Y/n, you can really pretend this never happened, I just-” AAAAAND he was rambling. Again. So, the easiest way out of that situation was, obviously, shut him up with a kiss.  

He immediately melted. His hands stopped flying around his face and went to graze your neck and waist, unsure, but ready to search.  

It was one of the best kisses you’ve ever had, and it was definitely the most awaited one. His lips were cracked and raspy, and he tasted sweet like the juice you had.  

When you finally pulled away, both of your cheeks were red and there was a smile playing on both of your lips.  

“I kinda love you.” You admited.  

“Good, ‘cause i love you too, princesa.” 

[thebiggerbear]

Follow Me Into the Dark - One - Never Thought I'd See You Again

Summary: The last person you expected shows up on one of the worst days of your life. Why on earth is Dean Winchester here and why is he asking you about your connections to the deceased?

A/N: Here we are. Part 1. This was what I originally intended for the "Sleep. I"ll keep you safe" prompt response but I ended up changing it because this felt too long to simply be a prompt response or even a one shot and I couldn't bear to cut it down to try to make it fit. It felt like the more it took form as I wrote, the more it deserved a proper fleshing out. So, alas, a short story. It's just an idea that I really had to explore. Not gonna lie, this might get a little dark. Hope this is alright.

This would be taking place during season 15.

All unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.

Warnings: implied familicide; implied deaths of children; angst; heartbreak; grief; language (I guess?)

Word Count: 4814

Series Masterlist

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel

Series Taglist: @globetrotter28; @roseblue373

Dean Taglist: @deans-spinster-witch; @birdiellie; @heartlessdelusions

SPN Taglist: @just-levyy

You sat in the pristine living room and stared at the coffee table as people milled around you. You could hear the hushed whispers of mourning for them, pity for you, and worst of all, judgment and condemnation of him. If you could, you’d throw each and every one of them out of this house right now. But it wouldn’t change the fact that they were gone. Every single one of them…gone.

You glanced up and caught sight of a framed picture of your niece holding onto her baby brother, smiling wide for the camera. You would never get to hold either of them again, chase Thea around the house and hear her squeals of laughter, tickle Tanner’s belly to hear those happy gurgles that only a baby could make — never again. A tear slipped from your eye that you quickly wiped away. 

You were just about to get up and head into the kitchen to try to escape the harpy on your right, loudly whispering about how she’d always known something was off, when two tall men wearing suits entered your vision. Your eyes widened when you recognized one of them, and his expression mirrored your shocked one.

“Dean?” You asked in disbelief. You felt as if you had been sucker punched. Of course, on the absolute worst day of your life, he would show back up. The universe clearly had it in for you and wanted to destroy whatever little piece of you that was left. It had already brought you to your knees but that wasn’t enough. As if you weren’t already hollow inside…it wanted to finish the job.

The taller man to Dean’s left glanced back and forth between you. “Uh, do you two know each other?”

Dean looked at a loss for words for a moment but managed to answer with “You might say that.”

Seeing your face, Dean immediately looked apologetic. No, you couldn’t do this. Not today of all days. Not here, not now. “Right,” you muttered before making a hasty retreat to the kitchen as you’d planned to do prior to their arrival. You didn’t even bother looking back. Hopefully, Dean and his friend would just leave.

You busied yourself with doing the dishes; you figured you’d get a head start on them now. A kindly neighbor had offered to do them but you shook your head and took over, not saying a word. Thankfully, whoever had been in the room had vacated it, giving you your space. You were grateful because you weren’t sure if you could take one more “I’m so sorry, dear” or “Did you have any idea?” You threw yourself into the mundane chore, opting not to use the dishwasher next to you. You needed the distraction, to focus on something other than how you were broken inside. You did your best not to cry when you came across the coffee cup your sister-in-law had helped Thea to make for Father’s Day this year. It was similar to the “Best Aunt Ever” one they’d sent you for your birthday.

Several dishes later, you heard a quiet throat clearing behind you but you refused to turn around to look or stop what you were doing. You knew who it was; you’d practically felt him walk into the room.

“Listen, Y/N, I’m sorry if—”

“Why are you here?”

That question seemed to throw him off guard. Good. “I wanted to say I’m—”

“No,” You cut him off before he could finish saying the two words you now hated with a passion. God knows he’d said it enough to you before he’d left you in the dust back in Sedona. “Why are you here?”

“We— I mean, my brother and I, we were in town and—”

You spun around, your eyes wide. “That was Sam?”

He gave you a nervous yet proud smile. “Uh, yeah. That’s Sammy.”

After a moment, you nodded and went back to doing the dishes. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed that Dean had moved closer, looking unsure and slightly fidgeting. 

“So you… You knew the family?”

You stopped for a moment, thinking maybe you didn’t want to have this conversation that he seemed intent on having. You’d closed the book on him years ago and there was no reason to rehash any of it. It was the same old story anyway: girl meets boy; girl has incredible sex with boy; girl spends a few weeks holed up with boy; girl falls hard for boy and makes the mistake of telling him; boy immediately breaks her heart by telling her he doesn’t feel the same and then leaves girl behind to deal with the fallout of a shattered heart alone. Definitely nothing to rehash there. “You never answered my question. Why are you here?”

“Sam and I were in town and we just happened to see an article online about what happened.”

You huffed out a snort as you slipped another wet dish into the drying rack. “Article online about what happened…” 

“I meant that we—”

The anger that had been simmering all day suddenly started coming to the surface as you replayed his words over and over in your head. “Is that what you and Sam do? Look around for funerals to crash and poke around because you and your brother have some morbid curiosity you need to satisfy? To set up your next true crime podcast or YouTube channel? What?” 

“What? Podcast? No. That’s not what I—”

“You know what, Dean, I don’t even care. Just take your brother and get out. I have enough to deal with today without you screwing up my life yet again.” How dare he? He was definitely not the man you remembered. Or maybe he was; maybe he was the man who had used you and left you behind without once looking back.

He laid a gentle hand on your shoulder but that was it. “Y/N, I didn’t mean—”

You shirked his hand off. “Just go,” you yelled, feeling a sudden rush of fury charge through you. “That’s what you’re good at! Just leave, Dean, and don’t look back!” At the same time, the glass in your grip suddenly shattered, making you gasp as red rivulets began to run down your palm.

Dean was suddenly there with a dish towel, gently cradling your hand as he slowly pulled a small shard of glass out, making you hiss in pain. He then ran your hand under the water, eliciting another pained hiss, before wrapping the towel tightly around your hand. “There a first aid kit here somewhere?”

“In the bathroom, I think.”

Dean glanced over to where you gestured and nodded. “Alright, hold this tight and take a seat. I’ll be right back.” You did as he instructed, quietly thinking over what just happened. Dean was incredibly focused and on it, no hesitation, but that wasn’t what gave you pause. Where did that spike of anger come from? And more disturbingly, why did you have the strongest urge to throw that glass at him before it actually broke in your hand? You weren’t a violent person by any means; you never put your hands on another person, never had the urge to. Sure, you’d imagined slapping a guy that deserved it when he got too handsy while being an arrogant jerk one time but you never actually felt the burning impulse that you felt just before. You glanced over at the photo mug in the drying rack and tears sprang to your eyes as you felt your heart break yet again (how was there anything left to break at this point?) when you realized maybe you actually were that type of person after all. The very worst sort of person that had some darkness or bad inside them that was lying dormant waiting for the right victim to come along so you could unleash it on them.

You tried to shake the hopeless thoughts from your head. You knew that was your shock, grief, and misery speaking. Instead, you changed the lens to a logical one and began to explain away what had happened. Perhaps it had been Dean’s words or his very appearance. Or it could be what had happened and why you were here today. Or maybe it was even a combination of everything. The glass you had broken hadn’t been light, sure, but perhaps there had been a crack in it before that you hadn’t noticed. And it absolutely made sense that you were lashing out at Dean. He had shown up out of nowhere and began asking questions because of an article he’d read online, not even one of them being a simple ‘how are you?’. He hadn’t seen you in years and while he might not have known exactly who you were in relation to this situation, you were here for a funeral and you were washing dishes, everyone was trying to give you their condolences and watching you with pity — didn’t that account for something in his mind?

You didn’t have much more time to think on it when Dean suddenly reappeared with the first aid kit in hand. He laid it down on the table in front of you and slipped his jacket off, throwing it over the back of an empty chair. He quickly rolled up his shirt sleeves and took the seat next to you, gently taking your hand and carefully unfurling your fingers. “Alright, let’s see what we’ve got.”

You watched as he studied the slice in your palm. “Not too deep,” he approved. He then began checking your skin for any other glass fragments or cuts. When he determined you were good, he began to soak a cotton ball with peroxide before turning a wide smile on you. “Did you hear the one about the priest and the cop?”

Your brows furrowed. He was now trying to make jokes? Seriously? Not to mention, no, you’d never heard of that one nor did you want to. “The priest and the—” You let out a loud hiss and you dug your teeth into your bottom lip. “Fuck,” you painfully whispered. 

You moved your gaze from the cotton ball being dabbed against your broken skin to Dean who was watching you intently. He gave you an apologetic smile. “Sorry,” he murmured.

“It’s fine,” you forced out as he continued to clean you up.

“So you didn’t tell me how you knew the family.” It was obvious he was trying to distract you from the painful stings of the ointment he was using but it also set your teeth on edge that he was still trying to get answers out of you that he wasn’t entitled to. 

When you didn’t respond, he glanced up at you expectantly.

Fine. Whatever. Let him judge along with all the others. I don’t care. It’s not like he matters to me anymore. “He was my brother,” you whispered.

Sure enough, his green eyes opened wide in surprise. “He was your brother?”

You gave a reluctant nod, choosing to glance around the room rather than look at him. 

“So the kids, they were…”

Your vision blurred slightly and you were unable to speak due to the lump that had been in your throat all day, making it hard to swallow. You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from crying. You were resolved that you would not cry in front of anyone today, and you definitely would not cry in front of Dean Winchester. He’d seen enough of your tears back in Arizona.

You felt the movements on your hand cease altogether and you turned back to see the pity you’d been getting all day staring back at you. You hated it. “I’m so sorry.”

You nodded as if on autopilot and dropped your gaze back to your hand, waiting for him to finish so you could get out of here, away from him, away from the pity and the judgment that was sure to follow. He resumed the bandaging a moment later and you both spent the rest of the time in silence.

His brother’s appearance broke it. “Everything okay in here?”

Dean glanced up at you before looking at Sam. “Uh, yeah. Just a little accident but she’s good as new.” You saw him wince slightly at the words though he tried to hide it. That ticked your irritation a little higher though you had no idea why.

“May I?” Sam asked you, pulling out one of the empty chairs. At your subtle nod, he took a seat. You knew you should introduce yourself, finally officially meet the younger brother you’d heard so much about years ago, but you didn’t have it in you. You also weren’t surprised when Dean didn’t move to introduce you or that it was painfully obvious that he had never told Sam about you which just made you feel worse. It didn’t hurt, not in the way it would have back then, but it was like someone scratched a nail lightly along a long healed scar you had which would make you flinch slightly, hoping the nail would go away and forever leave the injury site untouched. Like a crater in the earth from a small asteroid; best to just leave it be and let nature take its course.

You flexed your hand as Dean put the dressings back into the kit. 

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Sam offered.

Feeling that autopilot mode come back into play, you mumbled, “Thank you.”

