#let him be the good brother he always wanted to be

[f1goat]

roommates ; lando norris + part seven

In which you have to live with your brothers best friend who you really don't like, Lando Norris, and his many 'girlfriends' for a while, but there's always a thin line between love and hate.

masterlist - playlist

lando norris x fem!verstappen reader tw: smut & not proofread

You let out an annoyed grunt when you wake up for the second time that night. Lando is still pressed up against your body. It’s nice, you’re more then comfortable with him cuddling you like this, but still you can’t seem to fall asleep. Every time you think you’ve finally fallen asleep, you wake up only a bit of time later. Maybe it’s your thoughts who keep you awake. There did happen a lot tonight after all. You relive the earlier happenings. Every time you think about what happened between Lando and you, you feel yourself getting heated. 

Before you can relive every moment for the tenth time this night, Lando wakes up as well. You feel him move against your body. It’s hard to miss how his cock grinds over your ass. Fuck, you feel yourself getting even more bothered right now. Are you really getting aroused again just because of this? Then a thought pops up in your head, could it be that you’re still too horny to sleep? It happened to you before, so it wouldn’t surprise you now that you think about it. 

“Can’t sleep babygirl?” Lando asks you with a raspy voice. That’s not making things better. Since when can he sound this hot? 

“No,” you softly confirm. 

“Something that’s keeping you awake?” Lando continues to ask. 

You don’t reply verbally. It’s not like you can tell Lando that you’re still horny, right? And you’re not even sure about that being the problem, it can also be because of everything that happened. Your mind is a mess right now trying to progress everything from tonight. 

“Or do you want to sleep in your own bed?” Lando asks you a bit nervous. Maybe he shouldn’t have pushed you to sleep here. 

This time you’re fast to respond. “No,” you reassure him quickly, “I uh, I don’t know what’s keeping me awake.”

“Regret?” Lando continues to ask you. He feels nervous while waiting for your answer. What if you tell him that you regret what happened? 

In the mean time you’re thinking about what to say. Words are getting mixed up in your head. You don’t regret what happened and you need Lando to know that as well, but you do however wonder what will be the result of that. And then you’re still feeling horny, which isn’t helping as well. You want to tell Lando all of that, but when you open your mouth it’s just one word that leaves your tongue. 

“Horny.”

“Horny?” Lando asks you confused, “You can’t sleep because you’re horny?” 

After saying it already, you can’t do anything else then confirm it. Slowly you nod your head to show Lando that being horny is in fact your problem right now. You see a small grin forming on Lando his face. He seems to like this answer. 

“Oh babygirl,” Lando softly says, “Let me help you.”

“Please,” you beg. 

You add more power to your words, by throwing the blankets of and moving yourself closer to Lando. Unsure you take place on his lap. You feel his hardened boner pressing against your thighs. Lando lets out a low grunt. “The things you’re doing to me princess,” he groans. You grind yourself on Lando his lap. 

Lando tries to take you off his lap, but you deny him. “Let me make you feel good,” he mutters frustrated, but you just shake your head. “Babygirl,” he says with a stern voice. It almost works, but you hold your position in his lap. “I can’t do anything like this,” Lando adds.

“That’s the point,” you softly tell Lando, “This time I’m going make sure you feel good.” 

Lando doesn’t know what overcomes him. Fuck, you’re incredibly hot already and when you’re saying things like that it only makes you hotter. You hover above him, making sure his boner is lined up with your entrance, before coming down again. It’s way more intense then earlier, you feel his dick sliding inside of you. Not that it’s hard, you’re still wet from thinking about earlier tonight. 

“Fuck,” Lando whimpers, “You better wake me up for this a whole lot more.”

You don’t reply to his statement. For now you focus on riding Lando his cock and making it one of the best times out of his life. Something you believe you’re accomplishing, at least with how many moans are coming out of Lando is seems so. 

While looking at Lando, you increase your pace a bit. You can’t seam to tear your eyes off from Lando. He looks amazing like this. There’s some sort of carefree look on his face, he seems to be focused on the pleasure and nothing else right now. Of course, you have always found him hot, but now he seems even more beautiful. 

“Babygirl,” Lando moans, “I’m getting close.”

He lets his finger find your clitoris. Teasingly he circles onto it. It causes you to let out a moan. That only seems to motivate Lando to continue his movements, only this time he increases his pace. His other hand finds it’s way to your ass, harshly he takes it into his hand. All of this make sure that you’re getting closer to your orgasm as well. 

“Kiss me,” Lando grunts. You do what he says. Carefully you move your head down to make sure you can press your lips against Lando’s. He’s quick to react to your movements. Within seconds he is firmly kissing you back and sliding his tongue into your mouth. The two of you battle for dominance for a couple seconds, but Lando is quick to win again. He feels a moan from you vibrating against his lips. 

When you pull back from the kiss, it’s only to tell Lando how close you are. Instead of telling you to come, Lando does to opposite. 

“Ask me,” Lando instructs you, “Ask me if you can orgasm.”

You show Lando a surprised look. At first you want to tell him to fuck off, but when you start thinking about it a bit more, it starts to sound hot. Before you can react, Lando continues to talk to you. 

“Such a brat,” he whimpers while slowing down his movements on your clit, “Need you to be my brat.” 

You know that boys don’t mean things they say during sex, but you can’t help yourself and start to feel fluttered. You want nothing more then for Lando to mean everything he’s saying right now.

What you don’t know, is that Lando is one of the exceptions. He means every word of what he just told you. 

“Can I orgasm?” You shyly ask Lando. 

“No,” He answers, “Not like this, do your best.”

“Fuck,” you mutter, “Can I please orgasm Lan?”

“Better,” Lando praises you, “Come for me, my good girl.”

That’s all it takes for you to let go. Lando is quick to follow you. When you try to remove yourself from his body and also his dick, Lando pins you down against his chest. “No,” he softly mutters, “Just sleep like this.” It sounds insane, but within seconds you have fallen asleep on Lando his chest. 

The rest of the night you don’t wake up anymore. You’re sleeping rather peacefully.

The following morning, you have no idea how to start a conversation with Lando. Maybe because the both of you are still naked, maybe because his dick is hard again and makes your mouth water, or maybe because you have no idea how to confess your feelings to him. Not that you’re planning to confess, that would just be dumb. Lando is still a player.

When Lando wakes up, he barely feels different then you. The sight of your naked body on top of him, makes him aroused in no time. He knows that the two of you should talk, but for now he just wants to fuck you again. If you let him. 

“Good morning babygirl,” Lando softly murmurs to you. He toys a bit with your hair while waiting for you to respond. 

“Morning Lan,” you reply with a soft voice. You’re distracted already by Lando his raspy morning voice. That can’t be good. You know that you have to talk with Lando about what happened last night, because if you’re laying on him like this any longer you’d probably switch talking for sex. “I guess we have to talk?” You question him a bit nervous. 

“Depends,” Lando replies, “Do you want to talk?”

You don’t know what to answer. No you don’t want to talk, you want Lando to rail you until you can’t walk anymore. Although you guess that you’re already pretty close to that after last night. But you know that the two of you have to talk, otherwise this will turn into an even bigger mess.

“I guess we have to,” you tell him, “because I don’t know what will happen otherwise.”

Lando sighs softly. “How do you think about all of this?” He asks you curious. 

His question silences you again. Why is he only asking hard questions this morning? You haven’t even had the time to think about all of this. Maybe it would be smarter to take a moment for yourself and think everything over instead of already discussing everything. 

“I don’t know,” you confess. 

“Then let’s talk later,” Lando suggests. It humors you how he has the exact same idea as you. You show Lando a small smile and tell him that you agree with his idea. Lando presses a soft kiss against your cheek as answer. 

Would it be bad to have sex with him another time? Like, now.

Lando is doing everything in his power to stop himself from trying to have sex with you again. But when he notices the glance in your eyes and the way you bite your own lip, he almost loses it. He tries to calm himself down again, but when he feels your hands on his chest he knows that it has no use. 

“Babygirl,” he grunts, “If I were you I’d stop doing those things, because otherwise I’m going to fuck you so hard that you can’t walk for the rest of the day.”

You press a small kiss against the corner of his mouth before grinning. “What’s stopping you?” You ask Lando.

In no time you’re laying underneath him again. It’s not like this is helping your situation at all, but it feels a lot better then thinking about what’s happening between Lando and you.

+++

“Sooo,” you drag the word for as long as you can manage, to afraid to continue your sentence and what will happen after. When Lando doesn’t reply, you do however finish your sentence. “Let’s talk,” you suggest nervously. 

You have just gotten out of the shower. Finally you had some time to think about everything that happened. Not that it helped. You still have no idea how to continue now. It’s still unclear to you what you want. It’s scaring you that you feel attracted to Lando, in more then a physical way. It’s not like Lando wants a relationship with you. He’s a player. But, you need to know what you want as well. You can’t act like nothing happened between the two of you. You can’t act like you don’t want this to happen again. It’s unclear when you started having feelings for Lando, but in some weird way it feels like those feelings have been there forever. 

“Let’s talk,” Lando confirms. 

By saying those exact words, he leads the conversation back to you. Meaning you have to continue, to start the conversation that you’ve been dreading to do since this morning. You have no idea what to say. You don’t even know what you want. Suddenly a stressed feelings creeps up in your chest. 

“Uhm,” you try to start, but you’re quick to stutter. There’s no full word coming out of your mouth right now. “I uh,” you continue, “I really don’t know how to go on from this.” 

Lando is surprised by your words. After you told him it was a mistake last night, he expected the worst. So, this almost seems good. If it’s up to Lando you’re dating from now one, but he doesn’t think you want that was well. 

“You can make me your boyfriend,” he eventually jokes. It does sound like a joke. His voice is lighthearted and his tone is jokingly. However, it’s not. It’s another form of self defense. He’s not ready to be rejected by you. You almost scoff because of his ‘joke’. An annoyed glance is send in his direction. 

“I don’t think that’s what you want,” you sigh a bit annoyed. Lando almost asks you if it’s what you want, but he doesn’t dare to do so. “Look,” you continue to speak, “I don’t know how to go further from this. It’s not like I want to act if nothing happened, because I can’t simply forget about it. However, I have no clue how to act around you now.”

“Act the same as before,” Lando quickly states. 

He surprises you. His words always seem to get you by surprise. 

“What’s the same?” You ask Lando confused, “It’s not like I can have sex with you like yesterday whenever I feel like it.”

“Why not?” Lando questions you back, “If it’s up to me, you can. Just act however you want. I  also don’t want to forget about last night and this morning.” 

“How do you imagine this?” 

Lando picks his next words carefully. He doesn’t want you to think it’s just sex, but he also doesn’t want to scare you off. “What if we just explore this a bit?” Lando asks you. It’s the only thing he dares to ask you, but it’s better then nothing. 

“Explore what?” You question Lando, “The sex?”

“Not just that,” Lando quickly says, “We can explore us.” 

“Sounds vague,” you joke, “but also good.”

Lando lets out a relieved sigh. He didn’t even know he was holding in this much breath. He can’t believe that you’re okay with this. In the meantime you show him a small smile. Lando can’t help himself and moves closer towards you. Softly he presses a kiss against the corner of your mouth. It makes your smile grow.

“You’re cute,” Lando mutters more to himself then towards you. 

“Cute?” You ask surprised. That’s not a word someone used to describe you before. 

“So fucking cute,” Lando states.

In some weird way you can’t stop smiling after Lando said that. The two of you enjoy the short moment of silence. It’s Lando his phone who interrupts it. A thread of messages pops up on his screen. Without really meaning to do it, you read along with Lando. You read the messages coming from an unknown number. It’s a picture first. Lando doesn’t open the notifications. He doesn’t need to however. It’s pretty clear that it’s a nude. The messages underneath it tell you enough. 

Lando doesn’t look at you while opening the notifications. When you see the picture, it is indeed a nude photograph from a girl. She seems beautiful. Fuck. You can’t even say that you’re surprised. Lando barely told you that he wanted to explore this with you and he already has a nude from someone. It’s almost funny how stupid you are. 

Then Lando does something else that surprises you. He swipes on his phone and blocks the number. He throws his phone away from himself and focusses his attention on you. 

“Lando?” You ask softly. He nods at you, waiting to hear your question. “What exactly are we doing?” You continue to ask. 

“Exploring us,” Lando answers.

“What is us?” You question, “Us the friends with benefits?” 

“Whatever you want it to be,” Lando replies. 

“I don’t know,” you confess. 

“Let me know when you do know princess,” Lando chuckles.

“What do you want?” You ask him back. 

“Whatever you want,” Lando smiles, “but whatever it is, it’s exclusive. It’s only us.”

You show Lando another smile. Before you can tell him that exclusive sounds great, Lando is already talking about something else again. “Do you already have McLaren clothes?” He asks you. 

“Sorry?” You ask confused.

“Or even better, clothing from my line?”

“For what?” You ask even more confused.

“The race,” Lando states as if it’s the most logical answer. “I told you right? You’re coming to the race with me, so we’re leaving tomorrow. And if you’re coming with me, I want you to wear my clothes.”

Why are those words making you feel all hot and bothered? You should stress right now about packing, but in some weird way you’re only focused on Lando. In no time your lips are on his while you position yourself on his lap. 

This will be a good weekend.

“And,” Lando softly says after you pull back, “maybe after this weekend, you can tell me what we’re exploring exactly.”

You don’t answer to that. It’s not like you already know an answer. You focus your attention on Lando and making sure that he’s undressed in the next couple minutes.

a/n; let me know what you think!! <3

taglist: @booksandflowrs @hiireadstuff @likedbygaslyy @dreamsarebig @f1fantasys

@samantha-chicago @sweatrevenge5436-blog @queenofmanydreams @fionamiller123

@chezmardybum @f-1-lover-16 @formulaal @shellybee456 @sltwins

@mouchii @emyladia @v3rnom @customsbyjcg-blog @cthgee @moonclaine

@scarletwidow3000 @bokutos-babyowl @loloekie @lyannesworld @silentreader128

@oreosareara @gabotomo @princesspristins @leclercsluv @lina505

@sideboobrry11 @zucchinimalfoy @danielshoe @alana4610 @viannasthings

@toriiez @randomnessis-mine-me @cmleitora

@kika-writes @fionamiller123 @noneofyourfbusinessworld @lqvesoph @lyannesworld

@sheeeesthings @ssararuffoni @f1fantasys @chrissiekitty19-blog @voidsfics

@curbthatmf @m41-k1tt3n @f1fantasys @m41-k1tt3n @allywthsr

@curbthatmf @sheeeesthings @m41-k1tt3n @blacksoul-27 @f1fantasys

@spideylovin @splzq @chcolateeyelver @bennywattsgf @mswwvaleska

@lifesass @drunkinthemiddleoftheday @insunia

@m41-k1tt3n @aerie717 @wtsc0ns @dripostsstuff

@saachiep81 @misspygmypie

[sukunas-wife]

I wonder how would Yuji react to the news that he is going to be an older brother. Also, I'm just picturing little Yuji being protective of momma the entire pregnancy. He wants to look after his mom like big daddy Sukuna.

It took a while- and I mean this as in this ask was from January 😭 and I hate when I actually become active, my life decides it wants to pick up also

But 🤍🤍🤍

Yuji is confused but excited when you sit him in your lap and tell him, “Yuji, I have good news.” He just smiled up at you with starry eyes hoping you’ve gotten him another pet. “Yes?” “You’re going to be an older brother.”

His smile drops and he pouts for a second, “No pet?” You have to tell him no and explain what you mean by he’s going to be an older brother. The moment he learns his brother or sister is in your stomach he’s quick to stand between your legs pressing his ear to your stomach trying to listen and see if he can hear them.

“I don’t hear anything… it’s empty.” He pats your belly lightly with hand before saying “hellooo.” You have to hold back your laugh as you run a hand over his head brushing back his hair. “You won’t hear anything for a while. Maybe when they get bigger you’ll get to feel them kick and you’ll know they’re there.”

He nodded his face with a serious look holding his little fists, “They gotta get bigger.” You couldn’t fight back squeezing him in a hug and he laughed hugging you back just a tight.

Of course he forgets your holding his sibling captive in your stomach. Until, you’re out on a walk to the village and a man runs right into you and your swollen stomach while holding a heavy crate of fruit.

All he remembers was his dad holding the man by his neck with one hand, threatening to cut the man alive with the nails on his other hand and telling him since he felt generous he’d let him live for now.

After taking the man’s crate of fruit that he abandoned, you were already scavenging through it for something. Stopping only when you felt your husband stare and you smiled sheepishly at him. “What? The baby’s hungry.” Sukuna sighed, “But is it well?”

Of Course when you stood up holding a mango and patting your stomach, “Just excited, it started kicking the moment you yelled at that man. I get the feeling it’ll come to be another replica.” You scoffed with a smile before holding the mango to him, “Will you please?”

That’s when it kicks into Yuji, “I GOTTA MAKE SURE NO ONE HURTS MOMMY!”

He’s the incarnation of this c:<

Now that he’s seen his dad do it, in the palace the servants beware of Young Yuji. He once saw a male servant walking towards you with a knife, and with all his might ran at the man and tackled him screaming.

The servant man cut his own hand while falling, profusely apologising to Yuji for getting blood on his suit and for dirtying your fruit knife. You were shocked, staring at the scene before you dismissed the servant telling him not to worry about it and to tend to his wound while you sat Yuji on your lap. You couldn’t help but smile and hug your boy while he rambled on about how he showed that man not to mess with his mom.

After a stern talking too and explaining he needed to watch people before just running at them full force he understood his assignment. Even more when his dad called on him to “speak” with him alone.

In all honesty your beloved husband dropped a heavy hand on his head in a prideful way, his massive hand shaking Yuji’s head around while showing his affection. Yuji, who was used to it, was happy and smiling big. Then came his dad’s serious face. He sat Yuji infront of him on the floor. It was his father but he was still an intimidating man when he became serious.

“Yuji, I need you to understand that I may not always be around. As my son, my only son, my first born child, I’m going to trust you to take care of your mother and your sibling. You’re young, but I know you are more than capable of putting a few petty fools in their place. I need you to understand that I’m trusting you, not only with your mother, but my wife. One of the few things I would risk everything to protect, even more when your sibling is in its way. I don’t want you to think that I’m putting all of this weight on you, but there are very few in this world I trust, and I’m trusting you. Please understand how important this is to me, and how important it should be to you. Your burdens are mine to carry, your mothers are mine to carry, I won’t push my own onto either of you, but now I wouldn’t ask you to do this if I knew you weren’t capable or trustworthy.” Yuji sat there staring up at his dad, who was staring down at him. Yuji smiled brightly out of nowhere before tilting his head to the side. “Taking care of our family isn’t a burden.”

It was interesting for Yuji the more your stomach swole. He watched his dad kneel in front of you pressing his ear to your stomach tapping on it like it were a melon listening to see if it were good. Yuji became curious and wanted to listen also. It led you to laugh when he felt it moving.

He was scared, saying it felt like a snake moving around. And just like his dad he was smiling like a fool when your child would give a strong kick to their hands for tapping and bothering them so frequently.

Yuji thought it was funny how sometimes his dad would stand behind you and lift your stomach with his lower set of arms. And you’d always perk up and be happier. So, one day when he noticed you complaining and whining while rubbing your stomach and back he did his best to stand in front of you and push your stomach up so he could lift up some of the weight.

Of course you cried and let him panic, almost dropping the entire weight of your stomach, until you placed a hand on his head smiling at him with teary eyes. His scared face fell into a soft smile, you couldn’t fight back squishing his cheeks. “My sweet boy, you’ve been helping me so much.” Caressing his face with a soft hand he can’t help but smile wider, shrugging his shoulders up as he let out a giggle. Of course not being as well built as his father he was caving in the first five minutes which made you laugh as you sat down only to have him tuck a pillow under your stomach to try and help you. He stood there looking at you hopefully.

He was smiling big when you smiled down at him, placing a hand on his head, ruffling hair in a far more gentle manner. He loved your little head pats and head rubs, they always made him feel loved when neither of you could find the words.

It was a humid spring day, and you were currently curing your husband for not getting you pregnant in the spring so you could at least have the comfort of the cool winter on your skin when you were laying on your bed more than anything else in your final days.

Laid out on your back you had felt your child shift a while ago. The movement had disappeared not long after that, but you were certain you were going to be prone to peeing yourself if it didn’t stop pressing against your bladder soon. Still, here you were, hands in your stomach feeling your intestines grumble as the little bit of fruit you ate started to move and settle.

Yawning and stretching while arching your back relieved you a bit before you slid down into your bed further. The blankets and sheets had been thrown over to the side where your husband was just laying before he got up to bring you cool water. The sun was setting but the rainstorms had left the day and night humid in an incredulous manner. You cursed your husband for being a man who could walk around without a shirt in this heat.

To think all those months ago at the summers peak when you complained that you couldn’t and he stripped you saying of course you could, was the same day he had actually gotten you pregnant upset you more. You refused to listen to his reasoning as you laid there in your thin white under robes.

You remember Yuji’s birthday, a woman was killed that day because she was too eager to see your husband and you were walking around like a badass with contractions for 8 hours. Now look at yourself, whining at the heat as you struggled to sit up, Yuji not only had softened you but also his father who was currently walking in yawning while holding a clay pitcher topped with a cup. “I brought it.”

He sat beside you placing the pitcher on your night stand as he helped lift you up to sit. You both sat in silence as he watched you drink your water and whine about wanting to stand and get out of that hot room.

He helped you up supporting your weight on his side as you waddled the cold floors of your shinden zukuri. You both came across Yuji’s room, you laughed quietly as you heard him snoring through the door. “He’s tired, he’s been with me everyday for the last month doing everything now.” Sukuna hummed, taking your hand and squeezing it, “That’s our son.”

You smiled up at him, you saw the shift in his face as he smiled at you which quickly changed when yours did. It felt like the wind was knocked out of you when you heard that heavy trickle of water. Both of you looking down, you knew well enough what was coming next.

—- —- —- —- —-

It didn’t take long for your daughter to come into the world.

It took longer for a frightened Yuji to walk in and see his sister. He slowly walked into your side as his dad nudged him forward.

You cooed at your boy squeezing him into your side and rubbing his shoulder and arm in a comforting way. He leaned against your shoulder and stared at the bundle in your arms, pink hair, pale skin, little angry fists and pout as she whined. “She looks just like dad….” You laughed, accidentally jostling the child in your arms. Yuji smiled at you before turning to smile at his dad who had the same angry pout only directed at his words, “I DON'T look like that.”

You smiled and kept rubbing Yuji’s arm, “Do you want to hold her while she’s sleeping?” You tried to shuffle your way up the bed to sit before Yuji held your arm down, “I’ll take care of her mom, so you can sleep.” His bright eyed smile warmed your heart, as you did your best to guide him on how to hold his sister.

Sukuna was right there with Yuji watching him as you leaned back into your bed feeling the exhaustion weigh over you. You wanted to rest a bit only to hear Yuji’s small voice, “‘m gonna take care of you, I’m your big brother, I'll always protect you.” Through squinted eyes you could see Sukuna place a heavy hand on Yuji’s shoulder smiling down at him, Yuji was cooing and smiling at his little sister Anya.

Tag list: @sad-darksoul @satorisgirl @bontensbabygirl @lupita97lm @queen-luna-007 @venus-seeks @bofadeezs @shytastemakerthing @sakuxxi @mercymccann @certainduckanchor @najiiix @bakugou-katsukis-wife @amitiel-truth @souyasplushie @mylovelessnightmare @ynjimenez @dolliira @princessluvz @furiousblacktiger @anyaswlrd @shytastemakerthing @alialucille

[wondersinwaynemanor]

what if the batkids decided at the same time to bring their partners to the Manor and they argue about it?

[i can't stop writing long scenes]

scenario 1:

Duke has his arm wrapped around Izzy's waist as they make their way to the movie room.

Duke: Have you decided which movie you want to watch tonight?

Izzy, grins: The Notebook?

Duke, opening the door of the room, chuckles: But we've just watched that two weeks ago. Besides, Dick and Jason love that film, I've watched it a lot of times by now.

Izzy, turns the switch on to illuminate the room: What's the harm in rewatching-

they stop in their tracks as Steph and Cass enter the room from the other entrance of the movie room.

Steph giggles and leans towards Cass' face to kiss her. they don't even notice that the room is now bright with the lights on.

Duke, clears his throat loudly: Uh. Just to let you know, there are other people in the room.

Izzy: Sorry! We didn't mean to interrupt.

Steph and Cass, still holding each other, look at Duke and Izzy at the other side of the room.

Cass waves to them.

Steph: What are you two doing in here?

Duke: To watch a movie? Clearly.

Steph: But we started an hour ago.

Duke: I don't see a sign in the door that says it's occupied though.

Duke has really been hanging too, too much with Damian and Jason.

Cass, covers Steph's mouth before she speaks more: Maybe we can watch together.

Izzy, smiles: What were you guys watching earlier?

Steph and Duke, say at the same time: But this was supposed to be a date!

then Steph and Duke glare at each other, suddenly arguing over random things.

Cass shakes her head and leads Izzy outside the room so they can get some food from the kitchen.

---

scenario 2:

Dick continues to lead Wally to the private pool that was just newly built.

they just came home from a mission and some dip in warm water under the bright stars sounds so good right now.

by the time they both strip down to their boxers, Dick is a giggling mess as Wally bridal carries him on the stairs down to the water.

Wally, still carrying Dick on his arms, backing both of them on the pool wall: Have I told you today how beautiful you are?

Dick, blushes, wrapping his arms on Wally's neck: You always remind me. But tell me again-

then out of nowhere, someone shouts, "KABOOOOOM!" and a large splash of water hit both of them.

Dick, rubs the water off his eyes: What the actual fu-

and it's Roy from across the side of the pool, leaning against the wall with a smug grin on his face. on his side is Jason with the same kind of smile.

Roy, brings Jason closer to him: Oh, isn't it my two best friends of all time?

Jason, laughs: Ocupado, Dickface. Sorry.

he wasn't sorry at all.

Dick, groans, coming down from Wally's arms: You lied, Jay! You said you were out of town.

Jason, shrugs: Plans change, Dick.

Wally, rubs Dick's arm soothingly: A little warning next time, guys?

Roy, grins: Not our forte.

Dick, grumbles: You guys are assholes. Go to another area or something, I don't care.

Jason: I'm sorry, what was that, Dick?

Dick: Asshole, I said go to another area. Period.

Jason: Why you-

then the two brothers are moving forward towards each other on the water, aiming for a fight of sorts. one minute, Jason has Dick under the water and the next, it's Dick chasing Jason in the water like ducklings. like birds.

Wally hides Dick's escrima sticks, while Roy hides Jason's guns. just in case the fight escalates.

---

scenario 3:

Roy, whines: Jaaaaaybird, can we sleep now?

Jason: I said give me a minute, Roy. I need to grab a book.

Roy leans his weight on Jason, closing his eyes.

Jason: And I'm not carrying you, idiot.

although, he wraps his arm on Roy's waist, supporting him as they walk to the Manor library.

Jason, opens the door: Give me a few, kay? Then we can- WHAT THE SHIT?

Roy feels more awake than awhile ago as they both stare at Kon, shirtless on the couch and his hair a mess.

Jason: Clone, what are you doing here????

Kon, flushes, embarrassed: I... I... Um.

then Tim appears from behind the couch too, his hair also a mess, but thankfully his clothes still on. or else Jason would have threw up on the floor.

Roy just has a grin on his face the entire time, amused.

Tim, grins: Hey, guys.

Jason, pinches the bridge of his nose: I swear, Timmy, I fucking swear, if you and clone boy don't fucking take your hormones upstairs to your own room, I will-

Tim: You will what, Jay? I mean... You don't own this place. Doesn't mean you spend most of your time here, it's yours.

Jason: I never said I owned this! I just fucking said, don't do funny business on the library couch.

Tim, scoffs: As if you don't do funny business here.

Roy, grins even widely: The boy's got a point, Jaybird.

Jason, now even more upset: Go, go upstairs!

Tim: But-

Jason: Now, Tim!

Tim: You're not my mom!

Jason: And you're not being responsible!

Tim: As if you're any better!

then the two boys continue to argue, leaving Roy and Kon to shrug and make their own conversation by the door.

Roy: Hey, kid. How's the Young Justice?

Kon, smiles: Pretty good. How's the Outlaws?

---

bonus:

Damian and Jon are in the game room, playing some Mario Kart when they hear voices outside the room.

Steph: We were here first!

Dick: I thought I told everyone in the groupchat that me and Wally will be having the Game Room.

Jason: I already called dibs in the room.

Duke: I arrived earlier than any of you, so technically, me and Izzy get to use it first.

Tim: Hey, I never had the Game Room this week!

Cass, suggests: Can we just all share it?

Damian, opens the door, annoyed: Will everyone just keep their mouths closed? I have settled in the room already.

as the batkids continue to make their points, Jon exits the room and flies to the main living room where the rest of the partners are talking.

Jon, settles beside Kon: I guess this is a regular occurance.

Roy, chuckles: You have no idea, kid.