“I can’t imagine how tough this has been on you and your family.” You nearly snorted; what family? Perhaps they hadn’t noticed but you were it. “But if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to ask you a couple of questions about Scott and Leah.”

You briefly closed your eyes in pain at hearing their names, but not before you saw Dean’s head snap up to give Sam a look. “Not now.” He spoke in a tone that brooked no argument. 

Sam’s brows furrowed in confusion and he tilted his head questioningly, but remained silent.

You decided you’d had more than enough and you slowly got to your feet. Dean stood up as well, his hands reaching out to you as if to steady you, hanging in the air and unsure. You simply stared at him until he lowered his arms and compulsively swallowed. You spared a glance over at Sam and then turned to leave.

“Y/N.”

You stopped in your tracks but didn’t turn around. 

“Is there anything we can do? Anything you need?” Dean softly asked.

Anything they could do…anything you needed… You needed your family back, you needed to turn back the hands of time and get here sooner when Leah had called you out of the blue last week and begged you to come talk to Scott, saying he wasn’t acting like himself and she was worried. But since that didn’t appear to be an option, you simply shook your head and quietly answered, “Thank you for coming.” You then continued your trek out of the room, past the people who continued to offer you empty condolences or mutter statements like “They seemed like such a happy family”, and headed up the stairs, not caring in the least that you had a house full of people expecting you to be present so they could offer meaningless sympathies to someone. You ran to the bathroom and shut yourself inside it, sinking down behind the door and burying your face into your arms, hiding until everyone left and you could be alone again. You may have let out a few tears, a few quiet sobs, but no one would ever know.

“Dean, we can’t just leave her,” Sam tried to reason with his brother as they passed the crowd slowly making their way out of the home and headed towards the Impala. “We don’t even know what we’re dealing with yet.”

Dean pulled his keys out of his pocket, opening the back door of Baby to toss his jacket into. After you’d gone upstairs, he’d finished the dishes so you wouldn’t have to. He wouldn’t admit it to Sam but seeing the glass sticking out of your skin, you bleeding — it bothered him tremendously. It might have been a simple cut that had been easily patched up but it was you. It didn’t sit right with him just like this whole case hadn’t from the get go. 

He certainly hadn’t been expecting to see you after all of this time, while he was on a case of all things. He had hoped you were off living your life somewhere, happy as could be, in love, maybe have a kid or two — whatever you’d wanted. He had wanted you to have a normal life, a life untainted by the things that go bump in the night, something he would never get to experience himself. That was why he’d done the impossible and left you back in Sedona all those years ago. Granted, he’d been young and untethered and idiotic but those weeks he spent with you, those he would never forget. You were gorgeous, funny as hell, great in bed, you had a killer smile, and oh did you have one hell of a kind heart. You were a good girl with a wild streak who for some reason picked him though you could have had any number of guys knocking at your door. How could he not have fallen head over heels for you? And when you told him you loved him, being the first to say it between you, he’d felt something he never had before. When he was sixteen, he thought he knew what love was but boy had he been wrong.

Dean had wanted to stay with you back then, to hunker down and see where things went between you. After all, what would it hurt to put down roots for a little bit and not have to travel from motel room to motel room? To not have to sleep in the Impala for once? Besides, if Sam got to go to college and live his life, why couldn’t Dean do the same for a little while? It’s not like he would be quitting hunting or abandoning his dad to it alone, so why not? He may have only been 23 but he wanted to experience something he had always dreamed about but was told he would never have, and he wanted to experience it with you. Hell, you didn’t even need to stay in Sedona; you could settle down in Phoenix or Mesa or Tucson — or even travel to a different state. As long as he had you, he didn’t care where the two of you settled.

But of course, that had only been a dream, a momentary fantasy that felt real enough to almost touch before it was snatched out of his reach. John had called and demanded that he haul ass to Las Cruces to help him on a werewolf hunt, reminding him that he had an obligation to the family. Especially now that they were one man down thanks to Sammy’s big college adventure. Dean had tried to tell his father about you and the plan you both came up with, he really did, but John wouldn’t hear of it. The older man insisted it was infatuation, not the real thing, that he was too young to think about settling down, not to mention he was a hunter. And his dad scoffed when Dean mentioned that the way he felt about you reminded him of the stories John used to tell him and Sam about their parents meeting when they were young. He even proudly mentioned that you knew the words to every one of his favorite Led Zeppelin songs; he’d checked. He just knew John would love you if he’d be willing to meet you.

John then hit him with the truth that Dean had kept buried deep down and refused to acknowledge. If he stayed with you, you would never be safe. Even if he left hunting to be with you, you’d forever have a target on your back from every nasty evil thing he’d ever hunted. Just look at what happened to his Mary after she’d left hunting for a normal life. It followed her right up to Sammy’s nursery that night back in 1983 and killed her in front of his eyes. Dean’s own eyes had misted up as John’s words registered and from the silence, John knew he had been heard.

“Do what you have to do, son. I’ll see you in the morning.” The line clicked and Dean stared at the phone, a tear slipping down his cheek.

Needless to say, Dean had broken it off with you that very day, determined to ignore your tears and heartbroken pleas, knowing he was doing the right thing by you. He said what he knew you needed to hear, though it cut him up inside to say it. 

“I love you, Dean. Please,” you’d tearfully begged him. “Don’t leave.”

“I have to. I didn’t realize this was getting serious. I mean, we holed up together for a few weeks, we had some great sex, we had some laughs, some drinks, and a good time together, but that’s all it was ever going to be. You had to know that going into this, when you took me home from the bar that night. I’m pretty sure I even told you that I was only looking for a fun time while I was waiting for my next job. No strings attached because I’m just rolling through, remember?” 

As he watched the heartbreak play upon your face, he cowardly looked away as he rolled up his spare pairs of jeans and threw them into his duffel. If he looked at you, you’d see just how much you meant to him and just how much this was hurting him to have to do this to both of you.

“I’m 23 for Christ’s sake. I’m not looking to settle down, move in with a girlfriend, or get married and start cranking out kids. I want to live my life before I even start thinking about any of that crap.”

“But you said that you wanted to find a place together. You said you wanted to be with me. You said—” You whispered brokenly.

Dean’s jaw hardened and he turned away from you under the guise of grabbing his t-shirts and Henleys from the dresser drawer, shutting his eyes tightly. “It was just all talk. You know, us talking about what we’d do if our lives were different, what we’d want, like in a fantasy future. That kind of thing. I never actually meant any of it.” He heard the tiny gasp behind him and his fingers clenched around the material in his hands. Just get it done already. You’ve got work to do. The thought had been in John’s voice but Dean knew the thought was his own. He had to do this. He didn’t want to hurt you but he didn’t have any other choice. He couldn’t tell you why he had to leave and why he had to go without you. He couldn’t tell you that he was breaking your heart to keep you safe. He couldn’t admit that he was breaking his own so you could go and live a normal life, something he would never get to experience himself, so you could be happy after you forgot about him and dismissed him as a fun and wild lay that one time when you were young. That thought cut deeply into his chest and his resolve strengthened. No more drawing this out. You needed to let him go and move on; it was the only way to keep what he hunted in the shadows from ever touching you. 

“I didn’t think you did, either,” he forced out. Though he heard the beginning of a sob behind him in response, he made himself open his eyes and turned around to pack the rest of his stuff. He never allowed himself to look over at you to see the pain he’d inflicted on you; he heard it well enough.

Even when he threw his bags in the backseat of Baby and slammed the door shut, he refused to meet your wet gaze. He kept his hands glued to his sides, clenched in fists, because they itched to pull you into his arms for one last hug, for one last kiss to your head, but he wouldn’t allow himself to. He didn’t deserve it. “Take care of yourself, Y/N.” Without waiting for your response, he got into the Impala and started her up, revving the engine before pulling away from you for good.   

He would never forget the devastated look on your face in his side view mirror as he drove away from you, how you’d hugged yourself and brokenly turned to go back into the motel room the two of you had shared. It wasn’t any consolation but he was glad he’d handled the bill earlier and he’d even charged another week to one of the cards he had so this way you wouldn’t have to worry about a thing. You could take a little time to figure out where to go from there. Sure, if his dad knew, he’d tear him a new one, but he never intended on telling John or anyone about you. You’d be better protected that way. No demon or witch could mine that information. And since he himself didn’t know where you’d go, they wouldn’t be able to get it out of him either. Not to mention, he told himself over and over that he didn’t love you until he began to believe it. That you two wouldn’t have worked out and you had just about run your course before John had called him. Who was to say that you two would have even been able to settle on an apartment or house to move into together? You barely knew each other. Plus, you were both young and you would change as you got older, as people do, and your dreams, desires, and needs would change. Either hunting would have taken a toll on the relationship or you would have grown apart. So, though it had been harsh, he had actually done you both a favor. He spared you both heartache later on by causing you a little at that moment. Dean was very good about compartmentalizing things when it suited him. You were safe and that was all that mattered. So yes, he made himself forget about you and how he felt about you, and he didn’t look back. That look of yours, though, that destroyed and heartbroken look…it had haunted him for months. But he told himself that if that was the price of protecting you, he’d gladly pay it. With enough alcohol, hunts, and faceless women, the memory of the look all but faded into the distance of the past. 

Eventually, time passed and then of course, Cassie had come along. He’d learned from what had happened with you and he’d been up front with Cassie about who he really was and that didn’t end well. Not to mention his time with Lisa and Ben. But over this period of time, he had also finally convinced himself that you had probably gotten over him and found somebody else who could give you the life he never could, the life you deserved. He wanted that for you and yet it seemed that no matter how hard he’d tried to give it to you in his own way all those years ago, the supernatural and all the pain and devastation it brought seemed to have found you anyway. 

“We’re not leaving her,” Dean assured his brother after breaking himself out of his reverie. Ignoring Sam’s confused expression at Dean opening the driver side door, he glanced up towards the upper level of the house, knowing you were hiding away somewhere beyond those walls. An elderly neighbor had assured him that she and her husband would stay in the home for the next hour or so in case you needed anything.

He slipped into the driver seat, followed by Sam getting in on the passenger side, and started Baby up. He put the car into drive and pulled away from the curb, intent on getting to the motel to change and ready himself for the conversation he knew he needed to have with you now. Truthfully, it was a conversation he should have had with you a long time ago. It was time to give you the talk. He’d left you alone back in that motel room all of those years ago; he wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice.

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[yellowjackets96]

i owe you a black eye and two kisses / angus tully x reader

summary / after defending your best friend’s honor in a scuffle with kountze, he decides to take first aid into his own hands.

warnings / mentions of blood, bruises, and general injuries

word count / 2K even!

heyyy, baby’s first x reader fanfiction! cannot believe i have been alive nearly twenty damn years and never once did this. who crode?

You cannot seem to remember when the blood started to pour from your mouth or the moment you realized Kountze’s nose should not be pointed in that direction, but both moments hit you like a freight train when Angus grabs your arm.

“Holy shit!” he exclaims, fingers prodding at the newborn black eye on your face. “You– you– my god.”

As cooly as possible, you pop your neck to the side and smirk. “Heh. All in a day’s work.”

“You could’ve killed him,” one of Kountze’s goons says, tending to his nose. The blonde bully is shell-shocked, a state of mind you previously believed to be inherently against his nasty nature.

You scoff, shrugging at the lackey. “I’m sure his daddy can help,” you remark, spinning around on your heel and striding out of the room, with a hyped Angus in tow. He’s so energized, he could probably shoot himself off the walls like a projectile and fly back to you like a boomerang.

“I can’t believe you had that in you,” he mutters, still quite bewildered by your sucker punch. “In all my years of knowing you…I don’t think he’ll ever bother me again, now.”

You turn slightly to grin at him. “Hey, I’m glad to hear it. Guy’s a real fuckface and a half. His reign of terror has gone on far too fucking long.”

Once you get to your modest dorm room towards the end of the hall, you feel Angus reach out and touch you once again, and he gazes at you sternly, his expression mirroring a way only your mom looks at you. You roll your eyes, hands not moving from turning the key in the door. “What’s the matter, Tully?”

“You didn’t have to do that,” he says, a deep grimace on his face. “He was shit-talking me, not you. And now you’ve got a black eye, your lip is busted, and you could’ve lost teeth, and–”

You swiftly cut him off. “So? You’re my best friend. I was simply defending your honor. Little shit shouldn’t be able to get away with mocking your familial situation. It’s not like you can control it.” Twisting the knob to the side, you gently push the door open and step into the room, eyeing him slightly. “You can come in, if you’re not planning on lecturing me.”

“Well,” Angus says, shutting the door behind him. “You can ignore my chastising to high heaven, but you’re still going to need some wound care for the black-and-blue knuckles, swollen eye, and split lip. Even if you don’t wanna ice the bruises and bumps, though, you need to keep the lip stuff from the point of possible infections.”

“You’re kidding me, right?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at him. “Everything that could possibly hurt is just…dully throbbing. And I’m sure all the bleeding was due to how shallow the cuts were. I need nothing more than an ibuprofen and a bandaid.”

For the third time, the boy takes a grip on your arm, lanky digits wrapping around your cold skin gently enough to leave no mark, but firmly enough to stop you definitively in your tracks. “Sit down,” he states, the edge of hoarseness in his voice causing it to be barely above a whisper. “Now.”

You find his forceful tone compelling enough to follow his commands, pushing your swivel chair around until it faces forward and reluctantly take a seat. “Fine. Have it your way.”

“Thank you,” Angus says, winking at you before immediately diving headfirst into rummaging through your cabinets and drawers. “You’re gonna need the whole nine yards of first aid care here. Just be patient, okay? I know from you doing it for me that the process tends to be lengthy.”

“Whatever you say,” you murmur. “As long as you don’t break anything valuable during your expedition into my belongings.”

He turns to you with a hearty smirk, arms filled with cotton pads, alcohol wipes, hydrogen peroxide bottles, bandages, and tweezers, among multiple other things. “Oh yeah?” he says, seemingly challenging you as he places the supplies on the desk behind you. “And what would you do about it if I did?”

“Probably cut up my end of our friendship bracelets,” you reply, not missing a beat. “You don’t even wear yours, anyway.”

Angus does not even need to speak to refute your claim as he pushes his sweater sleeve past his watch, revealing the braided object in question is still on display on the part of his arm that no one can see. Your jaw goes slightly askew at the revelation. “I stand corrected.”

He chuckles, sufficiently satisfied with the exchange as he flips the cap open on one of the peroxide bottles, pressing it against a cotton pad. Once he determines it to be prepared enough for your bloodied mouth, he looks over at you, eyebrows furrowed in thought. A moment of contemplation passes – he closely scans your face up and down, down and up, enough times to be able to sketch it perfectly from memory, as he nods to himself. With a steady step forward, he places the pad between his thumb and pointer finger and goes in, forcefully dabbing it against your bottom lip. All of the miniscule amounts of warmth escapes your body as you roughly suck air in through your teeth, grabbing a fistful of the cuff of his sweater.

“Does that hurt?” Angus asks, wide brown eyes filled with an entire galaxy’s worth of concern. “Be honest with me.”

You grind your teeth, putting as much effort as humanly possible into a brave face. “It stings, that’s for sure.”

He quickly withdraws the soggy gauze from your mouth. “Good news, then, ‘cause I’m already done with it.”

“Shit!” you exclaim, hands flying up to your bottom lip. “Really?”

Snickering at your shocked face, Angus tilts his head to the side, examining your injuries again. “Yup. I think you were right about it being shallow. I’m no med student, but I don’t think it’s at risk of developing any kind of infection.

Melting back into the chair, your face is overtaken by a relaxed smile, in spite of yourself. A few seconds pass before curiosity overtakes you and you peer over your shoulder to ogle at his activity. You’re met with the completely ridiculous sight of him attempting to maneuver a bandaid into a jar of petroleum jelly. “Jesus, Angus!”

He can’t help himself from laughing at your reaction. “What? You didn’t have any ointment!”

“You said my lip’s fine!” you respond. “Unless you were trying to soften the blow of my oncoming sepsis by lying to me.”

He shakes his head emphatically. “No. I just wanted to see if I could make it hurt less for you.”

“It doesn’t,” you insist, waving him off.

“Really?” he asks, folding his arms across his chest in judgment, once again harkening back to something an authority figure in your life would do. “Then why were you tugging at my shirt like a damn seven-year-old at a grocery store?”

You scowl at him, face overtaken by a shade of red that only appears when you’re trying not to laugh at him. “I hate you.”

Angus laughs a sharp ha!, face wrinkled up in a simper as he pulls himself back up to your level, an ice pack in either hand. “No, you don’t. You wouldn’t have kept me around for so long if you did.” He drops the ice packs in your lap and points at your cheek. “I can’t believe you were insisting on letting these wounds take care of themselves, dude. Your cheek’s swollen as hell.”

“How bad is it?” you curiously ask, brows quirked in thought.

“Well, the verdict’s already in that you’ll survive this,” he quips, earning a laugh from you. “So that’s out of the question, but if I didn’t already know you, I’d assume you either victoriously won or pitifully lost a professional boxing match.”

You playfully smack at his shoulder as he breaks into a laughing fit. “It was a compliment!” he defensively mutters, picking up one of the ice packs. “The thing’s a bona fide war wound, I swear. You look badass.”

“You should see the other guy,” you remark, watching him intently as Angus brings a hand up to your face, softly touching the ice pack to your bruise. “Also, I can’t believe you would call me badass. You must be buttering me up for the next time you have a bone to pick with Teddy.”

“Nah,” he denies, raising the pack slightly further up. “You’ve always been badass, ever since we were old enough to speak our minds. It’s a mindset in my eyes, since you never really looked like I imagined one being.”

Your face instantly softens as you gaze at him, studying the way he intently deals with something as uneventful as a bruised cheek. “You’re just being nice because I look like hell.”

Angus pulls his attention away from the ice pack to meet your lingering eyes. “I’m as serious as a car crash. You’ve always had this self-assured attitude, no matter who you were dealing with. The way that I don’t back down from a physical fight is exactly how you are in verbal sparring matches, but you’re, just, so much cooler in terms of that, ‘cause you refuse to relent on your beliefs. I could never be so firm when I speak to people, even if I try my very fuckin’ darndest.”

“I-I had-” you stammer heavily, effectively caught off-guard by his words. “No idea you thought so highly of me. That’s so incredibly sweet.”

“Well, you deserve to hear it,” he says, taking the ice pack off of your face. “You’ve been such a constant in my life, and I seriously don’t know who or where I would be without you. Hell, you even BEGGED your parents to let you transfer to every single school I ended up in post-expellings! I can’t help but idolize you. You were born with an insatiable fighting spirit. Nothing and nobody can get to you.”

Before you can form a single coherent thought, you blurt out four words you would never even dream of saying to Angus Tully. “Can I kiss you?”

Silence falls over the two of you like a curtain as Angus gazes up at you, eyes full of wonder, mouth hanging open. Before long, his lips turn upward in one of his signature smiles. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Lifting his hands up, he gingerly cups your cheeks with his hands and dives in, pressing your lips together in a delicate embrace. You close your eyes on impact, heart lighting up with an intensity you are not sure you have ever felt. Holy shit! Kountze must have killed you! This has to be heaven! The moments pass fleetingly before Angus finally pulls away, a genuine, natural, adorable little grin on his face as he sheepishly doesn’t face you, cheeks burning a soft, passionate pink. You must have been an idiot for never making a move all these years, but at least you finally got struck with the urge to do so.

“Y- your c-ch-” and now, like poetic justice, he is the one who’s been bitten by the stutter bug. “Your cheek looks better already. How about we get some ibuprofen in you and then we – okay, you have to step in if I embarrass myself here – step off of campus to go get some dinner?”

You’re smirking now, trying not to giggle at the unseen shy side he keeps so carefully locked away. “Angus Tully, are you asking me on a date?” He tries his very best not to avoid eye contact with you again as he nervously nods in confirmation. You reach out for his hand, interlocking your fingers together like puzzle pieces. “Well, then. I’d have to say what I’m sure you’ve been waiting to hear come out of my mouth all these years – yes.”

[lookismfanfics]

Hii! Hope you're doing okay. May I request some of the characters accidentally hitting their calm maleReader instead of the enemy and now he's getting a huge bruise on where they hit him? thx u

Idk how many characters I'm allowed to choose so I'm just gonna name a few and you can pick..? 😅

Jake / Vasco / Zack / Jace / Vin Jin / Warren / Megumi / Goo

“𝐌𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐝!”

Warnings: Mentions of violence, fluff, not really fluff though, cursing, mentions of balls.

Jake • Vasco • Zack • Jace • Vin • Warren • Megumi • Goo

Hey anon! I’m doing good, thanks for asking! ♡︎ I decided to do everyone you requested because yes 😩 I also changed it up a little with the “enemy” part. Some of them are petty interactions, and others are full-fledged brawls lol.

𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞

𝟑𝐫𝐝 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ✧ He was focusing a little too hard.

✧ The same mantra kept echoing in Jake’s mind, urging him on: “keep fighting.”

✧ He was just a little caught up in everything, that’s all—

✧ He was absorbed in hearing the definitive crack of his opponents nose, feeling the warm spew of blood that followed a hit to the ribs, seeing the trail of bodies that followed his path

✧ These suckers were really something. There were so many of them, and they had been harassing this area for long enough

✧ Jake had called out to Jerry to ask “Where is he?” But hadn’t gotten a response

✧ Then there’s a rustle behind him

✧ A sneak attack.

✧ Instincts go: 📈

✧ He whips around, just barely seeing the glint of purpose in his opponents eyes

✧ “Jake!”

✧ He feels the warm contact of hitting a cheek. But Jake isn’t stupid and realizes his fatal error

✧ I mean… who would’ve guessed that the opponent would duck?

✧ “Sorry (Y/N)! Where’ve you been-?” He pants

✧ Honestly Jake has never been more ashamed. He did hit him, didn’t he?

✧ (Y/N) doesn’t seem fazed, he just keeps up whatever he was doing. “It’s fine… I’ve just been around.”

✧ The man is hardly panting… damn you (Y/N). You’re attractive even when you aren’t trying…

✧ (That’s what Jake thinks anyways)

𝟐𝐧𝐝 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ✧ As soon as the fight is over, Jake runs.

✧ His dress shoes slam against what bare concrete is left, avoiding the piles of unconscious and semi-conscious bodies.

✧ He tries not to panic. He has to play it cool, and not throw a fit.

✧ Eventually, he finds you talking to Brad, nursing your busted fists with your back to him. Jake let’s out a sigh, “Pretty nasty hit you took there.”

✧ A playful smile toys at his lips as he observes you. You turn to him, seemingly unscathed, nodding with a small smile, “Uh, yeah. Nice punch Boss.”

✧ He tries not to let the use of formalities affect him too much. (Inwardly wounded)

✧ “Are you sure you’re okay?” He asks, this time with a note of concern.