Wally: As long as I can remember, yes.

Kon: You'll get used to it, little brother.

Izzy: With a house so big, they still argue on who gets a room first.

Izzy, sees the Monopoly game under the coffee table, smiling: Anyone up for Monopoly?

[ask-the-pioneer]

"I sure do! Watch this..."

"I can make explosive spears and throwables, just like my mom did. I can also propel myself in the air by whipping my tail very fast, which sets off the same flammable compound in my tail surface for an explosive boost. Very handy for movement, but also very loud… not great if you're trying to be stealthy. And yeah, my sibling could do that too, but he was always more interested in doing other things. An energetic but very scatterbrained kid that he was."

[She takes aim and throws the spear somewhere far away. It ignites and explodes with a loud dull bang that shakes the ground slightly]

"I can't do that too often, though. Maybe a handful of times in quick succession before my muscles tense up and burn as if scorched by flames. One time it got so bad that I lost consciousness and couldn't move for a couple of minutes after waking up. That was scary, and hurt like hell... since then I've been more careful. That said, I wonder if there are more slugcats with similar abilities to mine out there? I have not met that many scugs in my life to begin with, if I'm honest..."

"Of course I remember my family, how could I not! My sibling's name is… hmmm, right, let me explain this first. Slugcats have very good sense of smell. Usually, we know one another by our unique scents. They are incredibly complex, but can be written down as series of letters, if you map those symbols to the corresponding scent proteins and other chemical compounds. For example, my scent name would be:"

"Addmitely, this notation method is very over-engineered – a slugcat just knows you are you if they smell you. From what I learned, scugs don't really use a coherent writing system.. of any kind. I think the colonies may use pictograms? I uh, I've never been a part of a colony, so I'm missing a lot of info here. Still, what I wrote on the wall – I have used an Ancient script, which I roughly mapped to key compounds that make a scent. As you can see, it's incredibly long, it can also change over time, parts of it can be masked with non-organic aromas to hide your identity, so on and so forth. To simplify even further, these long strings of letters can be shortened to just the last three or two characters, and this is what scugs may choose to use to refer to one another. Here, my scent name is MGV."

"Then, there are names that resemble the form that the Ancients would use. It's considered more refined, and more common in big colonies where people adopt their preferable roles. Those names are viewed as a kind of «gift», because you receive it from your community. It's a symbol of how they see you, what you mean to them. Of course, my closest family was never a part of a colony… but my mom would still give me and my sibling those special names. I was named «Blue», which is the color of the sky above when it's not raining, and the color of clear water. My brother's name is «Bryn» after a very fragrant medicinal plant that relaxes your muscles when consumed. I always found it funny, as my brother was often the one getting in trouble and giving our mom heartaches."

[She pauses for a moment, thinking intensively]

"Hmm, I never thought of asking my mother about her name. I wonder if she had one? To me and it was always just «mom»…"

"My other parent? I never knew him. Must have left just before or right after my mom had me, because there is literally nothing I remember of him… or them… whoever they were."

[She takes some pearls out from her bag, and inspects them one by one just to keep her hands busy]

"Mom would never talk about him, as if he never existed. And I never questioned her, I was too young to understand and simply accepted everything at face value. It was just the way things were. Would I want to meet my other parent? Maybe, but I doubt it'd make a difference. What would I even say to them? «Thanks for abandoning mom and leaving her to fend for herself»? "

"I don't know. Maybe I'm too harsh. Maybe he was a hero who sacrificed themself to save my mother. That could explain why he was never seen or heard of again. But… I have no way of knowing for sure. It's the life I won't be getting back anyway."

// In the second drawing, I've used logographs from @ikayblythe's Standard Hegemonic Dialect

[dixons-sunshine]

Pull Through | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: While you were injured with no way of knowing if you'd make it or not, Daryl let the group in on his feelings. He shares some of his memories with you, as well as some of his worries.

Genre: Angst.

Era: Prison, post season three, pre season four.

Part of the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams AU, but can be read as a standalone. However, some call backs are made to previous parts in this.

Warnings: Mentions of injuries.

Word count: 1.2k.

A/n: I've had this idea in my mind for another part to the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams AU for a while now, but I just don't know how to put it into a proper fic. This is more of a filler than an actual fic, but anyways. Hope you like this!

“Ya know, Shane wasn't the first person to tell me tha' I dun' deserve her.”

Rick looked up from his daughter to look at the archer, Daryl holding his own five month old baby girl in his arms. Rick's heart broke at the sight of his found brother's clear distress evident on his face. He was staring off at nothing in particular, thankfully lucid enough to keep Hazel in place on his lap. It was clear that your recent injury had taken its toll on Daryl, and Rick knew that if you didn't wake up from your little coma, Daryl would be a mess; he would be a bigger mess than Rick was when he lost Lori.

“My whole life, even 'fore I grew the balls to confess to her, people were tellin' me tha' I dun' deserve her, tha' I ain't good 'nough fer her, tha' she'll see it herself and leave me.” Daryl stopped for a moment, his attention temporarily being diverted to his daughter who was starting to fuss a little. He whispered sweet nothings to her in the hopes of calming her down, slightly bouncing his leg and successfully coaxing a giggle from her. “But she never left. Even when things weren't all sunshines and rainbows, she stayed. She loved me regardless of all of my flaws, and god knows I have a shit ton of 'em. She ain't ever even thought 'bout walkin' outta the door, even when she could'a, and I wouldn't have blamed her.”

By now, a few people in the group has stopped to listen to the usually quiet archer. Beth, Maggie, Glenn, Sasha, Tyreese, Hershel, Michonne, Carl and Carol stopped to listen to him. It was extremely rare to hear Daryl talk about anything outside of the usual “formal” work talk—who would go on runs, who'd work on the fence, etc.—so everyone was intrigued to hear the brooding huntsman speak his mind.

“She deserved so much better than me, and I know tha', but she didn't think so. She stuck with me through everythin'. Through most'a my childhood, through highschool, through Merle and his bullshit, everythin'.” Daryl inhaled sharply and let out a shaky exhale, trying to keep his emotions under control. “She always managed to make the most outta everythin'. When I saw a glass tha' was half empty, she saw a glass tha' was half full. Ya know, our first apartment we lived in after movin' outta her mom's trailer was so shitty.”

“Yeah?” Rick replied, just letting Daryl know that he was listening.

“Yeah,” Daryl confirmed with a broken chuckle, nodding his head and allowing Hazel to play with his fingers. “Hot water didn't work most'a the time, the oven only worked when it wanted to, the pipes made this weird screeching sound whenever it was cold, and the window to our bedroom was jammed shut. It never opened, so it was hella hot in the summer.” He sighed again and shook his head. “We lived in tha' crappy place fer years 'fore either of us had 'nough money to move into a better place. But she never complained, never threatened to leave me if I didn't find a better apartment, never once blamed me when she had to take a cold shower in the winter. Hell, she even planned on proposin' to me 'cause I was takin' too long.” For added emphasis, he lifted his left hand to show off the silver band he proudly wore every day of his life since that day in your apartment. “I beat her to it, though. She's jus' so amazin'. I love her. I can't lose her. I'll die without her.” And with that last sentence, a sob finally broke out of the archer's chest.

Within seconds, Rick had gently grabbed Hazel from Daryl's arms and passed her over to Carol—who had been on her way to offer her own support to the huntsman—before wrapping his arms around his unofficial brother. Judith had been passed over to Beth during Daryl's speech to be put down for the night, so it made it easier for the former sheriff to jump up and hug Daryl. The archer never once displayed any forms of sadness in front of the group that had to do with crying. His sadness was usually handled through anger, but this wasn't a usual situation. You—the love of his life and the mother of his baby girl—were clinging on for dear life in your weakened state. The attackers that ambushed the group of people who went on the run the previous day made you suffer the worst of the attack. Hershel did his best with the supplies he had, but there was no telling if you'd recover until you woke up, if you ever woke up. And that scared Daryl beyond belief.

Rick didn't hold Daryl long, maybe two minutes at most, until he pulled away. Daryl furiously wiped at the tears in his eyes, mad at himself for displaying such weakness in front of everybody. However, nobody made any sort of comment towards him, their own understanding and worry towards you preventing them from doing so.

“If there's one thing I know,” Rick began, standing up and allowing Daryl to have some space. “It's that you Dixons are fucking stubborn. She'll pull through, I know it.”

Daryl sniffed and nodded, wiping his eyes one more time before getting up and gently taking his daughter from Carol. “She needs to be put to bed soon. She, uh, needs to see her mama 'fore it, though, jus' in case...”

Just in case you didn't make it.

Rick nodded sympathetically, and with that, Daryl walked away from everyone's empathetic gazes. He walked up the stairs and made his way to the makeshift medical cell, expecting to see you asleep, like you had been for over twenty-four hours at that point. However, he was instead met with the sight of you sat up and crouched over to the side, heaving and clutching at your chest, awake and alert, and he didn't hesitate to call for help.

“Hershel!”

Within seconds, the old man had hobbled himself over to the cell and was by your side in an instant. He was helping you put an oxygen mask over your mouth to help you breath, and once you weren't struggling to breathe anymore, he sent a frightened looking Daryl a reassuring smile. He beckoned him closer, and with Hazel still in his arms, he walked over to you and sat down on the bed, hugging you gently and quickly before pulling back—there would be time to crush you to him and never let you go when you weren't sat with a recently shot stomach and a few broken ribs. Hershel patted his back reassuringly, and he sent a very awake, lucid you a warm smile.

“Welcome back.” He turned to Daryl and nodded. “She pulled through.”

“S'a good sign, righ'?”

For the first time in twenty four hours, Hershel gave the archer good news. “It's a damn good sign.”

You were grunting and reaching out to Daryl, and your husband instantly knew what you were requesting. With a nod from Hershel, Daryl slowly transfered Hazel into your arms, and your little one instantly recognized her mama's touch. Her mood instantly brightened, right alongside her father's.

You were okay. However, the same definitely wouldn't be said for the son of a bitch held prisoner as soon as Daryl was done with him later—he was going to pay for hurting you, and Daryl wasn't going to go easy on him, either.

[g-hughes]

maybe kinda like a part two of the quinn fic where she gets even closer to his brothers and family and quinn is just watching as the most important people in his life all fit together so well

Yours Forever - Q. Hughes

part 1 || masterlist || g's graduation celly

synopsis: it's the 2nd annual Hughes Bowl, and Quinn gets a glimpse at what his future is going to look like

word count: 2.8k

warnings: none!

It was the eve before the second annual “Hughes Bowl'' and you were in a panic. Quinn had gone to the airport to pick up his parents, who made the trek across the continent to watch all three of their boys play together. It must’ve been such a surreal feeling for them, watching their sons on the ice, years of hard work and dedication paying off. From what you had gathered, Ellen and Jim were the Hughes boys’ biggest fans, and would try to make as many games as they could. And if they couldn’t make a game, they were always calling Quinn either right after or the next day to talk about it. 

“Are you sure that the couch looks okay against-” 

“Yes, for the tenth time, yes it looks fine against the wall,” Quinn said as you facetimed him. 

“Do not yell at me, Quintin, I am nervous,” You scolded and Quinn let out a laugh. Ellen and Jim haven’t been to your new apartment that you shared with Quinn. You were nervous for them to be staying with you. What if they didn’t approve of it? What if they hated your decorating skills? What if you weren’t a good homemaker? “Oh my god, I should’ve baked like cookies or something.” 

“You? Bake?” Quinn chuckled again, “Yeah and pigs can fly.” 

“Quinn,” You whined, “I want to make a good impression. This isn’t like going to the lake house or anything. This is our house.” 

Quinn smiled as the word ‘our’ fell from your lips. Almost as soon as the summer ended, he asked you to move in with him, and you, of course, said yes. But Quinn didn’t just want you to move into his apartment, for starters, it was a total man cave, with minimal decorations, one set of silverware he bought at target, and the standard blinds that came with the place. He wanted to get something that was going to be comfortable for you, and close to your work. So the two of you picked out a beautiful apartment in a small village area of Vancouver, it was close to your work, and felt like the two of you could have some privacy. 

“Baby,” Quinn said sincerely, “You have already made the best impression on them. They love you, and nothing is going to change that. . . well maybe your abysmal baking skills,” You giggled, “So please stop stressing. It’s going to be okay.”

You let out a breath and looked around the living room, “I guess you’re right.” 

“I know I am,” Quinn winked at you, “But I gotta go. They just landed. Oh! And the boys should be over soon.” 

“Boys?” You asked, your eyebrows knitting in confusion. 

“Yeah, Jack and Luke are on their way over.” 

“Quinn!” 

“Bye, Love you!” 

You groaned, as the line went dead and you were left glaring at your lock screen of your boyfriend. Though you spent the whole summer with the Hughes brothers, you still felt a bit awkward around them. Every time you tried to get to know them a little bit better, one of their friends was whisking them away to partake in some event. You were cordial toward them, but you weren’t sure what you were going to do to entertain them until Quinn and their parents got home. Hell, you weren’t sure what you were going to feed them until Quinn and their parents got home. 

You couldn’t ponder the question long, as there was a knock on your front door. You smoothed the fabric of your clothes and fixed your hair before opening the door, revealing a smiling Jack and a somewhat smiling Luke. 

“Hey!” You greeted, “Come in! Welcome.” 

The boys lumbered in, taking in the place. “Well, it's obvious Quinn wasn’t allowed to decorate,” Luke joked. 

“Yeah,” You chuckled, “As much as I love Gretzky, I didn’t need a life size portrait of him in my living room.” 

“Oh, I bet Quinn was just devastated,” Jack feigned. 

“Cried for days,” You shook your head, a mock pout on your lips. The boys both chuckled at your response and settled in on the couch. You felt a sense of ease wash over you, a smile tugging at your lips. 

— — — 

Quinn leaned against the passenger side of his jeep, his black yankees cap pulled down low on his head to hopefully hide himself from fans as he waited for his parents. Not that he usually gets ambushed in public, but sometimes he was asked for a picture or to sign an autograph or two. Normally, he wouldn’t mind it, but tonight, he just wanted to get his parents and get back home to his girl and his brothers. He didn’t get a lot of downtime throughout the season to see them, so he was going to take advantage of all the time he could get. 

“Quinny,” His mom’s voice called out to him as they walked out of the airport. He smiled and greeted his parents with a hug, “Where’s Y/N?” 

“Nice to see you too, Mom,” Quinn scoffed, “She’s at the apartment. Jack and Luke are there too.” 

“Oh good,” Ellen smiled, and settled in the backseat so Jim could sit up front with his son, “How are things going? Liking the new place?” 

Quinn nodded his head, “Everything is going great, and yeah we really like it. There’s some nice trails and a park nearby. We try to go on walks every morning together.” 