✧ “He thinks he has a concussion, boss,” Brad interrupts, just the hint of a smile intermingled with his serious tone.

✧ You ignore Jake’s slacked jaw and bewildered look, eyeing Brad tiredly, “So much for keeping a secret.”

✧ “You shouldn’t keep secrets from the boss- or your boyfr—”

✧ “(Y/N),” Jake drags his finger beneath your chin, prompting you to turn to him. “Is that tr…ue?”

✧ It’s not the thought of a concussion that made Jake stop.

✧ It’s…

✧ 😰

✧ “Your cheek… is this the one I hit?”

✧ You nod.

✧ “Well uh~ not to worry you but… it’s bruising just a little~” “It’s fine Jake-”

✧ Apparently he didn’t think it was “fine”.

✧ Jakes brows furrow together as he examines you. With the way his eyes darken and his smiles fades, He looks beyond apologetic; it’s as if guilt seeps into his every movement.

✧ “You don’t have to worry about it,” you smile. There’s not even the slightest hint of anxiety in your voice, but it does nothing to reassure Number One of Big Deal.

✧ “Yeah but you know I will,” he smirks half-heartedly, quickly reverting back to his worried face.

✧ He’s never letting it go. Every time he sees the splotch of that massive dark bruise, he feels the urge to apologize.

✧ It’s beyond an inside joke too.

✧ Anyone brings it up jokingly, and his head sags and a shadow runs across his face.

✧ “Sorry about that (Y/N).”

✧ “Jake, it healed months ago.”

𝐕𝐚𝐬𝐜𝐨

𝟑𝐫𝐝 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ✧ Fights like these were becoming more often.

✧ Vasco was adjusting to the oncoming rush of bad guys. He was confident in his abilities. Sure of himself; he was bound to crush them all.

✧ But…

✧ “(Y/N)? Are you alright?”

✧ His dark eyes scan the battlefield of boys swinging at each other, searching for one man in particular.

✧ He catches him in his sight. (Y/N).

✧ “Are you almost done—” “Euntae, focus.”

✧ The tone of his voice sends a chill down Vasco’s spine.

✧ The cogs in his brain stop working for a second as he continues fighting on autopilot. He wants to keep an eye on (Y/N). He doesn’t want to loose sight of him.

✧ Vasco feels a harsh smack to his ribs, knocking the wind out of him. What was that? His instincts heighten as his body reacts frantically.

✧ He turns to the guy fighting him, readying one of numerous forbidden moves just for him.

✧ Once he sends the guy flying it’s back to looking for (Y/N)-

✧ “Euntae-!”

✧ Smack.

𝟐𝐧𝐝 𝐏𝐎𝐕

✧ “(Y/N)?! (Y/N) are you okay!? Please wake up!”

✧ Vasco was reduced to a sobbing mess.

✧ You open your eyes, staring at his red face damp with tears. It’s an odd sight- especially since you only fell down a couple of seconds ago.

✧ “Yeah Vasco… I’m fine,” you offer a small smile. Even if it does hurt, you know making a big deal out of nothing would be problematic.

✧ You act calm. Chill. Even a little nonchalant.

✧ Vasco remains crouched on the ground while you dust off your pants, glancing around the parking lot littered with bloodied “bad guys.”

✧ “You’re positive that you’re alright?” He asks slowly, staring at you with concern.

✧ “Yeah. It’ll probably form a bruise at the most,” you reply. You touch your chest, seemingly unfazed.

✧ You feel awful for lying to him. Your chest feels like it’s on fire. It’s sore and laborious to breathe… but you won’t tell him that.

✧ “Sorry.” Vasco says simply.

✧ No one brings it up until you’re undressing at the Burn Knuckles base.

✧ Everyone is slipping out of their jumpsuits and into more comfortable, casual clothes. It smells sweaty and feels humid… but somehow Leon always manages to steal the bathroom before anyone else. (Thankfully)

✧ You listen quietly, offering smiles as Vasco retells a story about him and Jace, obviously awaiting your reaction.

✧ He doesn’t intentionally flaunt his muscles in front of you… but sometimes it seems that way. That’s partially why you like to keep most of your clothes on around him- so he doesn’t start comparing. 😳

✧ “That’s funny~” you reply to one of his stares that begged for your approval. You lift your shirt off over your shoulders, slinging it around your neck as you grab a fresh one.

✧ The room: … You: … You: 🫥

✧ “…What?”

✧ Vasco’s eyes start to gloss over as he frantically grabs your shoulders, examining your bare chest.

✧ “(Y/N)… who hit you?” “I’m sure lots of people did…”

✧ Vasco shakes his head, rubbing his hand across the massive dark splotch that stains your skin. The discolored purple and red resembles a fist… but it doesn’t seem to click to him.

✧ If he means right there… then…. “Probably you.”

✧ You smirk, shaking your head as Vasco stares at you in horror. The bruise doesn’t really bother you- you’re covered in them after today anyway.

✧ Of course you handle his outbursts calmly… reassuring him that you’re not angry.

✧ But he continues, eyes scanning over you for any more bruises that he might’ve given you. “I’m sorry (Y/N)… I didn’t mean for that to happen…”

✧ Vasco: 🥺😰

✧ He apologizes a million times, often quietly and at random. ✧ No- he will not forgive himself.

✧ Yes… he forgets about it for a few weeks before remembering and apologizing all over again.

✧ Jace and the rest of the Burn Knuckles make sure to not ever bring it up again. You also are forced to wear some form of padding under your shirt whenever you get into a fight.

𝐙𝐚𝐜𝐤

✧ Zack isn’t gonna deny it. That guy is getting on his nerves.

✧ This was supposed to be a hang out with him and (Y/N). They were gonna chill and head to the movies. Maybe do some karaoke later.

✧ Just the two of them. Not even Mira was tagging along today.

✧ But then this guy showed up.

✧ Zack feels himself growing more agitated by the minute. He grits his teeth and looks in the opposite direction, willing himself to calm down.

✧ (Y/N) and him are on a park bench… and this idiot decides to stand behind them and catcall.

✧ “You work out bro~?”

✧ Zack is literally seething. (Y/N) has to put his hand on Zack’s leg to keep him from springing up.

✧ “Do you mind reading between the lines?” (Y/N) asks, flashing his three middle fingers before turning to Zack.

✧ “Wanna go to the theatre early? We could walk around-” he whispers, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie.

✧ Zack is still irked. His brows are knitted together tightly, but he simply shrugs and nods: “Whatever. Let’s just get away from this dunce.”

✧ The dunce, however, seems to really like being annoying. “Can I tag along with you two-?”

✧ “F*ck off,” Zack glares. He starts walking ahead, curling his hands into fists but keeping them shoved firmly in the corners of his pockets.

✧ He keeps his gaze trailed on the ground, trying to cool off. He’d hate to ruin this hang out with (Y/N) even more. So he’ll play it cool and be the bigger man- like Mira tells him to be. It’s hotter that way. ((Y/N) will think so too, right?)

✧ The smirk that spread across his lips disappears in a matter of moments.

✧ “Nice ass-!” The creep calls.

✧ And that’s it. The final straw.

✧ Zack is going for a straight jab. He’d be caught dead before he let someone get away catcalling (Y/N) of all people-

✧ He turns and slams his fist, making direct contact. He can hear the definitive clack of teeth, he watches as he stumbles backwards.

✧ But Zack realizes what he’s done…

✧ “S-Sh*t (Y/N)! What were you doing there-?” (Y/N) nurses his jaw tenderly, glaring. He sighs and turns to the guy, telling him to ‘beat it.’

✧ Zack moves to cup (Y/N)’s cheek, looking frantic. He mumbles ‘idiot’ over and over… but more to himself than anyone.

✧ He knows he’s screwed up big time. He’s insistent on helping (Y/N) walk… even though he isn’t dizzy and he claims his cheek isn’t sore.

✧ He tries to forget about it as they watch the movie… but he can’t. As soon as the lights in the cinema flicker on he scans (Y/N) for any bruising.

✧ “I can’t believe it’s so big…” “I already told you it’s fine.” “But- argh I should beat that guy to a pulp- you sure you’re okay?” “Yeah I’m sure, Zack.”

✧ He’s apologetic- but still an angry boy at heart.

𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐞

✧ In his defense- Jace is usually pretty good about “self control” and everything.

✧ He’s also pretty good about it reading the atmosphere. He can tell when the mood has turned sour or hostile.

✧ He’s able to “let it go” when there’s a petty misunderstanding. Most of the time.

✧ But today this one guy (Duri…?) is killing him.

✧ He’s been a nuisance for a few weeks now… but The Burn Knuckles never had the heart to tell him off. Even (Y/N) was pretty chill about the guy- and he was usually more fiery than Jace.

✧ But as of right now, Jace stands idly with Woong and (Y/N), listening to whatever BS that guy, Duri Lee, is spewing out.

✧ Woong and (Y/N) are listening boredly as the one-sided conversation turns from childish comparisons to full-fledged insults.

✧ Duri wraps his arm around (Y/N)’s shoulder, despite (Y/N) having shrugged him off twice already.

✧ Jace feels awful. He reminds himself of how jealous Johan was back during the One Night scandal. It’s embarrassing knowing that he’s feeling jealousy about… this.

✧ He’s not a jealous person… but Duri really gets on his nerves. If he keeps up his stupid act, his stupidity might spread to Jace… and then he’ll do something stupid.

✧ Even as Duri begins to degrade Jace himself, rambling a bunch of nonsense about how he “isn’t as smart as he looks”, Jace manages to keep it together. He feels a twinge of annoyance and glares, but he doesn’t say anything.

✧ The rest of the Burn Knuckles aren’t buying the bs anyway. So it’s fine.

✧ “Know you place, Duri.”

✧ Jace’s gaze snaps over to (Y/N). Did he hear him correctly? Did (Y/N) finally say something? He feels a small smile winding onto his face-

✧ “I know exactly where my place is!” Duri sputters indignantly. His look of shock is short lived and is soon replaced by a smirk. It’s highly probable that he’ll take a pathetic jab at redemption.

✧ Jace hates the way Duri’s eyes roam over (Y/N). He braces himself for what comes next.

✧ “It should be sweating over you, if you know what I mean.”

✧ Great. Gross.

✧ Jace turns to Duri now, scowling at him, “You wanna say that again? The Burn Knuckles don’t hit on each other, so don’t even think-” “Whatever Jace. Me and him were just gonna do some catching up~”

✧ Duri makes a crude gesture with his hands. He keeps his arm wrapped around (Y/N), who rolls his eyes and glares.

✧ (Y/N) sighs, “Or so you think. You do know that me and Jace are-”

✧ One kick- one harsh smack. Jace doesn’t know what he’s doing- but whatever it is lands Duri facedown on the floor.

✧ He’s startled by his own rashness. Stupidity really is contagious. He frowns down at Duri but doesn’t move anymore. “Like I said. Burn Knuckle members like you aren’t allowed to hit on their superiors.”

✧ He turns to embrace the startled and disappointed stares from Woong and (Y/N) (respectively)

✧ But naturally, Duri needs to have the last word. Like all PTJ small fries, he wants to sign his death certificate a little early.

✧ “That stupid hierarchy is never gonna get you laid,” he grumbles.

✧ Jace turns and throws all his weight into the kick-

✧ Blocked.

✧ (Y/N)…?

✧ (Y/N) has his arms outstretched in a block, giving Jace an unreadable stare. He sighs, releasing the second-in-command’s foot.