“And?” Ellen asked. 

“And?” Quinn asked back, “And everything is good. Y/N just got a promotion at work, her hours are more flexible. We’ve even been looking at adopting a cat, Y/N says she needs a friend when I’m gone on roadies.” Quinn was not a cat person, not even in the slightest, but seeing the way your eyes light up as you showed him the adoptable cats on the city shelter page made his heart flutter. 

“And?” Ellen asked, once again. 

“And what, Mom?” Quinn shook his head, “Everything is good.” 

“She wants to know when you’re going to propose,” Jim said, filling in the blank that Ellen had left. 

“Oh,” Quinn blushed. He bit his bottom lip as his eyes darted to the glove box, “I uh. . . I might’ve bought a ring a couple weeks ago.” 

“Oh I knew it!” Ellen exclaimed, “Jack said you were asking him about what kind of ring styles Y/N would like.” 

Quinn rolled his eyes. He really needed to stop telling Jack things about his relationship. Jack was like his mom’s spy. 

“When are you going to do it?” Ellen asked, “How are you going to do it?” 

“I don’t know,” Quinn shrugged. 

He thought about waiting until the season was over, but it was only December, and he wasn’t sure he could wait that long without putting that ring on your finger. He also knew that neither one of you liked to be the center of attention, and a big proposal wasn’t what you would want. You guys had talked about it before, you wanted your proposal to be an intimate affair, and a small celebration afterwards with your family and friends. 

“Have you asked for permission?” Jim asked, “You have to ask for permission.” 

“Yeah I did,” Quinn nodded. He invited your dad, who was a lifelong Canucks fan, to a morning skate and then a chance to meet the guys afterward. Quinn had then taken him to a nearby brunch spot, where he had asked for his blessing to marry you. Your dad had never been a man to show his emotions, unless he was watching a hockey game, but he had teared up, and told Quinn that he was the only man he ever thought worthy of marrying his little girl. And those words made Quinn tear up too. 

“I’m so happy for you, Q,” Ellen leaned forward, putting her hand on his arm, “She’s a very special girl.” 

“I know, Mom,” Quinn looked over his shoulder briefly at her, “I’m lucky to have her.” 

Quinn pulled into his parking spot, grabbing his mom’s suitcase for her. The elevator ride was short up to their floor, Quinn talking about how the team was coming along this season. After last year’s historic turnaround and run in the playoffs, Quinn felt the pressure even more in his second season as captain. He needed to prove not only to his team, but to the city that last year wasn’t a fluke. That Canucks hockey was back, and Quinn was going to lead his team back to the playoffs and hopefully to the Cup. 

“Between Yogi and Krog, we’ve been working so hard on the powerplay,” Quinn shook his head, “It was our downfall last year in the second round, but I feel like we’ve really turned it around.” 

“I agree,” Jim nodded his head, “You guys look like a totally different crew when the power play comes around. Toch probably feels relieved to have someone else on that call.” 

“Yeah,” Quinn nodded as he neared his front door, pulling his key out, “Krog has been such a good addition. The guys really like him and-” 

“You fucking suck!” A loud curse came from the other side. He stared at the door for a moment before another loud yell came out, “I fucking hate you!” Quinn’s eyebrows arose in concern as he quickly unlocked his front door. 

“Hey! Everything al-” Quinn shouted as he walked into the apartment. 

“You two fucking cheated!” Jack exclaimed, jumping up from the couch, “You cheated! I know you did!” 

“How do you cheat in Mario Kart?” Luke asked, chuckling. 

“I don’t know! But she cheated!” Jack flopped down on the couch. 

“I’m sorry, Jacky, you just aren’t as good as you thought you were,” You laughed and a feeling of relief flooded Quinn’s body as the familiar sound of the video game filled the space. You looked over your shoulder, a bright smile on your face, “Oh hey!” Then your eyes widened as you noticed Ellen and Jim behind your boyfriend. You quickly jumped up from the couch, and made your way over to them, “Hey! Welcome to Vancouver.” 

You hugged them both, as Jack paused the video game and walked over to his family. 

“Thank you for inviting us,” Ellen beamed at you, “And kicking my son’s ass in Mario Kart.” 

“They ganged up on me!” Jack whined, “I was out numbered.” 

Quinn wrapped his arm around you, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. You blushed and looked at him, “How was the drive?” 

“Not bad,” Quinn shrugged, “How were the heathens?” 

“Could’ve been worse,” You chuckled, “Could’ve been better if Jack didn’t suck at Mario Kart.” 

“Alright,” Jack slammed his hands down on the counter playfully, “Rematch. Right Now.” 

“Oh you’re on,” You jested, rushing over to the couch with Jack and Luke in tow. Quinn shook his head with a laugh, his heart feeling full as he watched you interact with his brothers. His brothers’ opinions had always mattered so much to him, so seeing you so casually fitting in with them, made Quinn even more sure of his decision. 

— — —

Quinn love hated playing against his brothers. He loved watching them out on the ice, playing a sport that they’ve all grown to love, chasing their childhood dreams. But he hated having to be the opponent, the enemy. He hated that only one of them was going to go home victorious and with bragging rights for the next couple of months until they played each other again. Quinn loved seeing the bright smiles on his younger brothers faces when the final buzzer would go off, but he hated the feeling of letting his team down. 

You waited by the locker room for Quinn, his mother and father already headed back to the apartment. They knew that the only one Quinn would want to be around or talk to after the loss was you. For years, Ellen and Jim had tried to be the ones who Quinn would talk to after losses, but they gave up once he was about 15. But you managed to crack that tough interior of Quinn Hughes. You gave him a sad smile as he walked out of the locker room, his hair still wet from his shower. You were a bit surprised to see him back in his suit, normally he would have traded it in for some sweatpants and a hoodie. 

“Hi,” You whispered to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. Your fingers brushed over the red mark on his forehead from his helmet, “You did good.” 

“Not good enough,” He huffed, putting one of his hands on your hip, “We should’ve won,” Quinn shook his head, “But I’m happy the boys won.” 

“I know,” You said, “It sucks to lose, but I’m glad Jack and Luke got the win.” Quinn nodded his head, “C’mon, let’s go home.” 

“Wait,” He said, grabbing your hand, “I think I left my stick in the box. Come with me?” 

“Can’t you get it tomorrow?” Your eyebrows creased in confusion. 

“No!” Quinn said, quickly, “Uh no. The equipment guys want all the sticks accounted for the night after the game. They’re weird like that.” You nodded your head slowly, still suspicious of his motive, but agreed to follow him back towards the arena. 

The arena was dark, except for a single spot light in the middle of the ice on the Canucks logo, and the blue band lighting around the lower bowl. It was weird walking into the rink, and it being quiet, save for your footsteps on the concrete. You were so used to this place being loud and bursting with excitement, it was a nice change to see it like this. In the past year, Rogers Arena has felt like a second home, a safe space. 

“It’s weird seeing this place quiet,” You said, as you walked to the team bench, “I kind of like it.” 

“Then you’ll like this even more,” Quinn said, “C’mere.” He held his hand out, and you took it. There was a carpet laid out from the gate on the boards, to the center of the ice. 

You looked around, in awe at the sight before you, “This. . . is crazy,” You scoffed in disbelief, “I can’t even imagine what it is like twenty thousand people are yelling your name,” You cupped your hands around your mouth, whispering yelling, “Huggy Bear! Huggy Bear! Huggy Bear!” 

Quinn chuckled, reaching out to you and grabbing your hips, “It’s a pretty surreal feeling. Sometimes I can’t even believe that this is my life. That I’m really in the NHL, and I’m really living my childhood dream, playing against some of my childhood icons and-” 

“And beating them,” You winked. 

“And beating them,” Quinn added, “But I was going to say, and I get to do this with the love of my life by my side.” Your heart started beating faster, butterflies taking flight in your stomach as Quinn grabbed both of your hands in his, “Y/N L/N, from the moment you crashed into my life, literally,” You chuckled as tears started filling your eyes, “I knew that you were going to be it. I didn’t know I was missing something until you came into my life and it all just seemed to make sense. I felt complete. You made me feel complete.” 

At this point, both you and Quinn had tears in your eyes. He let go of your hand, as he got down on one knee, pulling out a small light blue box from his pocket. Your hands flew up to your mouth, as he opened the lid. 

“Y/N, will you please-” 

“Yes!” 

“I didn’t finish-” 

“I know, but yes!” You grabbed Quinn’s face in your hands, placing a tender, yet reassuring kiss on his lips. 

“But I have to finish asking you,” Quinn said. 

“Okay,” You nodded, standing back up, “Ask me.” 

“Y/N, will you marry-” 

“Yes!” Quinn chuckled, grabbing your left hand, and sliding the simple, yet beautiful ring on your finger. He stood up, as you threw your arms around his neck, crashing your lips to his. He stumbled for a moment, before wrapping his arms tightly around you. You leaned your forehead against his, “I love you.” 

“I love you,” You said, wiping away a stray tear from his face, “This is the best day ever.” 

“Just wait until we get to say ‘I Do’ for real,” Quinn pressed a quick kiss to your lips, “Now c’mon, Jack said he was getting us a cake to celebrate.” You smiled, as you took Quinn’s hand and walked off the ice. When you reached the locker room you froze. 

“Oh my god,” You gasped and Quinn looked at you in a panic. 

“What? What is it? What’s wrong? 

“Who’s going to be your best man?” You and Quinn both shared a look of momentary panic.

“They can play rock, paper, scissors for it.”

[lennadanvers]

Good girl

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

A couple of warnings: this does not contain smut. It's more of a hurt-comfort fic. (With a little bit of angst, I guess.) And it is self indulgent.

To all my oldest daughters/sisters, to anyone who has learned that everything and everyone else comes first (before you). To all the perfectionists, the hard workers. To those who haven't found home yet. You deserve to get what you give. You deserve to give less than all you've got. To the girls who were called perfect so much that it feels degrading now. You're not perfect. You're human. You can breathe and make mistakes. You're not different from anyone else. Take up space. Make mistakes. Be selfish. Be ugly. Love isn't earned, it is given.

“You don’t have to be good.”

You flinch and he wants to die.

Simon didn’t mean to say it. He doesn’t even mean it. Not like that. It’s just that it has been cooking for so long that it came out without his permission. Stupid bloody mouth.

He knows you hate that word. Good. Such an awful concept. As much as it is an impossibility to him- a thing like God or normal- it is a curse to you. Goodie two shoes, is what you hear. Little miss perfect. An iron ball at the end of the chain around your neck.

He knows.

He sees it when he gets home a couple hours after you, and- even before he’s taken off his shoes- you’re telling him what you got done around the house. It’s second nature. He hates it.

Hates it when you wash the dishes even though it’s late. Hates when you do everything for yourself. When you cook, make tea, clean. Simon has never ever had the chance to clean up your mess. You never leave a mess. Always tidy, always clean, always everything in its place.

It’s not like he doesn’t do his part. Simon does just as much as you do around the house. He vacuums, does laundry, buys groceries. But it’s not the same.

He noticed you never eat the last cookie. You always leave them in the package, ready for him to find. It’s the same when you bake cakes: you leave the last piece untouched. Before taking a shower, you ask him if he was about to. You can wait, he takes less time showering anyway. When you’re watching the telly and he peeks from the hallway, you pause to see if he wanted to watch something. “I’ve already watched a couple episodes,” you tell him, “are you sure you don’t want to see the match?”

He doesn’t.

Simon wants to see you relaxed. That’s what he wants. He wants to see two or three pairs of your shoes by the bed. He wants to open the kitchen drawer and see that there are no cookies left. Wants to get home and find you painting your nails, oblivious to the dirty dishes in the kitchen. For once.

He wants to feel that you live there. That you’re actually a person. He doesn’t want you to be your mother’s daughter or your brother’s older sister. Simon wants you to be you.

He clears his throat. He’s not sure what to do with his arms, so he’s standing in the middle of your living room, still in uniform. Shit, he should take off the mask.

You’re looking at Simon with the same eyes you have when you hang up after talking to your mother over the phone. After she spent half an hour telling you how your “little” brother- the man is barely two years younger than you, for God’s sake- has a terrible schedule, always sleeping too little and not helping around the house. Because yes, unsurprisingly, your brother still lives at home. Once he told Simon- apparently joking- that he didn’t have to sweep the floors if he didn’t have his own place.

“That’s not… Not what I mean.”

There it is again. Your patience. You’re hurt- he knows it, even though he can’t see it; you never let it show-, and you’re still waiting for him to finish talking. Always attentive. Sometimes, Simon wishes you’d yell at him. Or be rude. Something. He doesn’t want you to mistreat him, it’s just… You deserve to let it out. And he’s a bloody good punching bag. He’d gladly take that place. If only you granted him the honor.

“I just… Aren’t you tired, love?”

You twist the kitchen towel in your hands and his stomach mirrors the motion. Your voice is carefully stable and light. Fake. Empty. “Like, from work? No, I’m okay. I mean, this project turned out to be more…”

He can’t stand it. Simon grabs your hand and pulls, absorbing you into a hug. He knows you like his chest. It’s like a warm pillow, you told him once, it’s comfortable. He hopes you meant safe. He hopes this’ll be easier to hear if he isn’t looking at you. He hopes it is not too late. He hopes you’re not too hurt.

“I’m sorry. I know the project is taking a toll on you.” His big hand moves softly against your waist, holding you closer. “You’re doing so much. You always do a lot. Just wanted to make sure you knew you don’t have to.”

You’re tense, and he can’t tell if it is a good sign or not. Simon closes his eyes and kisses the top of your head, right under his chin.

“You’re always good, you know that, right? Even if you aren’t doing anything. I just want to get home and see you. Don’t need you to put the dishes away or clean the bathroom, okay? It is okay to rest.”

He pretends not to feel you wiping your cheek against his t-shirt.

“Really, I’m not tired. And I don’t want you to get home to a mess, I-“

“You can rest even if you don’t need it, yeah?”

You’re good to me anyway. I don’t love you because of the way you keep the mirrors clean. Please take from me. Let me help you so I know you love me too.

He doesn’t say it. They aren’t actual words in his brain. It’s more of a desperation deep into his heart. Simon hasn’t cried in a while, but your hair looks blurry as you shake your head.

“I know, don’t worry.”

He doesn’t think you do. Or, he knows you do, he just doesn’t think you feel it. He’s seen the guilt in your eyes. It is there all the time. It must be a terrible thing to bear. To not have done anything bad and still carry the guilt. Simon has killed. He deserves to hold the weight of those lives; of the punches, shots and stabs that took people away from the world. He knows it. But you… You’re guilty of existing. Barely. And it’s eating you from the inside.