✧ “(Y/N)-” “That’s gonna leave a bruise.”

———

✧ Jace is sitting with (Y/N) a little latter. He still feels a pang of frustration when he remembers the little situation… as well as guilt for hitting (Y/N).

✧ (Y/N) rolls up his sleeves, looking over his arms quietly. Based on his eerie calmness, Jace can assume that there’s a pretty large bruise forming.

✧ Despite the knowing of guilt, Jace is a tad bit grateful for the intervention. He knows (Y/N) only stopped him for the sake of his dignity.

✧ “You’re not normally so passive-aggressive,” (Y/N) comments nonchalantly.

✧ “I know… I’m sorry.” Jace rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, feeling a touch of color flare in his cheeks.

✧ He promises to help ice it, and assures (Y/N) that he won’t do anything like that again. He just smiles dryly and waves it off.

✧ “You probably won’t have the need to,” he says.

✧ Jace looks up at him, his fingers still gingerly rubbing around the bruise. “Won’t have to… attack Duri?”

✧ (Y/N) nods, “He p*ssed himself, apparently.”

✧ Jace knows it’s wrong… honest to god he feels bad… but he couldn’t help but smirk at the thought.

(I swear I’m sorry this entire thing is a mess. I can’t decide which POV to stick to-)

𝐕𝐢𝐧 𝐉𝐢𝐧

✧ In his defense, Vin had recently gotten his glasses re-tinted… and so he was having some trouble adjusting.

✧ But it would’ve been nice if he didn’t walk by you in some grubby alleyway. What a nuisance. He just wanted to go home, listen to some rap, and eat his onion rings.

✧ But you… of course… found yourself in a predicament. 😔

✧ “You’re just gonna stand there?” You call, back pressed against the wall as you stare lazily past the punks you apparently offended.

✧ They seem ticked that your attention is suddenly elsewhere.

✧ Vin just stares at you, silent for a moment, before shoving his hands into his pockets. “It’s not my problem.”

✧ “They called me a d*ck-” you call. Although the familiarity of the term has nulled any offended emotions, you’re certain Vin has reserved insulting-you-rights for himself.

✧ “Not my problem,” Vin insists, pushing his glasses further up his nose.

✧ The punks continue to close in on you, throwing insults at the two of you- despite Vin being across the alley. You both ignore them.

✧ “Ah- they also called Mary fat.”

✧ “Still not my problem.”

✧ “They said Duke’s music is better than yours-”

✧ “Did not!”

✧ “And they called your sunglasses ‘gaudy’.”

✧ Which is followed by silence as one of the punks lowers a cigarette bud towards your cheek. You don’t flinch, staring past his shoulder at Vin.

✧ You wait in anticipation for Vin to say something. Anything. You’re so intent on seeing his reaction you hardly notice the burning sensation of the cigarette nearing your skin.

✧ “No they didn’t…” Vin mumbles. He adjusts his stance- and now you’re sure he isn’t going to abandon you.

✧ “Would you freaks shut up?!” The punk rolls his eyes in exasperation, pulling the bud away from your face and turning to Vin.

✧ “Or do you have somethin’ you wanna say too?” The delinquent flicks the cigarette to the side, staring your knight-in-shining-armor up and down reproachfully.

✧ You inwardly moan. Vin has lots of things he wants to say. It’s best not to get him started.

✧ “You talk too much,” Vin answers, and begins strutting forward.

✧ You crack your knuckles, relieved you won’t have to take them all on your own.

✧ “Anyway this is a waste of my time- so let’s just go (Y/N).” He shoves his hands deeper into his pockets, not at all prepared for the slap.

✧ Yes. A petty, weak, girlish, slap.

✧ A slap that knocks his sunglasses askew. You freeze.

✧ “Hey,” you call loudly, watching as their heads swivel towards you. “Don’t look at him. Say anything and I-”

✧ The loud noise of bones cracking interrupts you-

✧ Vin goes rampant, giggling and grinning like a school girl. Oh hell. You shrug and get into your own fighting stance. “Well I guess he’ll kick your asses anyways- so nevermind…” you mutter.

✧ Those stupid glasses. Distorting his vision all the time. Even…

✧ In fights.

✧ You feel numbness tingling through your arms as you avoid another swing of your opponents arm. Reaching up with a strike of your own, you manage to punch him in the ribs for a KO.

✧ You’re so focused. Vin is so distracted.

✧ You scan the two other guys already beaten to the ground, and look up to see Vin walking towards you victoriously—

✧ But instead he’s charging you with arms at the ready— “WAIT VIN-!”

✧ He stops mid-swing… but only after he’s felt his skin contact with yours.

✧ The force sends you backwards into the wall. Nausea and dizziness begin bubbling in your body.

✧ You feel your knees buckle and your eyes crossing, and the pounding of your heart is auditable in your ears as you nurse your numb jaw.

✧ Meanwhile Vin just stands there in shock, calling you names while asking insincerely if you’re okay.

✧ “You can’t blame me cuz you were in the way you little sh*t! Ugh… f*ck…” he mutters.

✧ You’re calm while he rambled, but your patience begins to thin as he continues insisting the blame was all on you.

✧ “Vin…” you say calmly. “Would you shut the hell up. If it weren’t for your stupid glasses…”

✧ -He gawks in surprise

✧ “Then I wouldn’t have a concussion. Or a nose bleed,” you snap.

✧ There’s silence. Your face is illuminated by the blue light of your phone as you search for the Urgent Care nearby.

✧ “…That does look pretty bad.” Finally. He has the decency to be a little sincere.

✧ Vin leans in closely, trying to catch your eye. While you avoid eye contact, you are perfectly in tune with his movements.

✧ “I’m taking you to my place,” Vin huffs with a smirk, seemingly trying to redeem himself as he shoves his hands into his pants.

✧ “I thought you didn’t care earlier,” you answer, still scrolling on your phone. Only half-listening.

✧ Then his bulky arm wraps around your torso, and he scoops you over his shoulder.

✧ ‼️

✧ Not good for the nausea or dizziness.

✧ But anyway…he did carry you to the Urgent Care…

✧ Where he blatantly denies bruising you up, and even laughs a little. (Okay- he does feel a little guilty…)

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧

✧ “(Y/N)-” “I’m not closing my eyes.”

✧ There’s no way you’re letting Warren take them all by himself.

✧ It’s just not happening.

✧ He seems to know. He’s fine with you fighting, as long as he isn’t there to worry over you. He can’t get over the urge to intervene and protect you until the fight is over. That’s always been the case.

✧ “You let Eli fight,” you remind him, turning to face away from him and towards the crowd of delinquents. “You’re not (Eli. That’s) different.”

✧ You’re not different than Eli? Well then, you’ll take that as a yes… even if you do inwardly know what he was trying to say.

✧ Your shoes slap against the floor as you walk through puddles of water. The day is overcast, just like Warren’s mood.

✧ Soon enough the blood mixes with the water.

✧ The man spits out a tooth as you throw an elbow into his jaw. Your clenched fists shake like leaves as you deliver a kick into his back.

✧ It’s loud- but you can’t even hear the shouts of grunts of the fight…

✧ Just the ringing in your ears. The adrenaline pump doesn’t help… it just gives you endurance and an animalistic will to withstand the blows. It doesn’t help you make decisions, or strike properly.

✧ “Warren-!” You feel your heart beating in your ears.

✧ Warren is smart in his own way. But once his mind is shrouded with concern, he’ll do anything to plow a path straight to you.

✧ Oh? You were just trying to draw his attention to the guy making a lame attempt at a “sneak attack?”

✧ Nevermind then…

✧ But as it starts winding down and all that’s left are the decently-difficult fighters… Warren feels his heart lurching out of his chest.

✧ “Gotta help (Y/N)…” he thinks to himself. And the thought replays. Over and over. “The mighty Warren Chae won’t let him get hurt...”

✧ (Y/N)…. (Y/N)….

✧ You….

✧ “You-!?” Slam

✧ Warren didn’t mean to loose focus and body slam you into the wall— but he did—

✧ “You’re…(good?I didn’t see you) in the way! (Sorry!)” His words slur thickly and he skips a few while he’s at it.

✧ Your vision feels fuzzy. Your body feels hot as he presses his rough hands against your neck. But as your heartbeat slows back to normal, and the adrenaline boost wears off, you come to face reality.

✧ The fight isn’t over.

✧ “I’m fine Warren,” you assure him calmly. “But don’t get distracted-”

✧ “Then listen to me,” he says firmly. Ignoring the oncoming kick directed at him, he leans (down/up) towards you. “Close your eyes.”

✧ He forces your body into a sitting position on the ground. Your hands shake slightly as you hold your sore shoulder. Your eyes are squeezed shut.

✧ You keep quiet and try to block out the disturbing noises. Shouts of agony, the snapping of bones. It doesn’t bother you as much when you’re fighting together… but knowing Warren is going rampant makes you uneasy.

✧ “Okay… open your (eyes).”

✧ Warren is already kneeling beside you, brushing his calloused hands around your torso to (take off your jacket and) lift off your shirt.

✧ You feel the cold slap of breeze against your skin 💨 👋

✧ Warren’s droopy eyes look a mixture of sad-dog and irritated-cat. How could he mistake you for the enemy?

✧ Guilty… frustrated… concerned.

✧ He rubs his rough palm against your shoulder. His thumb pad traces circles around the large bruise that’s forming.

✧ The longer you sit there, the darker the bruise seems. And it’s making Warren a little paranoid.

✧ “It’s getting worse-” he mumbles.

✧ “I’ll be fine.”

✧ “I’ll treat it back home.”

✧ “Alright… take me to bed I guess.”

✧ “…”

✧ A pause.

✧ “Bed rest. I meant. Not really like that.”

✧ “…I was gonna say. I’m not sure if you’re up for that.”

✧ Yeah. It’s time to shut up.

✧ Is Warren sad? Yes. Guilty? Yup. Frustrated? Very. It’s never happening again. You’ll probably never be allowed throw a punch in his presence ever again.

𝐌𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐢

✧ Magami curls his toes into the sticky martial arts mats that line the floor. Even though it’s night outside, the training room is still illuminated by tube lights overhead.

✧ Practicing his karate, even when the room is empty and less stuffy, still feels constructing in the mask. It’s still not as bad as it is in the arena.

✧ He practices the fluid motion of his kick again.

✧ Then the movement of his strike.

✧ He hears the door creak open. Kenta swears that if Nomen tries to interrupt him with some annoying sh-

✧ A best of silence passes as he distances himself from the sandbag. Maybe it wasn’t Nomen after all.

✧ But then there’s a voice that sounds out-

✧ Magami feels the blood rushing to his face- and without thinking he swings his leg for an ushiro geri-

✧ Slam.

✧ He feels his foot connect with wood, snapping through the barriers and splitting the cypress in half. His pulse remains sickeningly fast as he straightens and turns to face the back.

✧ He was right. It wasn’t Nomen…

✧ Instead, Tanuki - you - stands rigidly behind him, cupping your face and the shattered splinters of wood.

✧ He broke your mask.

✧ “It’s just me, Daruma…” you say quietly, still standing stiff and in shock. You stare at him with half of your face naked and exposed while dragging your finger across your damp cheek. Blood. You’re bleeding…

✧ “Don’t get in my way again.” That’s his reply.

✧ His voice is deep and muffled. A better mask for his emotions that’s the actual mask that he wears. You can tell, out of perceptiveness, that he’s a bit flustered.