“Can you do me a favor?”

He hates to put it this way. Doesn’t want you doing anything for him. Least of all this. But he knows this is the only way you’ll agree to do it, at least for now. When you chirp a high-pitched “Of course!”- of course, as if it was obvious, as if you owed him something- he fights to keep his voice steady. His heart is not, but hopefully you’ll pretend not to hear it.

“Go lay on the couch, love.”

You start to protest, but he isn’t having it. He turns you around, snatching the kitchen cloth from your confused hands, and guides you to the living room.

“Put on your show, why don’t you? You’re about to start the new season, right? Give me a second and I’ll be here with you.”

Simon knows better than to give you the chance to reply. He shoves the remote in your hands and speedwalks to your bedroom. It’s bloody spotless; he frowns at the perfectly made bed. Your drawers are the epitome of tidiness too, it’s easy to find your favorite pajama. He hurries back to you.

Usually- always- you get dressed without help. This time, he takes your clothes off, folding them neatly and placing them on the corner of the coffee table before easing you into the soft pajama. He places your very confused self back onto the couch and covers you with a blanket before laying behind you.

You don’t really complain after that, which makes him feel lighter. He knows this doesn’t fix anything. He also knows he has to start somewhere.

Simon orders your favorite food, only letting you get up to go to the bathroom, and pets your hair. When you fall asleep, he kisses your temple and carries you to the bed. Before joining you, he makes sure every inch of the apartment is perfect. No dirty dishes, no messy couch, not a single thing for you to do. He even puts air freshener. Simon doesn’t mind doing all that in the morning, but you’ll see it as a chore and he won’t let that happen.

No, tomorrow you’re staying in bed. You’re sleeping the ten hours you need, you’re snuggling with him, and you’re going to relax at least a little. He grabs the book you bought weeks ago but haven’t started yet on his way to bed, and leaves it on your bedside table.

As he gets under the covers, he wipes his cheeks. Tomorrow you’re learning to voice your needs and put yourself first. Tomorrow you’ll stop walking on eggshells in your own home. Tomorrow you’ll be upset, tired, angry, annoyed and lazy. And he’ll be thankful for that. He’ll step up and be calm, energetic, patient, loving and take care of things. Tomorrow he’ll take care of you, and you’ll let him.

Tomorrow you won’t be perfect. Tomorrow you’ll be happy.

Okay, he admits to himself. Maybe not tomorrow. But tomorrow you’re starting. He’ll make sure of that. Simon is going to take care of you.

[seeingivy]

sharing

ryomen sukuna x f!reader

**part of my best friend's older brother fic

previous part linked here

--

things change slightly in the weeks that follow. 

according to your mom, who called you very upset on a tuesday afternoon, your dad had apparently decided to stay in town until the end of the month – and on very strict orders from sukuna and possibly any shred of self-preservation that you had in you – you weren’t going to be going back until he was gone for good. 

messages from sammy were few and infrequent, except for whenever she got drunk – something she very clearly got from your mom. always the same message, deeply apologetic and regretful, and it somehow was very slowly melting whatever it was that happened at the funeral. 

or it was just one of those things. 

she was your sister – she was blunt, a little harsh at times, but well meaning. or at least trying to be. but she was still your sister and for some reason, you were just going to get over it, in the real way, without thinking twice. 

but you do realize that it was too naive to think that years of butting heads and stepping on each other’s toes wasn’t going to go away just because you had decided to be friends and sang kumbaya while buying lingerie. 

that much should have been obvious though, since sukuna and yuuji had done their version of that years prior, and yet still had the meltdown they did a few months ago. it was always one of those complicated things you figured – growing up in the same house, being competition, stuck in admiration or hatred. 

the family business, one that sukuna and yuuji both refused to ever be a part of, has fallen at the seams. and while sukuna has no intention of ever working there – much to satoru’s delight – he’s fixing the mess of the finances that were left behind for all of the employees and the stipends that he were going to help his mom. 

meaning he has to go back to town. the town that you refuse to return to for the time being. and he won’t let you accompany him.   

and it’s in the week that he disappears that you wonder if you’re starting to be too codependent. if it’s normal for you to miss someone this amount, to worry about him so much, to the point where he occupies your every thought. 

he tries to call when he can. sometimes they’re a few in between because you know that he’s spending time with his mom, that he doesn’t like being home, that whatever it all is – it’s stressful and he hates it. 

your mom sends you a picture of him once in a while. sometimes you stare at it for a little too long. 

“hi sweet girl. how are you?” 

his voice sounds tired over the phone, the smallest hint of a rasp tinged in with the strained tone. 

“i’m okay, ryo. how are you?” 

sukuna can feel his heart sink at the nickname. at the fact that you use nicknames, terms of endearment, and he hasn’t heard them in days. 

“good, good. are you getting ready for bed?” sukuna asks. 

“yeah.” 

there’s a quiet beat. maybe you should have been more descriptive than that. that was a little flat. 

“is that fucking gel cat strawberry in the spot next to you?” 

you smile. 

“it’s a jelly cat. and yes, it is.” 

“enjoy it while it lasts. i’m going to throw it out the window when i get back.” 

“you’re so rude.” 

he laughs over the line and you can’t help but sigh before immediately regretting it. 

you wonder if he sleeps well. or if he laughs often with the moms or if he’s just run in different directions trying to make sure they’re all okay. 

“oh don’t break my heart, now. you miss me, sweetheart?” he murmurs. 

you can tell by the tone in the voice that he’s trying to coddle you. you almost want to give in just to hear him sweet talk you down. 

“yeah. gets real scary here without you.” you joke

“is that right?” 

“not actually. but you know like right before you go to sleep and the house creaks? i panic for one second and then decide that i should send a prayer out to the universe so i don’t die before falling asleep.” 

“always one for the dramatics.” 

“i know. i’m sure it always creaks but i’ve always shared a room – either with sammy or with mai across the way who was always blasting music. and you snore, so i never even not–” 

“i don’t snore.” 

“yes, you do.” 

“no, i don’t.” 

“i will admit. while it does take me some time to fall asleep, i’ve never slept so soundly with you gone. it’s so serene.” 

you know for a fact that sukuna’s rolling his eyes on the other side of the line. 

“wow, sweetheart. i should just do you a favor and stay here longer then.” 

“every night i wake up in a panic without you! i’ll never sleep again!” you joke. 

sukuna laughs. 

“that sounds about right. but really…i…i’ll be back soon, okay? i don’t like being away for so long.” he murmurs quietly. 

you frown. 

“don’t feel bad. you know you have to be there.” 

“i don’t feel bad. well, maybe i do a little but i mainly just fucking miss you.” he mumbles. 

you smile. 

“sap.” 

you pause. 

“i miss you too, you know?” 

“i was waiting for that. give me a little more.” he responds. 

you smile. mainly at the fact that he expresses what he wants so openly. or that he misses it just as much as you do. 

“i miss you a lot. it feels so weird to sleep in our bed without you that i fall asleep on the fold out couch.” 

sukuna scoffs. 

“you mean you fall asleep watching tv and don’t move because i’m not there to pick you up?” 

“yeah, more like that.” 

sukuna laughs. 

“sleep in the guest.” 

“ew. it smells like yuuji and megumi’s cologne. and while they smell great, i don’t like smelling like them when i wake up.” 

“does our bed smell like me?” he asks. 

“yeah but i prefer the real thing so i sleep on the couch. i refuse to elaborate.” 

sukuna gets it. 

“i’ll be back soon, okay? i’m almost done and then…then i’m running back to you, alright?” he whispers. 

“okay. i do have something planned this weekend for your birthday, but don’t stress about it. it won’t be anything big.” 

sukuna pauses. 

he forgot that his birthday was coming around. 

he would be lying if he was saying that he wasn’t looking forward to it. he supposes that he was your opposite in that way. since no matter what it was, the circumstances good or bad, your birthday had been soured so bad that nothing could make it good – not even him. 

he didn’t blame you. or even take it personally.  

but he couldn’t relate. because he knew you – and it wasn’t arrogant of him to assume that you were going to go all out, no matter the circumstances. not only did you have a bad habit of leaving tabs or notes that were very clearly labeled gift ideas out in the open, but he knew that you would do something special for him, that he’d get to chart in all of the cherished memories that he had with you. 

it would be another sour patch of his that you’d sew right over, with careful and steady hands. but with every milestone that he thought of now, it was bittersweet. 

first birthday with you. first birthday without his dad – not that it really meant much in the first place. 

“no parties.” sukuna clarifies. 

“no, it’ll actually be just you and me. and i think you’ll like it, you–” 

“i’ll love it.” 

you smile. 

“i love you.” you state. 

he’s quiet on the other side of the line. 

“sukuna?” 

“i want to say it back but the moms are staring at me.” he mumbles quietly.

you smirk. 

“say it.” 

“no.” 

“you’re going to let me go to bed without an i love you?” 

“i’ll text it to you.” 

“ryomen sukuna. tell me you love me.” 

sukuna sighs. 

“i love you. call me if you can’t sleep, okay?” 

you can hear giggling in the background. and you’re sure he’s three different shades of pink. 

“i will.” 

--

not even an hour later, yuuji is standing on your doorstep – with a peachy smile and a bag slung over his shoulder. 

“yuuji? you–” 

“sleepover!” 

he walks past you and falls straight onto the couch, placing his bag next to him as he reaches for the remote. you quickly shut the door and take the spot next to him, watching as he starts shuffling through the movies, so cavalier about barging in so late and unannounced. 

“do you always show up to people’s apartment’s unprovoked with all your things?” 

yuuji smiles, reaching forward to flick your forehead. 

“no, just for you.” 

“figures.” 

you watch as he flits through all of the movies, nestling his head into your shoulder, as you return the gesture and lean your cheek against his. it takes two seconds for you to figure it out. 

“did he call you?” you ask. 

“he did. said some weird stuff about tables and carrying stuff. pretty sure he was just asking me to keep you company, which don’t mind if i do.” yuuji responds. 

you smile. of course. 

“i made one half joke about how i don’t like to sleep alone and he sent you running.” 

“isn’t that sweet? i can tell he’s been thinking about you a lot.” yuuji responds. 

you lean back, giving him a confused look. and you can tell by the look on his face that he knows exactly what you’re trying to get at, but pretends otherwise. 

“what? it’s sweet! he asked me to come take care of you.” yuuji clarifies. 

“since when do you find him sweet? no lecture about how he thinks i can’t handle things on my own?” 

yuuji scoffs, before pressing on the princess diaries. 

“you can’t take care of anything on your own.” 

“what a vote of confidence.” you deadpan

yuuji sighs, as you watch the movie start, and both sink deeper into the couch. a telltale sign that you realize both sukuna and yuuji have – one that you deeply appreciate – is that they’re always careful with their words. 

the opposite of sammy really, of your dad too. they won’t talk until they know whatever they’re going to say is something they mean. 

“you can take care of things on your own. but i like that being with him means that you don’t have to sometimes. for both of you.” yuuji states. 

you smile. 

“i like that too. it’s a nice change.” you respond. 

“i’m really sorry, y/n.” 

“i know.” 

yuuji swallows hard, reaching for the remote and pausing the movie before he turns to your side, your limbs now a tangled mess of being criss-crossed as he leans forward. 

“really. i’ve been so shit to you when this is all i’ve ever wanted for you.” 

“it’s okay. this…this stuff is really complicated for you and…” 

yuuji shakes his head, before looking down at your joined hands, fingers interlocked together. 

“this isn’t any excuse but…but…” 

yuuji sighs. 

“when sukuna came back, i thought he was really different. i mean, he was really different. i don’t know what you noticed, but he came back softer. he always gave me my space and let me come to him and we were working back through all of our stuff together.” yuuji starts. 

you’re not sure if you noticed a difference after he came back. he always seemed the same as always – a little withholding, like he was keeping you at arms distance. though, that seems to make more sense to you now. 

“but he’s still the brother i grew up with. there’s still things that i’m sensitive to, that…that i can’t get over.” 

you feel a pang in your chest. 

“i get that. you know…i kind of get that with sammy sometimes.” 

yuuji frowns. 

“yeah?” he whispers. 

you can feel the bitter contempt in your chest lingering. 

“i don’t know. i thought things were going well but…sometimes it’s just the same things as before. she’s just…always brushing me off. so harsh with her words. sometimes i think about the funeral and i’m glad sukuna’s not here just so i can lock myself in here and be alone.” 

you shake your head. 

“it’s like she’s picking at a scab. it’s the one thing i don’t want her to do and it’s the one thing that always happens. and she’s the only person who has that power in the first place, who…who gets to be that sore spot. and i know that it’s just how it is and it’s complicated but…” 

“but you can’t.” yuuji finishes. 

you shrug. 

“you were my scab.” yuuji states. 

you curl your nose in disgust, looking up to find the same expression mirrored on his face before you both laugh. 

“real cute.” 

“i mean…my thing with sukuna was that he was always better than me in every respect. that…that everything he did was perfect, that…that he was born normal and i wasn’t.” 

you cringe. 

“you are normal, you..” 

yuuji smiles. 

“i know i am. i just mean in my head, i always figured things were so easy for him. school was easy, sports were easy. he liked girls – he’d never have to sit there and debate if he was ever going to meet someone who liked him and when if he did, he wouldn’t have to give up his entire family for it.” 

yuuji pauses. 

“you were my best friend. you are my best friend. you’re my thing that’s always been easy. we don’t really fight, spending time with you never gets old, and…and really, you’re the only person i’ve known will always be around.” 

you smile. 

“it just felt like another thing he was going to be better at than me. and it’s selfish, but it was something i didn’t want to share. and i don’t expect you to get it, but…” 

you scoff. 

“don’t expect me to get it? you’re forgetting that i was the one who had to learn how to share you first. and maybe i didn’t say it out loud, but…i had some evil monologues for megumi that i was cooking up in my head.” 

yuuji laughs, almost like he’s relieved. 

“really?” 

“trust me. there was an entire basis behind the petty comments that i was making. i should have been more open with it but…but i don’t hate you for feeling that way. if anything, it makes me kind of happy, i guess. it did feel like you forgot all about me once you guys started dating, but…it’s nice to know you feel that way still. about me. even if it was annoying.” 

you pause. 

“you and i are special. and i can’t speak for you, but…sukuna’s never going to be what you are for me. i love him, but you…you’re not someone who could ever be replaced.” you affirm. 

yuuji smiles. 

“and megumi isn’t what you are for me either. he’s the love of my life. but you’re always going to be my soulmate.” 

you smile, rolling over the word in your head. soulmate – you and yuuji were soulmates. and he leans forward, placing his hands on your shoulder and squeezing. 

“now go on. tell me about him.” 

“what?” you ask. 

“i know you want to tell me about how happy you are. how it makes you feel. and i want to hear it. just refrain from talking about like how big his dick is or whatever and i’ll be fine.” 

you smile. 

“really? you mean it?” 

yuuji smiles back. 

“i’ve unfortunately heard the entire story of what that asshole was doing to you after the fact. it would make me really happy to hear how happy you are now.” 

you lean back on the couch and explain it all to him – french toast, bridgerton mugs (which he winces at when he remembers sammy broke them), emails, his coworkers, kisa, and everything in between. 

you don’t hear the apartment creak at night when you go to bed – instead it’s his labored breaths next to yours. 

--

sukuna makes it back early in the morning to find yuuji making breakfast in the kitchen and what he knows is you facedown still dead asleep in the mound of blankets on the couch. he gives yuuji a noncommittal wave before walking over to the couch and bending down at the side. 

sukuna can’t help but reach forward, brushing his back of his fingers against the softness of your cheek before tangling your hair away from your forehead. he can smell the remnants of the shampoo in your hair, your lips still a glossy pink from the balm you put on at night. 

“wake her up. give her a kiss.” yuuji whispers, now standing at his side. 

“are you crazy? she’s sleeping.” 

sukuna shakes his head, reaching forward to press a kiss to your hairline, before the two of them shuffle back to the kitchen. sukuna settles for a cup of coffee as he watches yuuji make the mix of french toast, the stillness hanging in the air between them. 

“dunno. if it were me and i went days without seeing megumi, i’d wake him up right away. why deprive myself of love and affection?” 

“you should deprive yourself more often. i’ve seen you two kiss far too many times. heard the words gumi bear way more than i’d like to.” 

yuuji snorts. 

“was she happy you came?” sukuna asks. 

“yeah. doubt she heard any of that creaking or anything she was telling you about since we were talking the entire time.” yuuji responds. 

it’s a small breath of relief – that sending yuuji was the right move – only to be coupled with guilt. 

sukuna hadn’t had time to check in on yuuji. 

“what did you talk about?” 

yuuji grins. 

“you.” 

yuuji looks over at him, grinning at him fully this time. 

“special edition bridgerton mugs? twilight themed emails? who knew you were so fucking corny? and that you watch bridgerton?” 

sukuna can feel his cheeks heat up, as he rolls his eyes. 

“she loves that shit. she made me watch it.” 

“no, she didn’t. she told me that you had watched it already and that your favorite season is the first one? not only are you a liar but you have god awful taste.” 

“let me guess. you like kate and anthony, like every other person on the fucking planet?” 

yuuji rolls his eyes. 

“everyone likes it for a reason. it’s perfect.” 

the two of them glare at each other, before giving up, and letting the same stillness take over. it’s not exactly uncomfortable, but there’s something lingering there – the two of them are stuck in their own heads about how they’re going to approach it, and more importantly, who is going to do it first. 

it’s yuuji. 

“the mugs thing is sweet. i’m sorry sammy broke them.” 

sukuna shrugs. 

“i’m bidding on ebay. no big deal.” 

yuuji notes that he responds to the second part of the statement and not the first. 

“i like that you do nice things for her. she really appreciates that you do.” yuuji repeats. 

 sukuna sighs. 

“did she say that?” 

yuuji smiles. 

“all that and more. she really loves you.” 

sukuna lets his eyes wander back to the couch, settling back into how foreign the apartment feels from being away for so long, and trying to let it all come back to him – how it was before he left things, how the two of you were. 

he’s scared he’ll do it wrong. 

“I’m really happy for you too. she’s exactly what you deserve.” yuuji states. 

it’s a weird sense of deja vu that sukuna gets – of the very first night. that loud bar, the mildew smell in the bathroom, and your tear streaked pink face. of the very first time that it occurred to him that there were people who had upset you, who had let you down, and that maybe he was the only person who was good enough for you – because he was the only one who intended to give you what you deserve. 

that he got to reap the goodness of the sweet love when he knew for a fact that he’d always be one to give it back to you, no matter how he was. that he was exactly what you deserved – maybe the only person who was because of how much he loved you. 

“what?” 

yuuji takes a beat. 

“were you expecting the opposite?” yuuji asks. 

“do you blame me?” 

yuuji shakes his head. 

“i am really happy for both of you. but i wouldn’t lie if i said i was more happy for you. i’ve known her a long time – and i’ve always wanted her to have someone who saw her for how special she is. and i always knew that it would happen, it was just a matter of time.” 

yuuji continues. 

“but i’m more happy for you. i had no idea that you had liked her for that long. i only now realize that the only person you could be that open with is her. and well…i don’t fucking know. shit sucked when we were kids. maybe for all of us, but for you the most. i know she loves hard. and i mean it, that’s what you deserve after everything.” 

there’s a lump in sukuna’s throat. he wants to tell yuuji everything – about why he left, about how him being around made it easy for him for a long time, how there was a time where he didn’t think he was going to live past twenty and now he’s reaching yet another birthday on the weekend. 

“i spent my entire life thinking i’d never get to be in love. and i’m not sure if that’s what you thought – but i know you weren’t ever thinking you’d get the girl of your dreams, and that on top of that, that it would be perfect. but really. it’s nothing more than what you deserve, sukuna.” 

but all he does is give him a nod. yuuji’s smart enough to parse what it means – that in the long rambling that he heard last night – he knows he has to learn how to read the silences, the quiet cues. 

“it means a lot to her that you came around.” sukuna starts. 

sukuna clears his throat. 

“and to me too.” he finishes. 

yuuji smiles. 

“and i suppose i should thank you. i always said she was like family to me, but it’ll be nice to tell people she’s actually my sister in the future.” yuuji responds, before squeezing his shoulder. 

sukuna smiles. 

“do you really let her call you ryomen?” yuuji asks. 

“yeah.” 

“thought you hated that name.” 

“i did.” 

there’s a reason that he went by sukuna. because every time that he slipped, he’d hear that godwful venomous voice, of his father telling him that he had given him such a special family name – and that sukuna had done nothing to deserve it. 

sukuna vividly remembers when he was a kid, when he used to beg everyone around him to call him sukuna, correcting them until they virtually forgot that his name was ryomen in the first pace. 

sukuna can feel the dryness in his throat, accompanied with a burning wetness in his eyes. yuuji makes no comment about it. 

“she just says it with so much love.” 

sukuna pauses, trying to will away that rising wave of emotion that was simmering in his chest, and put it away for the time being. 

“what did she get me for my birthday?” sukuna asks. 

yuuji nods. 

“she’s taking you on a weekend trip. a few cities over. she said there’s some cherry blossoms in season and that there’s a few museums that she wants you to see. figured it would be a nice rest for you given everything that’s been going on.” 

sukuna sighs, only because the wave comes back in full force. 

to be loved is to be known. 

clear cut proof that you had heard him loud and clear, when he had bared his soul to you. and not only that, but had known well enough that whatever was stewing in his head was getting dangerously close, maybe the closest it had been in years, to the edge – and that you had every intention to pull him back in the way he had pulled himself out in the first time. 

“is that good?” yuuji asks. 

“it’s perfect.” sukuna responds, before giving him one last nudge. 

sukuna decides that he won’t deprive himself. and instead leans forward, pressing his lips against yours – and pleasantly surprised when you smile right back at him in your sleep, his name honey on your lips, as he sinks into your arms. 

--

an: kind of filler again. sorry. apologies. also two more of this fic before it's done :O

taglist: @porridgesblog @k0z3me @sugu-love @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @gojoswifeyyys-world @cutiejg @chilichopsticks @ghostreadersthings @charlie-xo @whoami-72 @heijihattorisgf @megu-meow @complexivelovely @multiplefandomthings @hoebuns @lzaj19 @glossygreene @ramluvr @sureconfused @najaemism @manduse @imhorn1help @gamergirl5125 @r0ckst4rjk @invisible-mori @isaacdaknight @wishmemel @gyros-cum-sock @suftsunshine @i0099 @cowgirlikets @haitanibros0007 @stuffeddeer @yoontaedotin @ec3lipsy @armani78 @awkwardaardvarkforever @kereseth @leave-rae-alone @ruruvia @princess-ackerman @jjkwritingss @lilkiwikiara @opchara @telepathicheartss @starriesworlds @raechu11 @exprimidordefresas @nxxrxm @aalloochaat @strangehuman101 @tzutology

[kaszuma]

Mockery | Hoshina Soshiro

Part 0 of “Certainly Yours”

pairing: Hoshina Soshiro x fem!reader

summary: Mina Ashiro needed a team. But the moment she found one, she was at a loss at what to do when her Vice Captain and Lead Technician got off on the wrong foot.

warnings: Slight Kn8 B-side Manga Spoilers, Mentions of Soshiro struggling with self-worth, Mentions of slight animosity between you and Soshiro but nothing too major, First-time meeting, Mentions very few graphic depictions of slaying Kaiju.

wc: 9,712

–

note: Hello! Sorry for the long wait.

I originally planned to write Part 7 first. but decided to write Part 0 as a special chapter since I've hit a hundred followers. But by the time I finished, we hit 150. Thank you lots!!

There is less romance on this one, since it's a prequel to Part 1 of Certainly Yours. I originally wanted to incorporate a rivalry or an initial animosity between reader and Soshiro. So this was my best attempt on the subject.

There is a lot more interaction and inner pining because it's still in the initial stages in the relationship. And I had a difficult time cross referencing B-side manga with the things I've already written thus far. I’m disappointed we don't really have much information on Soichiro. And I have big plans to incorporate him in a separate part in much more excruciating detail later down the line. Involving jealousy..

Anyways. For now, I shall write Part 7 and give ya'll the comfort you need. Might be the big I love you's, you're looking for. Wink wink.

Also, please tell me if I missed any warnings. None of these are proof read and my phone lags really bad when I post 9k words worth of fanfiction.

–

The feeling of being needed was a foreign concept that Soshiro Hoshina had never experienced for himself.

The road that he paved himself had always been a lonesome one. Carved by the very callouses of his own fingertips. Where he'd dive headfirst into the nose of a cliff filled with criticisms and comparisons. The world familiar to him had always been accompanied by a sense of mockery for his craft. A sneaky way to bury his existence in the wake of the world that had been full of firearms and expert Kaiju exterminators.

In the face of it all, he had always been frustratingly average.

Not nearly as bright as the way his older brother had burned for the adrenaline of the battlefield. The use of firearms, specialized tools and weaponry that had been modernized to slay larger than life Kaiju. Had always been stacked against him. Someone who was not born with the innate ability to tackle such large threats. His use had been chained to the blade. One so sharp and pristined to the point of no return.

For as long as he remembered, it had always been like this.

Even before he had joined the Defense Force of his own volition. He had always felt inferior in the way his brother Soichiro had bested him in every sense of the word. A genius incarnation that had rarely been born into the Hoshina family's already impressive lineage. In a family who prided themselves as generational Kaiju-slayers.

By all means, Soichiro Hoshina was the perfect man born for the front lines. His presence alone dominated the field. Any Challengers he'd face would be a place where normal people would never be able to reach.

He mastered a variety of martial arts at a young age. Already flipping over instructors each time he was paired to a battle in an attrition of self-defense.

The sword techniques passed down within the generations of his ancestors, had all been perfected to improve upon his own. His sword an extension of his arm each time he wielded it. And in terms of firearms? Soshiro couldn't begin to imagine ever reaching the height of his brother's skill. The gap between them in terms of long ranged attacks had been far too large for him to delusionally think he'd ever make it. Let alone surpass.

And although their youngest was plenty good at the progress of his own swordsmanship. Soichiro was on an entirely different level than he was.

A genius, some would call him. A fact the younger Hoshina was far too aware of.

The dust he left behind when he ran forward was often a sight Soshiro was familiar with. Sweeping him off of his feet each time he'd issue a direct challenge with his older brother.

And although he hated to admit it. Soichiro Hoshina's existence was both an inspiration and a mockery to his own.

A frustrating truth that even he had no choice but to believe.

His enigmatic older brother had always been a person who was destined to become the Captain of the sixth division. And his junior of five years, who had not excelled in anything but his skill in close quarter combat. Had all but stood in his shadow, destined to live a much ordinary life as an instructor like his family suggested.

Not a single person expected him to keep fighting.

To keep swinging that blade of his which had been both a boon and bane for his existence in the defense force.

Each humorous jab, or critical comment directed his way, had always been replied with a simple smile on his cat-like features. Far too exhausting to correct the people who had never dreamed to understand what he wished for.

And even if they never did, even if no one ever believed that he'd be able to survive the chaotic life of killing a Kaiju with a blade alone. He'd fight tooth and nail if he had to, In an effort just to keep his style of combat alive.

Because swinging the sword had always been something he found extreme joy in.

He refused to let this be the written ending for his story. Refused to let fate decide on the path to his future actions. Not when his undoing had all been decided by his unlucky birth.

Had Soshiro existed in a different era, far away from Soichiro. Things may have turned out much differently, he imagined.

But alas, he was stuck fighting. Climbing the gritty stairs of progress. Dragging the heavy weights of his blades all the way to the bloody top. And It showed in the way he never stopped practicing. His personalized equipment had always remained in top condition. The sharp end of that thinly-cut mass of iron had always been razor edged and cut-throat in the way it was maintained. Not even a dent could be seen on the damn thing.

By all means the weapon he held had always been ready. Waiting in fact, for the day Soichiro would mess up and stumble.

And for some reason? Soshiro had a feeling that day would be today.

It was their usual four round duel. An agreement between brothers who'd meet up every afternoon at the end of their respective classes for the weekday. Books packed hastily in an effort to rush home so that they could clash blades in the open spaces of their house's courtyard.

It had been a daily routine at this point.

Often, Soshiro would be the first to come home. Dropping his bag onto the floor of his bedroom and rushing to wear his hakama which had been prepped on the foot of his bed. And the moment he puts it on, he shows no hesitation when he grabs an appropriately sized bamboo blade that he kept nearest his closet.

Soichiro, who was the last to come, had always returned home with his little brother already waiting for him at their usual spot. Stance wide and ready to begin their matchup.

And although he often found his determination awe inspiring.

The older brother was far too aware of his own blood's presence. His eagerness to catch him off-guard had been made clear. Always at the ready in the case he'd make a mistake so that he could close the gap in skill between them.

And Soichiro. Who was as equally as cunning as he is. Had always been one step ahead, at the ready for any of Soshiro’s practiced attacks that even he knew could catch up to him at any moment.

Genius my ass. What's the point of being called that when your younger brother was so close to surpassing you? His progress in the blade is abnormally fast.

And to Soichiro. It was utterly terrifying.