✧ His brows are drawn together tightly and his lips purse from behind his disguise. He feels his heart hammering in his chest. Why Tanuki…? Of all people.

✧ You tuck your free hand into your pocket, removing the remains of your mask with the other with calm precision, nodding understandingly.

✧ “I was coming to tell you how late it was,” you drawl.

✧ This is why Kenta thinks you can be an annoying prick. You stand there in such a relaxed pose, voice drawing reactions out of Kenta he has no control over.

✧ His eyes are wandering. Tanuki (you) was always more appealing to Kenta than the others, to an extent.

✧ “How late is it?” He asks.

✧Tanuki wasn’t as annoying as Nomen, and he carried a conversation better than Hyottoko. Hanyya was always accompanied by Nomen, so that was a no-go. And Tanuki was much less obnoxious than Shiba Inu.

✧ “The circus is starting in an hour. It’s that late.”

✧ His eyes wandered up from your dress shoes, your suit pants… and flickered over that iconic, unmistakable bulge that earned you the Tanuki alias; across his chest and up to your cheek.

✧ Kenta’s attention was fixated on your cheek. With the mask no longer covering your face, he could see your features for the - third time?

✧ And your cheek, he notices, is bleeding.

✧ “You’re gonna form a bad bruise if you don’t ice that,” he remarks all of a sudden.

✧ He moves to unbutton his suit and change into the convict clothes. Keeping his focus away from you.

✧ “Oh…” you murmur from behind him. Even without looking, Kenta knows you’ve begun touching your cheek gingerly again. “Well it doesn’t matter. It’s always covered up anyway.”

✧ Kenta doesn’t feel as guilty about it as he does embarrassed. And it’s not really- embarrassment… just- he just feels flustered. Actually, at this point he isn’t sure how he feels.

✧ “Ice it.” This time it’s not a warning, but a command.

✧ “I will… I will. Afterwards. You need help-?”

✧ At this point, Magami is convinced Tanuki could pull off any pose and turn him on. He feels riled up and agitated as you lean to help unfasten a particularly stubborn button.

✧ “…Don’t be a d*ck, Tanuki.”

✧ “‘No thanks’ would’ve sufficed.”

✧ You proceed to unfasten his shirt anyway. Kenta’s face remains impassive, but he won’t deny his gratitude for the mask policy right now 🫣.

✧ He stares at the bloody, darkening splotch on your cheek. Unmistakably the result of his kick. He also notes that you look good without the mask.

✧ Once he slides out of his shirt and into the bright orange one, he brings up his finger to tap harshly against your face.

✧ “Well, ice it soon.”

✧ He starts unfastening his pants. As he bends down, he can’t help but sneak glances at your limp bulge tucked away in your own slacks. He really disgusts himself sometimes. But you’re so damnably attractive, it’s almost annoying.

✧ Rephrase: it is annoying.

✧ You adjust your stance, shifting your weight from leg to leg and crossing your arms. Damn you. Kenta almost chokes.

✧ “Will do,” you chuckle.

✧ “Don’t make me kick you again.”

✧ “Daruma…”

Cough- cough… ☞︎ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

𝐆𝐨𝐨

✧ “Don’t wander off too far boo~”

✧ “Goo…”

✧ You feel a little exasperated. As Goo Kim’s secret friend, you’d think he’d treat you more like an equal. Or at least have confidence in your capabilities.

✧ And how did you end up being singled out as his ‘dearly beloved’ anyway?

✧ As you land another hit on some poor punk’s ribs, you feel your promise ring scrape his skin and draw blood.

✧ So… seeing as you’re wearing that ridiculous price of jewelry… you sort of already know how that story ended.

✧ But it doesn’t matter. You’re tying to stay level-headed as you fight, and your ‘future spouse’ being obnoxious isn’t soothing your nerves.

✧ In fact, you can’t recall a single time fighting with Goo was therapeutic. So I guess this isn’t anything different from the norm.

✧ “What’s for dinner?” You ask boredly. You sink into your toes and dodge a wild swing, kicking the kid in the gut.

✧ “Whatever you feel like babe!” Goo replies energetically as he finishes bashing in some heads.

✧ “I could go for some bird meat,” you muse quietly as a new onrush of guys heads your way. It’s a wonder than Goo hears you.

✧ “Ooh- okay! How about chicken?”

✧ “Pass. Turkey?”

✧ Goo swings a crowbar around expertly, a more focused expression on his features. He takes a moment to reply. “Nah… I hate the flavor.”

✧ “Okay, how about-”

✧ “Duck!”

✧ Whack.

✧ “…Or just… embrace it I guess. You look hot either way, babe.”

✧ “Kim… remember our conversation about clear communication?”

✧ “Uh huh? But I did warn ya!” “We were literally talking about birds.”

✧ You snap a guys wrist without even looking, glaring (up/down) at Goo.

✧ The rest of the fight you ignore him. Your expression remains neutral afterwards as he takes you to the urgent care.

✧ “At least it hit you in the shoulder!”

✧ “Yeah- I wonder where it would’ve hit me if I had ducked.”

✧ “Stop being all calm and angry at me boo! It’s creepy!”

✧ “…Alright. Whatever Goo.”

[slamminslamminmcgill]

hi i’m back to laloposting and im being disgusting about it

perrito lore btw

warning: intox (weed and poppers for reader, coke for lalo), anal, oral, rimming, dubcon/noncon, ass to pussy (⚠️do not try this at home⚠️), gaslighting, petplay, the tiniest hint of transphobia for flavor

anatomical terms: pussy/cunt, t-dick

“So this is my family’s latest strain. Tell me what you think.”

Famous last words that Lalo uttered while packing a bowl for you, cradling an obscenely large bong in your lap with you seated in his. He knew damn well that a few rips of this would nuke the speech center of your brain. No way you’d be able to tell him what you think. The stickiest of the Salamanca icky was an indica hybrid that would shut you down. It’d have you under complete couch lock. You’d get so high that you wouldn’t be able to tell your leg from your arm.

And that’s exactly what he wanted.

For you, though. Not for himself.

No, he needed to stay fully cognizant for this to work.

And what better way to lock in than with some hard-hitting, sucker-punch type bumps of luxurious cartel-grade nose candy, brushed into a few delicate lines on a compact mirror.

About 3 bong rips, 2 lines, and maybe 15 minutes later, your pants were off, and two of Lalo’s fingers were lubed up and stretching your ass out.

“Good, right?”

“Guhhh-huh, ha—hahaha… yeeeahhh…” You gurgled, twitching and squirming in time with his fingers. But then they went still.

“I meant the pot, dummy. How’s it treating you?” He asked, tenderly ruffling your hair with his unlubed hand.

You giggled, let your eyes flutter shut, and nodded.

“You feeling like a good doggy?”

Another nod from you.

“Prove it. Get me hard.”

You tumbled off his lap and onto the floor between his legs, pawing at his jeans to get them off him. Once his soft cock was out, you immediately shlurped it into your mouth, nursing it to make it grow big and strong, and long enough to fuck your throat.

“Yeah, yeah, mmm, choke on it.” Lalo said, taking a fistful of your hair, a handle to hold your head like an unfastened briefcase. Your jaw hung open for him to thrust into your throat as easily as any other hole. “Choke on it. Choke on it, mijo, c’mon. You got it.”

When he got bored of that, he scooted to the edge of the couch and held his legs up.

“Lick,” was all he needed to say for you to stick your tongue inside his asshole. He loved watching you degrade yourself. He couldn’t help it. You’re just so cute when you do that for him! Especially when you bounce up and down to tonguefuck him, all with a huge smile on your face.

He returned the favor, of course. Not long after, he had you bent over, face pressed into the dark, plush corner of the couch cushion, his dexterous tongue teasing your rim. Tracing circles, up and down, but not in. Not at first. So that when his tongue did push in, you could feel it radiating up your spine.

“Fuck! Fuckfuckfuck, oh my god, ohmygodohmygodohmygod, Lalo! Fuck!”

Though the words left your lips in rapid succession, you weren’t processing their meanings. They were mere vocalizations, not conscious words that you decided to say. Your body said them for you. Or rather, his tongue made your body talk. And his fingers, pinching and rolling your t-dick between them, made your body shake with need.

All of this was to work you open for his thick cock. No matter how many times you’d taken it up your ass, it was always a test of your abilities.

Lalo handed you a small glass bottle that rattled when he shook it. Poppers.

“Take big hits, puppy. You’re gonna need ‘em.”

You uncapped the bottle and huffed the noxious fumes inside, a few second inhale for one nostril, then the other. You barely got the cap on the bottle before you started to feel the effects. Your whole body was warm, soft, pliable. Your head was spinning, asshole pulsating, inviting him inside. A swipe of cold lube was the only warning you got before his blunt head breached your ring.

“A-Ah~! Fuck! Fuck!!!”

“Shhh, sh, sh, you got it. You can take it. Good boy.” Lalo cooed as he pushed in, making room for himself inside you. He got in up to the hilt, and sighed contentedly. “Mmm, so tight, perrito (doggy). Told you, you can take it.” He praised you with two gentle pats on your ass cheek. “Ready?”

“Mhm…” you whimpered.

Lalo withdrew his hips, sliding almost all the way out, keeping only his tip inside, and snapped them forward, pulling a pitiful cry from you. He did it again, a gradual retreat, and a hard hit back in. The slow tempo and high impact served to relax your tight hole, loosening you up until he could thrust a steady tempo. You’d gape so beautifully for him later.

“Eso es, eso es, te putito. Me estás tomando tan bueno. Buen chico. (That’s it, that’s it, you little whore. Taking me so well. Good boy.)” Lalo said, mainly to himself. He didn’t really care if you understood him or not. You’d get the message, especially when it was punctuated by a sharp spank.

Whining into the cushions and gripping onto them for sanity, you bounced your ass backwards to meet his thrusts. The pain of the initial stretch had long since subsided, and you were able to enjoy the intense sensations of getting ass-fucked.

That is, until he pulled his cock out and stuck it in your pussy.

You gasped, head poking up and spinning back to look at him. “La—Lalo! That’s—mm!—That’s my pussy!”

“Hm?” Lalo hummed, quirking an eyebrow in response to your obvious proclamation. “No it’s not. I’m in your ass, baby.”

What? What the fuck is he on about? Did he not just pull out and switch holes on you? Was it an accident? Did he just not notice? No. Bullshit. It couldn’t have been. There’s no way he didn’t realize. The distinct squelching of your sopping wet cunt as he fucked it was proof enough to the contrary. Also, it’s your body. Your pussy he’s lucky enough to be inside of. Even if he couldn’t feel the difference, you did. How could he even try to argue that?

“I told you, we’re only doing anal tonight. Don’t you remember? Silly boy. Silly little puppy,” Lalo sneered as he continued to fuck your pussy.

You shook your head, and bravely tried to correct him, “N-No, Lalo, I’m—ah! I’m telling you, it’s in my—“

But he managed to correct himself, and stick it back in your ass. As if it never happened.

“Listen to me, mutt.” Lalo barked, grabbed you by the hair, and yanked you up until your back hit his chest. His hot breath ghosted over your ear as he growled, “Like I said,”

He continued to fuck your ass as he lectured you.

“I’m only…”

Then your pussy.

“fucking…”

Ass.

“your ass…”

Pussy.

“tonight.”

Ass.

“If I wanted your pussy,”

Pussy.

“I’d take it.”

Ass.

“But I don’t.”

Pussy.

“Because, tonight…”

Ass.

“You’re gonna get fucked…”

Pussy.

“Like a real man.”

Ass.

“Okay?”

“Okayyy…”

He pressed a tender kiss to your temple, and said, “Good boy.”

You lost track of the switching soon after that. Oh well. Whichever hole he fucked felt good regardless, and the sensation of switching between them was incredible. Lalo could take whatever he wanted from you, and you’d let him. He knew you so well.

Despite his insistent words to the contrary, you went to bed with his load leaking out of both holes. Someday you’ll learn not to think you have him all figured out.

[jj-maybanks-daughter]

shark

john bs little sister, y/n routledge got attacked by a shark while surfing with the pogues

warnings- blood, sharks, drowning 

a/n- please don’t read if your afraid of sharks. however, what you read  is not my responsibility  

y/n walked from her room to the living room where all the pogues are. “can someone go out to surf with me? i don’t like being alone and i really want to go out”

“sure.” john b said 

“i’ll go!” pope added, smiling

“im in” jj yelled 

kiara and sarah looked at eachother and shrugged.

they all got ready to surf. y/n had a pink bikini on and brought her white board

“ew look at the water it’s all grey” sarah said disgusted pointing to the water. 

“your fineeee” john b joked. “let’s go”

they swam out into the water. the waves were pretty calm. y/n had drifted off while she was laying on her board.

they layed there for a while, hopeful some nice waves will come in.

the salt air had y/ns y/h/c hair all wavy and perfect. everything was perfect. until something was under y/n. she didn’t notice, she was falling asleep laying on her stomach. both feet and right hand in the water.

out of nowhere, there was a splash. the shark had gotten y/ns left leg, tearing it to shreds as it had held her underwater. blood curdling screams were coming from her mouth underwater, begging that someone would hear her. 

“y/n?” sarah asked, noticing there was a splash and she wasn’t on her board.

the shark brought her above water and she screamed. he leg was being ripped off by a thousand stake knife’s, and she couldn’t get away. i was like she was in a car wash, but instead of soapy clean sponges, it was razor sharp knife’s. 

“oh shit” john b paddled over to her fast and got her in his arms. the water was red and thick. the pogues watched with shock in their eyes. “call 911!” john b screamed as he sucker punched the shark. it finally swam away, not after taking another bite.

kie and sarah rode a wave in to shore in a panic and grabbed their phones. 

“911, what’s your emergency” the operator  spoke through the phone

“hi um we have a 15 year old female that just got t attacked by a shark” sarah cried with a shaky voice into the phone

“is she conscious and where was the bite”

“i don’t know, she’s still out in the water but the shark is gone now. uh- i think it’s her leg”

“ok. i’m just going to send a medivac to your location. stay on the line.”

“ok” sarah was crying.

“y/n, talk to me, your ok” john b said as she layed on the board slipping in and out of consciousness. “come on, kid give me something here” he slapped her face gently a few times to keep her awake

jj and pope had rushed over to help, but there was nothing they could really do. once they had gotten to where they could stand jj tied the leash of his surfboard around her leg as tight as he could to stop the bleeding. it was gruesome and horrific but they were gonna do what they had to to save y/n

“jj?” she asked in a hushed, raspy voice as they swam her back to shore.

“i’m here, i’m here” jj said brushing her wet hair out of her face, trying to put on a brave face for her

“i can’t feel anything” she said closing her eyes slowly. he watched her eyelashes flutter in pain, shock and fear coating her glassy eye.

“i know, i know, keep your eyes open, your gonna be alright” 

the boys and y/n got to shore after fighting with the fast crashing waves and rip current 

“y/n, they have a medivac coming for you ok?” john b said as he tightened the makeshift tourniquet to where if it was her neck, she wouldn’t be able to breath

“that hurts, john b, stop your hurting me” she was crying and trying to catch her breath

“i know, i know, im sorry. we need to stop the bleeding and this is the only way i can do it. if i didn’t have to i wouldn’t”

her eyes were heavy and she was pale pink. her lips were chapped and had blood all over her. her pink bathing suit and white board were stained with a dark red

“jj?” she pleaded as she opened her eyes in pain

“yes?” he asked.

“i’m scared” 

“me too, we all are. your…” he paused, not knowing if the next statement was true “your gonna be ok” it was convincing him and the pogues as much as it was her.

“i’m cold” she said, lifting her head to see what john b was doing. she also was looking for a towel or be wrapped around in.

john b nudged her back down to the towel her head was resting on “don’t look, it’s ok” he didn’t want her to see her own leg that was bleeding profusely and had muscle and bone popping out at every spot.

“i’m cold…” she drifted off. she was trying to stay awake, but she was just too tired. 

“oh shit” pope tried to wake her up by squeezing her face, but it was no use. he checked to see if she was breathing. she wasn’t conscious a few times, but not like this. she was still. her eyes were shut. not shut in a fluttering way, but a frozen way. her flushed chapped lips parted and still. she didn’t flinch at any contact. she was out.

pope tapped her face a few times, looking for signs that she was just sleeping. she was frozen. she was still bleeding, which in this case, was a good sign. he put his ear to her chest to listen. she was breathing.

john b walked away, crying “come on y/n/n, your ok, they’re almost here” he said as he paced back and forth while pope was examining her conditions.

“she’s still breathing, just make sure it stays that way” pope directed jj to put his finger under her nose to monitor her breathing. he put his bloodied finger under her nose. and his ear on her chest.

sarah walked away to john b, holding him in a bear hug as they both cry, looking towards an almost lifeless y/n. their usual bubbly, energetic, and crazy y/n was just attacked by a shark which left her bleeding with a leg bearly on the bone.  they could everything that made up the leg. there was no way they could keep reattach it, even though the hoped.

“damn it! we should’ve just stayed at home” jj screamed, pulling at the roots of his hair. he walked away to wash his bestfriends sisters blood from his calloused hands 

kiara sat there in shock. mouth wide open, eyes in a bliss. she was somewhere else. trapped in the memory of what just happened to her friend. they knew they couldn’t do anything about it. they had give. every effort to stop the bleeding, that being all they could really do.

out of no where, a scream of pain came from y/n. “help me, somebody help me” she begged, looking into popes chocolate brown eyes with a plead. “i need help please” she sobbed. she caught a glimpse of her leg. the one she had used for surfing, running, swimming. everything she loved to do. it’s been with her forever. she was shocked and in an unbearable pain. 

“calm down, calm down, your ok, the medivac will be here any minute ok? you need to relax” he said, rubbing the top of her wet with seawater head in an effort to calm her down. 

“where’s john b? i need john b. i- i need him” she stuttered, looking around for him as she grabbed the top of her thigh, whining in pain. 

john b came running back, leaving sarah. “your ok, hunny im right here i walked away cause you were unconscious, ok, im right here” john b caressed her cheek with his thumb, wiping away her tears and blood

“i don’t think im gonna be ok…” she reached up to grab john bs face and smiled “can you make sure jj knows i love him… please” she sighed and looked back down. she loved jj. she had since forever. she didn’t want herself to die, and what she really thought about for the past seven years of her life to be unknown.

“you can tell him once your ok. your gonna be ok” john b said crying “your gonna be ok”

sarah and kiara were sobbing at the deck of the chateau, sitting in the chairs on the deck. sarah’s head was in her hands that were being held up by her elbows. kiara’s head was against the wood boarding of the chaout looking up to the sky in a plead.

the medivac swooped in to get y/n. she was conscious but had lost a lot of blood and her leg was bearly hanging on. the loaded her up and she said goodbye to the pogues with tears in her eyes. “it was nice being with you guys. i love you” 

once she was being lifted away, they all sat there in silence, all of them covered in her blood and were shocked and crying.

“come on, we have to meet her at the hospital” jj said getting off the beach to get the twinkie. he was covered in sand and blood, but john b didn’t mind 

“let’s go” john b squeezed sarah in a hug as they walked to the car, knowing there was a good chance she was dead by now.

jjs bloody hands drove them to the hospital which was 45 minutes away. 45 minutes of silence. 45 minutes of fear. 45 minutes of grieving someone who they didn’t know was even gone

he pulled into a parking spot and they all hopped out. 

they got to the front office. none of them wanted to ask where she was, not wanting to know if she was gone. they didn’t want to have to hear it here. no where really. but in a waiting room of a hospital is not ideal.

pope finally walked up to the desk and leaned on it. “umm… im here to see y/n routlegde…” he asked numbly as the rest stood behind him

the receptionist typed up her name as they watched her as they bit their nails. “it looks like they took her to the hospital in kitty hawk. they have better care for her situation there.”

“can we get the adress” jj asked sternly from behind pope 

“yup.” she passed them a pamphlet and smiled warmly. “good luck”

they walked back outside. their hands were dry of blood and had tear streaks down their eyes. 

after an hour of silence, sarah spoke up. “if they gave an adress she’s probably ok now, right?” she sniffled after her sentence, bringing the back of her hand to her nose

“i hope” john b said as he hopped into the back seat, rubbing sarah shoulders.

jj started driving and took a wrong turn. “FUCK” he scream slamming his hands down on the wheel. he started crying even though he tried not to. 

“jj…” kiara started

“don’t. quit being emotional and shit, she’s fine” he took a breath and sniffed his nose.

he pulled back out to go the right way. he was anxious to get there and was traumatized on what happened.

“where are you going?” kiara asked softly.

“chateau. she needs her stuff and we’re here now anyway”

sarah and kiara washed up and grabbed stuff that she might need at the hospital as the boys sat in the car.

“dude… what the fuck just happened… this morning was normal and now we’re here.” pope said and he threw his head into his hands and shook his head back and forth.

jj clenched his jaw and swallowed the lump in his throat. he honked on the horn for the girls to hurry. 

the trotted back to the twinkie with suitcases and pillows. they hopped in and put her stuff in the trunk. they didn’t even get the chance to buckle in before jj stepped on the gas.

the arrived at the hospital and walked in to the check in desk.

“we’re here to to see y/n routledge” kiara said as she leaned on the counter. 

the lady frowned at the screen.

“is she ok!?!” john b yelled as he cried.

“she’s in surgery. it’s gonna be a while before she’s out. you can get an account and we will send you a notification when you can see her.” the lady informed 

john b scanned the code and filled out the paper. “we can’t see her till tomorrow. this is bullshit” he said as he stormed out of the hospital.

“it’s ok, at least we know she’s alright” sarah drew circles on john bs back as they hugged.

“i just can’t believe it…” he said 

“i know, none of us can” she cried 

“well what do we do now” pope asked 

“my moms probably freaking out” kiara said while she leaned against the door of the twinkie. arms folded 

“same” pope said

“let’s just go back to the chateau and we’ll figure it out from there, yeah?” sarah said hopefully.

“i’m not driving” jj huffed as he plopped down in the back of the car

“i got it” john b said finally letting go of sarah 

they got back to see news people out on the beach in front of the chateau 

“no, they can’t be here” jj yelled. he walked outside with kiara and grabbed their boards and towels they had left on the beach earlier.

“do you know what happened?” the news lady asked. jj and kid ignored her and packed up to go inside.

“you know, this is really shitty of you guys. a 15 year old girl probably  died and your doing a news report for money. that’s embarrassing” he said sternly, not bothered enough to look up from what he was doing.

“it’s our job, kid” one of the camera men said, pointing the camera to him

“profiting off of death? that’s gross.” kiara said as jj grabbed y/n favorite board that was bitten and looked at the marks on it.

“you have quite the nerve to come on our property for this. get out” jj spoke, pointing away from the scene.