“Yer too stiff ya’ little wimp. How do you expect to swing and hit me when that stance of yours is too rigid.” Soichiro pointed out. His chin pointed at the darker haired boy's much smaller feet. The boy hadn't even hit a growth spurt yet. And at this point he had been much taller than Soshiro's current height. His little brother barely reached the waistband of his Hakama giving him an ample advantage in build.

“Tryin’ something new. Now shut yer’ trap and let me hit ya!” Soshiro replied. The same serious look plastered on his face.

And such a challenge is met by his brother's own smirk. “Quite the yapper today aren't ya?” He laughs.

“-Fine. If you managed to hit me once, I'll let you go at me for another round. That ‘a deal?”

“Don't even need to ask.” Soshiro smirks. And with quick footwork, the boy had already reached his older brother's inner circle.

His steps were precise in the way he wasted no unnecessary limbs in his movement. In three short steps he had been faced to face with him. The tip of his bamboo sword already pointed at the very sky. Ready to strike him in the shoulder in an attempt to have him drop his own weapon. A technique he had done plenty of times to Soshiro before.

But the braided haired boy had been quicker. More experienced for his age. Foreseeing the minor tells his brother would exhibit when striking his sword down. And he wastes no time, pouncing to the side. Narrowly avoiding the heavy hand that had almost hit him on the jugular. Where he knows would've hurt.

It was done in quick succession. Soshiro didn't even have time to realize that his brother had turned on his heel. His blade held with one hand, had swept the ground to hit his very ankle. Effectively throwing him off balance. Making Soshiro yelp as he landed on his rear. Sword slipping from the tight grasp of his fingertips which had not grown enough to garner a steady grip yet.

And he could hear Soichiro’s obnoxious laughter echoing from in front of him. Slapping his leg to try and calm his breathless laughter.

“Whoops, nearly thought you had me there didn't ya?” He places his free hand over his stomach whilst he slung his sword over his shoulder. Trying not to pop a vein while laughing so hard.

And the jolly expression on his face alone had made Soshiro grit his teeth.

“Hah!? One more round and I'll make ya’ eat dirt you big bonehead.” Soshiro had replied. Already scampering about to grab his sword from the sidelines. Readying his stance for another round.

But a little known fact about Soichiro is that his interests never linger on him for too long. Only allowing the younger boy a total of four rounds per day. No more, no less. Had that number exceeded. He'd spare no glance and show disinterest on entertaining the boy no more. And his laughter soon dies down.

“Nope, No way! That's the fourth loss in a row. That's ‘bout enough for today Soshiro.” The older boy shook his head nonchalantly. Fixing up the loose strands of his braid as he turned to walk away. Uninterested now that the battle had ended quickly.

“You coward–One more round! I ain’t done with you yet!!” Soshiro yelled. But he sees the way his older brother was already kicking the wooden sandals off his feet. Walking back inside where the scorch of the afternoon sun would not hit him. And mock reply he'd refuse much louder than before.

“Nope.” His mouth popped.

“Them's the rules, I'm afraid.. Now I’m starvin, let's go grab a bite to eat.”

He sees the way Soichiro had not spared a second to look back. Immediately making a beeline to the Kitchen where he knew a few snacks would be waiting for them.

But unlike the eldest, Soshiro had stubbornly stomped behind his brother. Trying his best to keep up with the older boy who had much larger strides in his steps.

“That ain't fair, you said you'd give me five rounds today!”

“I said I'd give ya an extra round IF ya’ managed to hit me. And beggars can't be choosers here seeing as how not one of your attacks managed to graze me at all.”

“-Looks like you'll need more trainin’ ya little twerp.” His hand had reached to pat him on the head. But Soshiro had slapped it away before it could ruffle the tips of his hair.

“Quit callin me twerp ya Bonehead! I'm not the one who's running away–Come back here so I can kick yer’ sorry butt!” He chased after him. A common sight for the household who often saw the siblings bicker with one another.

But Soichiro was too fast. The pleasant smile on his face remained as he grabbed a rice ball nearest the counter. All the while effectively avoiding the smaller one's tackles.

It had been a few seconds more before Soshiro would give up in his pursuit. The sound or his grumbling stomach made Soichiro want to laugh. But he figured he could spare the poor boy the embarrassment of pointing that out.

Eventually, Soshiro stopped. Grabbing a rice ball of his own, he chooses to sit at the tatami nearest the windowsill of their home. And with much delight begins munching on the rice ball with a fuming look on his face.

He hadn't given up..he’s just a little hungry. That's all. He reminds himself.

“One of these days I'll beat ya’ on the first swing. Just you wait.” And that sentiment makes his older brother smile.

“That so?” Soichiro replied. Sitting beside the younger boy who had taken large bites from his own food. And unbeknownst to Soshiro, a smile appears on the corner of his older brother's lips.

“Well, guess I should buckle up and train too. Wouldn't want my wimpy little brother here to get ahead of me. Now do I?” The younger one couldn't help but roll his eyes. Clearly unamused that his brother had taken to scorn him again.

“Train with what? You're already plenty good at everything else. Yer’ just being mean.” Soichiro couldn't help but chuckle at his brother's small pout. Already grabbing him another rice ball to hand to him, as a form of apology. And Soshiro wastes no time to accept his offer. Enjoying the fresh grains of rice wrapped in that salty seaweed sheet. A singular pickled plum had peaked from within the blankets of warm grains.

“Sure. But I ain't about to slack off and give ya an easy-win.” Soichiro chuckles. Though for some reason, his voice had been far kinder than usual. “-Besides…”

Soshiro pauses, raising a brow at his older brother who had stared at the golden rays nearest the open window. And a strange expression was etched on his very face.

“I'm willin’ to bet that someday..yer’ gonna find someone who's gonna need you. With or without that blade of yours.”

And he raises his head to meet his older brother's strange smile.

It had been a selfish, childish desire for sure. One that disliked the idea of his younger brother overlapping him one day. The sheer dedication and progress he had been making was a far cry to his own. But those words, he meant sincerely. And whether Soshiro was aware of that, he was sure that one day he'd at least think back on it as simply words of mockery to discourage him.

And he did not bother to correct him.

…

It had been a few years since then. And for some reason those words stuck to Soshiro like a moth with a lamp.

It was uncharacteristic of Soichiro.

Even after he cut ties with his older brother. He had always found that sentiment of his, strange. The enigmatic Soichiro did not usually go out of his way to comfort him. Let alone aid him in his training. In fact, he distinctly remembers all the times the braided haired boy discouraging him each time they dueled. Demotivated him to stop in his endeavors.

It wasn't uncommon for his anger to boil when it came to Soichiro’s demeaning behavior. His words, often echoing on days where he’d fail to prove his worth to the defense force.

And although he knew Soichiro was only teasing him. His constant onslaught of berations had made him think he needed to improve upon his flaws even more. His words of mockery, a lingering thought on the back of his mind that would've normally made a person give up. Had only strengthened his resolve. And his actions only lead to even longer strides of hard work that only evolved each passing moment he'd swing his sword.

So why was it that those words of his didn't sound like mockery at all?

Had his brother meant it? When he told him he'd find someone who'd need him with or without the skill of his blade?

It had been almost an entire decade since he last saw his brother. Who had gone straight ahead and became a captain of his own division. And Soshiro had just about joined the defense force. Hoping to prove his worth.

But that was easier said than done.

It wasn't until Mina Ashiro had walked in. Scouting him directly from the Kansai District. Offering him a chance to join the Third Division and rise to the top to become her Vice Captain. But even then, it had still felt like a blow to his existence who had been fighting just to stay in the game.

“I need your abilities. Will you join my force, Hoshina?” Captain Ashiro of the Third Division had spoken. Unabashed upon his entrance to her office. It had been one of those rare instances where he got to visit the Tokyo District. And he wondered if the woman in front of him was being serious in her resolve.

“Me?” He gives a wry chuckle. “Not sure I follow Captain.”

“You're a blade specialist. Yes?”

“That's correct.” He spoke with a weary formality.

“We can't overlook the possibility of miniature-sized Kaiju cropping down the line.” The Captain had spoken with determination. And her eyes meet Soshiro's with much the same determination she had when she first offered him a place next to her.

“When I need to shoot a threat, can I trust that you'll clear a path for me?”

…

Soshiro was frozen on the spot.

He was practically unable to answer her. Too shocked at the mere possibility of being offered a need for his skill with the blade. He had been forced to carry a gun with him before, and that didn't end well. Yet here she was, seeking assistance in a blade specialist who had so often struggled to keep up with entire platoons who had wielded firearms instead of steel.

So why now? Why was it when he resolved to only use blades did Captain Ashiro of the Third Division scout him out? Modern Kaiju of this day and age were large. Gigantic with plated shells that even firearms had struggled to pierce through. What good would a sword do in that situation?

And yet even then, he thought about it.

The possibility of fighting his way in the midst of soldiers who carried firearms and freezing rounds. The sheer thought of rushing forward and slicing Kaiju with the perfected combat abilities he had been polishing way before he had resolved to join the Defense Force.

But before he could resolve to make an answer, the door had opened. And you had entered the fray.

“Him? Well I suppose this isn't the first time the Third's willing to recruit strange people.”

Strange?

Soshiro had looked to the side. Catching a glimpse at your figure as you slowly closed the door behind you. Hands shoved to the front pocket of your lab coat as you walked right next to him. Saluting towards Captain Ashiro to formally greet her upon meeting her gaze.

“Captain.” You addressed. Right beside Soshiro. And you could feel his stares poking through your sides.

“At ease.” The Captain looks back towards him. “Officer Hoshina. This here, is the Third's Lead Technician. She's a weapons specialist and will be here to provide your support should you choose to join our division.”

The sweet smile on your face had not faltered. Taking you back to a relaxed stance as you came face to face with Soshiro’s own scrutiny. His raised eyebrow had been an indication of his hesitancy towards you.

Your eyes had made contact with his. And although squinted, you could see the glimpse of his wine colored eyes. Observing you thoroughly from head to toe.

You weren't exactly sure what was running in his thoughts at the moment. But his skepticism was met by a similar opinion of your own. Not entirely sure if he was as good as Captain Ashiro praised him to be. Though you had to admit, he was at least somewhat nice on the eye.

“I heard about you.” He tilts his head. Fox-like in his gaze. And a smile had stretched amusingly on the corners of your lips.

“Oh? Good things I hope?” He looked unbothered. Though in a sense that his kindness was only a front that he had all but gotten used to in hiding. Likely from your comment from earlier. And you had an inkling that he had a few things to say of his own. Sly in the way he'll word it.

”I suppose..” His reply was curt.

“Heard yer’ one of the few technicians that actually make Specialized Bioweapons, that about right?”

You nod. “Only for the strange ones.”

“-Ones that can't conform to the normalcy of standard firearms. Much like you, it seems.”

This makes Soshiro’s lips quirk. Suddenly very aware that your statement had been a jab of sorts. One he had gotten used to from his own division. And such a challenge was directly and expertly countered back in tandem.

“Well yer’ not so normal yourself ya’ know?” His accent had been made much clearer. And your eyebrows raise. Slightly irate in the way he jabbed at you. Though you let him continue, just to see if he could keep up with his own feist.

“-Heard you were the Technician that was kicked out for bein’ so stubborn to work with.”

And you had to hold back a wry chuckle. It seems his smile had a few sharp claws to fight back with. “So you've heard.”

“-But I suppose you too are used to that very sentiment, yes?” Your words seem to make that easy smile of his falter slightly. It was a miniscule comment, but judging by the way he had remained silent. The tension of the room grew weary as the two sparked a similar glare for each other. And although he found the situation slightly amusing, his displeased conversation had definitely soured his thoughts of joining.

Maybe the Third Division wasn't the place for him either.

What were the chances he'd have a different point of view should he switch divisions now? Your existence proved the very mockery his brother had implied. His Father who was normally supportive had not praised him for wanting to join the Defense Force when all he had was his skill in the blade. And the thought alone is enough to convince him otherwise.

Captain Ashiro's offer had been tantalizing, but not definite. And he has half a mind to excuse himself before things could escalate.

But as luck would have it. Captain Ashiro had been observant. Her intentions were never to have them be at odds with one another. And she clears her throat in the hopes she could ease the tension in the room slightly.

Administering as the only superior officer in the room. Who needed to take much responsibility.

“Sleep on it, Hoshina. We could use a close combat specialist like you out there.”

And whether or not she meant that. There hadn't been much time before an alert went off. A pin placed on his thoughts as he had found himself participating with the Third's mission to exterminate acid spitting Kaiju on the eastern side of the Kanto region.

…

Despite his hesitance. The thought of it still remained. And as if magnetized, he found himself willingly transfering to the Third Division. Somehow surviving a Kaiju attack that he had helped fend off with Captain Ashiro's help.

His sword. One he brought with him from back home. Had all been melted to the hilt. Its black steel had an unnatural wave of color on it. A result of his reckless actions when he remembered having to cut through the insides of a Kaiju's mouth. Saving both himself and a child from being devoured and melted.

Had Captain Ashiro and Okonogi; the Third's Lead Operations gal. Not hac impeccable timing, he was sure he would've been dead meat by now. And yet here he was, alive coupled with only a few bruises on his sore body.

After a few days, he had recovered fairly well since then. Deployed from the hospital after a back and forth discussion between the Tokyo and Kansai district. And he had finally gotten permission for his official transfer. h

His things were readily packed as he made his way to the bunkers of Tachikawa's base.

And just as he had stared at the broken blade, he had debated on whether or not he should've just thrown it out to get a new one.

It took ages to convince the Kansai district to forge him a blade. Steel that could withstand the strength of Kaiju skin. Or have a high enough melting point so that the acidic burns of its saliva and stomach were not affected by it. But that type of material was hard to come by. Let alone, he doubts command would grant him access to such weaponry when he had done nothing to prove his usefulness.

So even then, when he had been given the minimum necessity, he had been careful in its uses. Unsure whether or not his platoon leader would allow him to be given a replacement blade when he had so little opportunity to showcase his skill infield.

He’d likely have to ask Platoon Leader Ebina for a replacement. He had so few extra blades to spare. But the Third had at least been kinder to him than his last division. Surely they'd grant him better access to the weaponry of his choice, right?

Though just as he loathed the thought. His footsteps halted.

And in the middle of the empty hallways, nearest the corner where the sleeping quarters should be. Your eyes had met with his once more. The first time in a while since your encounter in the confines of Captain Ashiro's office.

“It's you.” You had spoken.

Suddenly aware that he had been staring at the broken blade in his hand. Unfazed by the heavy duffle bag he had carried with his other arm. The sudden softness of your voice had been unexpected to say the least. Given the last animosity you both displayed towards each other.