“this isn’t your property, it’s the beach.” the same guy spoke.

“your disgusting. all of you. disgusting. i hope your family’s happy with all the money your just brought in from a tragedy. i’m appalled. don’t think my lawyer won’t be hearing about this.”  kiara said as they walked away, flipping the people off.

“i hate people. she’s probably dead and they don’t even care. all they care about is themselves” jj cried to kiara as she hugged him

“she’s gonna be ok” kiara said as she cried also.

they got back inside and the pogues started clapping from the living room.

“what?” kiara asked 

“dude that’s all over the news what you just did. thanks for sticking up for my sister” john b hugged jj and kiara 

“the last thing she wants is for everyone to know. they didn’t even ask” jj cried again.

“it’s alright, buddy. they didn’t say her name or anything” john b patted jjs back.

“oh shit. my moms freaking out. i gotta go, see you guys tomorrow” kiara grabbed her stuff and left

“i gotta go call rose. she’s probably freaking out too” sarah said 

“can you stay tho?” john b pleaded

“yes i will. she’s going to be ok” sarah warmly smiled at him

“i should probably go, my moms scared im sure.” pope said sitting up from the couch. 

“pope?” john b asked

“yeah?” 

john b hugged him and cried “thank you… you saved her thank you” 

“hey,  what’s a pogue gotta do? we stick out for each other. you don’t need to thank me” he smiled

the boys were in a group hug

“see ya” jj waved to pope

sarah came back with her phone and flopped on the couch. 

they sat in silence until john b spoke up

“that was the worst day of my life. worse than when my dad went missing.” john bs head was full of flash backs, him fighting the shark, jj tying the leash, her saying she was gonna die, it was all flooding back to him in waves. he knew it was going t be engraved in his mind d for ever.

“you can say that again. i hope she’s ok” jj looked down at his still bloodied hands. “i’m gonna go shower. get this shitty day over with” 

john b was still in his trance. “tell jj i love him. tell jj i love him.” he got up and stormed to the kitchen, cracking open a beer. he chugged it down and caught his breath.

sarah sat and watched. she didn’t want to say anything. her boyfriend just had to watch his sister die on the beach and he couldn’t do anything.

she got up and sat with him. 

after jj got out of the shower, john b hopped in. he was silently crying, realizing there was no way in letting her know he loved her. he didn’t even say it when she saw him last.

he cleaned up and relaxed a little. they went to bed

meanwhile at the hospital 

“i don’t think we can save the leg. all the tissue and muscle is ripped to shreds. even if we could, all the nerve are destroyed.” one of the doctors spoke as he examined the leg.

“alright” they removed the destroyed leg up to her thigh. it was super risky, considering she had already lost a ton of blood and taking off the leg wouldn’t help. being under anesthesia that long isn’t good for her, and she would be droopy and drowsy for a while, just from the anesthesia. the blood loss is going to be a whole other challenge.

“poor girl” one of the female doctors sighed as they stitched up her thigh. “that’s crazy”

“yup. she’s going to need a lot of recovery time. i mean that’s nothing like we usually see. good work guys.” 

y/n was still on anesthesia. she kept having a dream of the shark getting john b and jj. she couldn’t not dream it. she had to wait until the surgery was over to not have to dream about it. it’s like she was drowning and as soon as she got close enough to the top of the water to breath, she was pulled down again. just like what happened earlier in the day.

they slowly let her off the meds to wake her up. she had no clue what was going on.

“who- who are you” she looked at the nurse with wide eyes and went to move to get up, realizing her leg wasn’t there. 

she screamed in terror, looking at her stitched up thigh that led to nothing. for some reason she could remember what happened. like some sort of sick dream.

“WHERES MY LEG” she yelled sitting up “WHERES JOHN B” she started crying and the nurse walked over to her

“your ok, hunny. you were attacked by a shark. do you remember any of it?” 

“oh…yea” she started sobbing again. “i- i need my brother please. i- i need to go home”

“im sorry, hunny, you can’t go home. not until we can get you blood and monitor you. i’m sorry. i’ll call your brother to come, ok?” 

y/n suddenly felt super tired. she layed her head back into the awful hospital pillows. how much she didn’t want to go to sleep was overweighed by how physically tired her body was. she crashed hard.

she felt people hooking her up to more machines and checking her heartbeat, but she didn’t care. she was too tired to care. everything was numb. she couldn’t feel the millions of shots being injected into her body to help with pain. 

when she woke up, there was john b, sitting in the hospital chair fiddling with his fingers, the pogues next to him. she fluttered her eyes back shut, not feeling enough energy to talk to them or talk about what happened. all she wanted was to sleep.

jj noticed her opening her eyes and rushed to her side, holding her hand. they hadn’t seen the nub that was left of her leg, and didn’t want to. it would just make the situation real.

“i’m here, y/n/n” jjs voice gave her the motivation to just open her eyes and smile at him. “you don’t have to say anything, just get some rest. we’re all here”

she smiled and shut her eyes again, feeling more at ease. they hoped she would be ready to talk in a few hours. 

she woke up a few hours later with excruciating pain shooting all the way down her left leg. even the part she didn’t have anymore.

she let out a yelp and squeezed her eyes shut in pain. “what’s wrong, y/n/n, talk to me” john b spoke 

(flashback in her head) “talk to me” 

“it hurts” she cried looking at him with glossed over eyes 

“i know, im sorry”

(flashback in her head) “i know, im sorry” 

“stop, stop get out” she cried to him, feeling sorry but she was traumatized. she didnt want to remember anything from the day before, and the only words john b had said to her were the ones when it happened.

“what?” he asked, looking at her with a raised eyebrow

“get out” she sobbed. she was in pain. something about the pogues, her older brothers friends, seeing you in the state she were in yesterday made her cringe and made her want to cry. all she could think was how embarrassing it must’ve been.

“are you sure?” john b asked

“no” she sniffled. she was undeceive. “just… just stop saying that shit, please” she begged

he didn’t know what she was talking about but he didn’t want to stress her out more.

“can you eat something, please?” pope asked, offering her a sandwich they got from the cafeteria.

she turned her head “i’m not hungry”

“you need to restore blood that you lost, you need to eat to have enough energy. please” pope begged, finding her eyes again. 

she held it up to her mouth to take a bite but couldn’t. she couldn’t eat. she didn’t know why, she just couldn’t.

“y/n, please eat. you need to” john b begged

“do you want something else?” sarah asked patting her right thigh.

y/n flinched at the touch. “n-no im not hungry” 

“we can do it the easy way or the hard way, y/n. you need to eat.” john b gets mad when he’s scared

“i- no” she started crying again. 

“it’s ok y/n” jj shot john b a glare as he hugged y/n. just by the hug in the hospital bed, he could tell that the leg was missing. it broke his heart, but he needed to stay strong”

“do you want to get better or not?” john b snapped at her 

she looked at him with wide eyes and her bottom lip quivered.

“john b!” sarah yelled at him, going to join the hug with y/n and jj”

“i- im sorry i- i don’t know what got into me but you need to eat. you can eat it yourself or get the tube. i don’t want to force you to do something but it’s the only way you’ll feel better. please y/n”

“fine… but i don’t want that” she pointed to the sand which in disgust.

“i’ll be back” john b grabbed the keys to the twinkie to go get her her favorite soup from panera. 

“how are you feeling, can i get you anything?” pope offered while he sat in the squishy blue chair in the hospital room.

“it hurts. my leg hurts even though it’s not there, it hurts” she explained looking down numbly

“i read about that once. it’s called phantom pain” pope informed

“shut up” jj said slowly as he turned his head to look over to pope. he still had his hand on hers, head still resting on her right thigh. 

“sorry” 

“it’s ok… where did john b go?” tears started to well in her eyes

“im not sure.” sarah said looking to the parking lot from the hospital window.

“where’s kie?” she sniffled 

“her mom went on a big rant, she wasn’t aloud to come” jj explained

“about what”

“n-nothing” he shook his head. he didn’t want to talk to you about how her mom was scared and didn’t want it to be kie.

around 15 minutes later, john b came back with a soup, just how she liked it. 

he face grew a smile and she sat up, letting go of jjs hand. “thank you john b!” she clapped her hands as her brother moved the bedside table to over her lap. 

she ate her soup in happiness until a doctor came in.

“hello, i’m doctor smith” the blonde lady explained. “i’m just here to check on your stitches and give you your pain meds, is that ok?” she asked y/n

for some reason, y/n had it all planned out in her head that the pogues would never see the stub that was left of her leg. she looked at the group in an indecisive way.

“uh- we can leave if you want?” pope said in a questioning voice

“it’s…it’s ok… you can stay” the doctor pulled down the rack abt the opposite side of the bed and gently pulled the sheets off her leg.

sarah gasped but quickly shoved her hand over her face. john b turned around to take a breath. pope watched with a puzzeled look on his face. jj looked numb and y/n was just sitting there, watching the reactions.

she looked to the side as tears welled back up in her eyes. her emotions were high. the moment was cut off by the doctor

“it looks like it’s healing well, it will take a few months for it to recover but it’s on the right track” she smiled to y/n and put the covers back over it.

the got the shot ready. she injected it into her arm without a warning, causing y/n to jump at the feeling.

“i’m sorry… it looks like it didn’t go in all the way, i have to redo it, im so sorry, i should’ve given a warning” 

y/n was just hit by a bunch of shark teeth, she wasn’t expecting herself to flinch over a measly shot. 

“its ok” the doctor counted off and put a new one in her arm. even though everyone was in the room, she felt like she was by herself. 

they stayed in the hospital for 3 more weeks, y/n was sick of it. the constant check ups, the shots, the not being able to turn on the tv without jj and kiara outbreak, the smell of cleaning supplies, the not being able to really do what she wanted, all of it. all she wanted was to go home.

“we can order you a prosthetic leg. your insurance will cover it, and it will help you get around” the doctor told her 

she shrugged her shoulders and said ok. they fitted her for it.

“it won’t be here for around another month” 

they got home, y/n waddling in on her one leg. she looked around before flopping on the couch. she looked out to the scene of the accident and her face frowned. she wasn’t expecting to feel this emotional about just the spot.

jj noticed and went to hold her. they snuggled up together on the couch, him giving her a kiss on the top of her head.

“what was that for” she smiled, looking up to him.

“i love you, y/n, i love you. i heard you that day, i know what you said to john b and i love you too” 

her smile grew and she layed her head back into his chest, trying to hide the pink flush in her cheeks. he lifted her head back up and kissed her. 

“what do you guys want for di-“ john b stopped himself when he saw you two kissing. he turned around slowly and walked back outside.

they smiled as their foreheads touched, giving them both butterflies.

“i’m sorry you had to see all of that on the beach i-“ 

“you don’t have to be sorry… it’s not your fault that damn fish with teeth got you.”

she smiled at his antics, placing her forehead on his chest.

“it was scary. i was scared. probably more than you” he admitted 

“i doubt it” she booped his nose and fell asleep on his chest.

the next few months consisted of pt and lots of encouragement. as soon as she could go back out into the waves, she was ready. all she needed to think when she was scared was the wise words of her boyfriend, jj maybank  “the chances of getting bit once is 1 in a million. twice is just impossible” 

she slowly climbed her way back to being herself. the relief of taking off your shoes after a long day was replaced by taking off her leg. they all still loved her, even if she was a peg leg.

jj started calling her a peg leg once she was ready for jokes. she thought it was hilarious and laughed everytime. 

she was going to be ok 😊