You walked closer to inspect the melted steel. Having already heard the report from Captain Ashiro’s latest mission. And for a moment, he feels as if you had looked almost displeased at the weapon. Guilty for having assumed the worst of him. “Looks like the acid's melted it down. I assume you have a spare?”

He nods. Sheathing the broken shortsword back in its holster. Making it look like it hadn't been broken at all. “That's right. Though I ain’t excited that I'm gonna hafta' throw another one out.”

This makes you smile. And his eyes had widened ever so slightly at the sight of your pretty teeth

So that's what you looked like when you smiled.

“Figures. It isn't very common for people to use steel against Kaiju nowadays. Let alone swords.” You spoke slowly. And this time, you see the way his mouth visibly frowns. A stark contrast to that usual unbothered smile of his when you had first met him.

“Well I ‘spose I'm not your common folk.” He spoke tight-lipped. And you cringe inwardly at your thoughtless words.

You hadn't meant that. A force of bad habit it seems. One that came from a place of wanting to help.

A soldier’s life, especially one that dealt with monstrous Kaiju, had always tipped the balance between life and death. And you had thought it reckless to see him remain stubborn when you first heard your Captain praise Soshiro's skill in the blade. Your impression on him, had made you think he was a reckless fool who did not value his life. At least not enough to learn how to handle firearms.

Though now, after having witnessed his actions through Okonogi and a few key witnesses from that day. You knew that you had been wrong in your assumptions. Planning to make amends the only way you knew how.

Your place as a Technician who could only fight through the weapons you made. One that you hoped would help people survive. Even for just a minute longer, just to make a difference.

“I didn't-” Your words were cut short. Not entirely sure why your voice had cut from the tip of your tongue. So instead you move closer grabbing the hilt of his blade from his fingertips. And that alone makes Soshiro tilt his head in confusion. “Here, let me have a look.”

And he watches you admire the weight and feel of the weapon. Staring at the black leather hilt that he had so often found himself gripping. Enough to cause a few dents in the area. Only further proving his dedication to his craft. But he did not understand your actions. Far too vague in deciphering you when he barely knew much to tell if your actions had been one of curiosity or just sheer brazenness.

“Do you…have something against me? Or is there somethin’ I’m missing here?" He blurts out. Unsure if your earlier comments were made from a place of ignorance or as a way to insult his way of fighting.

And your eyes had so easily pried from the blade and back to his face. Surprised that the relaxed persona of his had momentarily disappeared.

And for a second, you felt the weight of added guilt in the way you had addressed him earlier.“Against you? No, I-”

You sigh. “Not really. If anything I'm interested in you.” Managing to blurt out, almost frowning at the way you stumbled to admit that. Somehow that had been hard to say in front of his face.

“That so?” He tilts his head with a smile. “And here I was, under the impression that you hated my guts.”

You had half a mind to roll your eyes. Make another comment that might've irked his feathers for a bit. But you stopped yourself. Finding the smile on his face much more pleasant than you had imagined. A far cry from the masked practiced one he had adorned when you first met him with. And this time, you had made an effort to be more sincere.

“You've gained my trust.” You simply spoke. This time in a much more pleasant tone than you had anticipated. “I was wrong. I misjudged your confidence for stupidity.”

His eyes had trained over each other. And silence swept over them before you spoke hesitantly once more.

“I thought you were unwilling to adapt to change. But I see now you are much more careful than I anticipated.” Your admission makes him look away momentarily. Suddenly unused to such sincerity after their last meeting.

“Your skill in the blade is impeccable. And instead of being stupid, I'll replace your weapon for you.”

He raises his brow. Not entirely sure what you were getting at until you held the weighted blade with one hand. Unused to the way you had spoken softly this time. Almost apologetic even.

“You mean replace my weapon of choice?” He had assumed as much. Maybe you’d hand him a gun and see just how terrible he'd be at it. But you had almost smacked yourself on the head for wording things so vaguely.

“No.” Your reply was immediate. Making it clear that you had not meant to insult his skill in swordsmanship. That much was for sure. And maybe that had been the first spark that finally got through the both of you. That you had not meant to offend each other. Not this time.

“I meant–the material your weapon is made out of. It's barely functional, let alone made for slicing thick-skinned Kaiju. I didn't mean too.. yeah.”

Your words had caught his throat dry. And Somehow the awkwardness you had displayed had made him chuckle in response. Amused in the way you too, had stumbled in your words when you had so confidently spoken to him last time. He wonders if you were even the same person who'd responded with the feist he had experienced first-hand. Jabs and all.

Normally conversations like these would lead to persuasion. A simple comment to get him to use other weapons. To give up on his hard work with the blade.

By all means, he was used to the impracticality of his craft.

He was good with the blade. A prodigy some would call him. But his weapon of choice had not been suited for practical use. Often delegated as a Martial Arts technique, required to join the Defense Force as a form of experience.

But it seems he had forgotten who he was talking to.

For you had not been a very practical person either. A technician who made specialized weapons for the odd who would not dare conform to the standard way of fighting a modern Kaiju. And this time, he understood the words you had struggled to say out loud. Your apologies were clear, and you wanted to help. Even if you did look adorably helpless in trying to offer that option to him. “So, what I'm getting at is that, yer’ offering to help me. Yeah?”

“Yeah. Cause I have no idea how you survived for this long with such a flimsy weapon.”

“‘Scuse me?” He couldn't help but laugh a little more. Finding your bluntness a charm. Your aura had been quite different from his initial assumptions. And it seems you were just a bold individual who was unafraid of speaking the truth if need be.

And the thought alone made him smile. Much more genuine in the way he realized he'd be faced with.

“Normally people just tell me that I'm bein’ stubborn by sticking to the front lines. But never that..” He chortled again. Finding the amusement almost breathtaking to stand upright.

And the sound of his laughter had been similar to the pretty bells you once heard during the peak hours of a windchimes's ring. Nice and genuinely pretty.

If he had laughed like that everyday, it might make things a little harder for you to deal with. But you ignore the quick pace in your heart strings. Rolling your eyes as if nothing changed in your demeanor.

“Oh please. I've seen it from the Operations Room. You're more than capable. But the weapons they've given you are…subpar to say the least.”

“-If you actually want to do more, you're gonna need a stronger steel base than this.” You had flicked your finger against the holster of the blade. And the sound of contact had echoed to his ear. And suddenly he is all too aware of that soft smile plastered on your face.

A confidence brimming in you that told him all he needed to know. A thought that you'd help him. To stick by his side and pave a way for him. Starting with a better weapon.

“And I can help you. If you let me.”

“Oh. So you're offering to fix my blade for me?”

“Even better. I'm offering you specialized blades. Ones that won't break so easily.” You beamed. And the sight of your eagerness had made him almost giddy. It almost sounded like a pipe dream in the way you had offered no hesitance in supporting him. It was a breath of fresh air amidst the many who had given up on him.

“Though of course, you'd have to rise through the ranks. Command will only authorize special made weapons for the strongest Officers after all.”

“Like Captain Ashiro?” He had spoken out of turn. A tilt on his head at the memory of her rather peculiar specialty. “I assume you'd want someone who can dish out firepower as strong as hers.”

It was no secret that the Captain of the Third Division had an unusual affinity for firearms. Her large weapon was akin to a cannon, fit to destroy larger than life Kaiju should they appear before them. But you had all but shook your head at his comment. Already one step ahead to stop his doubts from formulating. And somehow, despite the difficulty in reading him. You found yourself able to at least grasp a feeling of his inferiority. One that had been beaten down on his very body that had made you feel guilty at the words he endured.

The very same words you've mocked him with.

“No. The rest of the command can have Mina Ashiro for all I care. It's you I want.” You pointed to him. your finger squarely on his chest. And he hopes you couldn't feel the vapid way his heart was hammering upon its contact with the fabric of his standard uniform jacket. Eyes fixated at your determination and unexpected confidence in him.

“But why? Wouldn't ya’ prefer someone more capable in both long and close range weapons?”

“Like who?” You had inquired. And suddenly his thoughts shift to that amazing but annoying recruit he's encountered during his entry exams. One that he had formed a small rivalry with since they had entered the force right around the same time.

“Maybe someone like Gen Narumi?” He shrugs. Though you could tell he was hesitant in his choice of words. Which makes you chuckle. “The soldier who requested a ridiculously large bayonet? No.”

Somehow that made Soshiro visibly relaxed.

“He’s good but there's nothing I can do that can help him further. But you on the other hand?”

He raises his brows. Seeing the way you tilt your head forward towards him. And his breath is caught on his lungs, unencumbered in the way you speak your mind openly and in confidence towards him. Comparison did not exist in your mind. And from the look on your eyes, there had not been an edge of doubt in the way you responded almost immediately to his doubts.

“I'd be a pretty bad Technician if I didn't see your uses beyond that sword of yours.”

“So ya need me?” He spoke incredulously. And although it embarrasses you, you give him a curt nod. That makes a chuckle escape from his lips. “And suddenly I'm beginin’ to feel special since I joined the Third Division.”

“Well, it's true. The rest may not be able to see it. But I know it.” You paused. Looking at him in sincerity. One that he was not used to seeing. And he flinches upon your hand grabbing his own. Feeling the way his skin had rich blisters that had been replaced with heavy calluses over the time he spent training.

“You'll save more lives than I can count, and the only way you'll do that is if you're given a proper blade.”

“-Created by yours truly of course.” You let go of his hand. Hopefully he hadn't noticed the red tint on your cheeks as you looked away. And his laugh is the first thing you hear that makes you want to admire his pretty face.

“Yer crazy..” He shook his head.

Though more of a vapid insult. The smile remaining on his pretty lips had indicated it was done on jest. And for a moment, you were suddenly all too aware of how husky his voice had been, or how much taller he had shadowed over you. Or how much better he looked when he smiled.

And you find yourself taking a few steps back. The broken blade already slotted on your shoulder. Ready to take it to your lab and get a head start on designing a suitable prototype for him.

“So I've heard. But the Third Division is already full of that, don't you think?” And he couldn't help but nod. Watching the way you had slowly walked passed him. Already unused to the given space you had provided. For a moment, he wished you had held his hand longer. It had made him miss the warmth of your closeness from earlier.

“I suppose so. It's a lot different from the Kansai district, I'll give ya’ that.” He turned. Watching as you retreated slowly. And with a single glance, you had all but piqued the very last of his interest.

Suddenly, it was like getting caught on a hook. And he’s afraid he'd be seeking you out everyday. If he can help it.

If you’d allow it.

“If they couldn't make you shine then I'll make sure to pave that way for you. No kaiju is gonna break that sword of yours.” You turn around. Already taking a step forward. Hiding your pink face from his sight. Which he was admiring rather languidly had you not turned your head.

“You have my word.” You had finished off. And before he could even reply, Soshiro was left in the empty hallways of Tachikawa base.

The sudden absence made him slacken, who had gotten so used to your comforting presence. But in spite of his disappointment, he somehow found himself smiling on his own.

It sure is strange hearing someone say that to him.

Mina Ashiro may have been the first to ask of him. To request an offer for his help in the field. His assistance would prove helpful in the face of her attacks, which was made for long ranged weaponry. And he had finally gotten a chance to prove his worth to the defense force. By means of paving a path to slay the Kaiju that got in her way.

But you had been the first to offer that yourself. To pave a path for HIM should any Kaiju get in HIS way.

You offered him a chance to shine.

And he'd be damned if he doesn't reach that expectation of yours.

The one who had challenged him to go beyond a greater height than he had ever envisioned himself climbing. To be needed.

It wasn't after half a month later had he come back boasting the highest melee kill count from small to midsize threats of Kaiju. His actions ebbing a spark in the third's outlook on Bladed users. Inspiring a few onslaught of officers to join a few joint training sessions held swordsmanship. The Kendo match between districts has become a much more popular feat than before.

Now, learning the blade wasn't a simple formality anymore. It had been another path forward. And although only a fool would continue to wield a blade instead of the practicality of long ranged weaponry. Hoshina Soshiro had been that very same fool. He who pushed forward like a madman and insisted on using his signature shorthanded blades, despite the odds stacked against him

And Mina Ashiro had placed a great deal of faith in him. Enough to promote him to a platoon leader. And eventually a Vice Captain of the third Division.

And your eyes had never lingered elsewhere in his pursuit.

Often following his line of sight when you'd seen him train on the very confines of the training room. And even now, you had stared directly at him. Unable to look away.

Not when he had entered your lab with the unusual formality of his standard uniform. His star studded pin hooked on the left side of his jacket's chest. An insignia that had been a symbol of his inauguration as the new Vice Captain of Third Division's upper ranks. His title attained by the mere fraction of his efforts and hardwork.

And you dare not face him with such petty grievances like you had in the past. A smile etched on your pretty lips as you greeted him in a mock salute. As if to tell him you had been expecting this day to come.

“Took you a while, Vice Captain. I almost thought you'd given up on me.” Your joke had made him let out a chuckle. Closing the door behind him as he walked up to your place nearest the desk.

“And miss out on yer’ startled face? Never.” He had spoken more informally than you had imagined. Which made you drop the mock salute you had given him. Rolling your eyes as you moved to stand. Heading to the next desk over as he followed you suit.

“I think you're the one that should be startled.” You had hinted with a giddy giggle.

The correction made Soshiro tilt his head. A sort of curiosity washing over him. And you watch as he closes the gap between his and the proximity of your bubble. Braving to graze his shoulders against you as he crosses your side. Eyes magnetized in the way it had seen your pretty smile. “Oh. Didya' have a surprise for me? Didn't peg you as someone who gave gifts often.”

And you lean forward, nearest his chest. As if to whisper your little secret that you've been meaning to show him for a while now. “In case you forgot, let me remind you.”

Upon landing his gaze on the small glass case on the desk, you had moved your hands to slowly remove the top cover. Revealing the two refined swords around the same length of his arms.

The outer casing, its holster. Was tinted purple like his dark hair. The hints of military green had no doubt matched that of their Combat Suit's design. And it veered to life the moment his eyes fell upon the familiar insignia of the Third Division's logo atop of its hilt. A sign that this weapon had been his.

Well at least, he assumed as much. Judging from the proud and almost excited look on your face. “I finished your swords.” You spoke factually. “Just need your verdict on the matter.”

His eyes had widened. This had been a stark difference from his previous blade. The way it was made was measured perfectly to the length of his arms. The sword bent in a grip for just the way he preferred it to. And its tip? The one where a pivot was placed had been an indication that it was designed so that he could connect the two blades. Form it into one long sword, if he truly wished to.

That alone was an indication that this was likely not a normal melee. Made of simple bronze or steel.

No.

This was a bioweapon. Made from Kiaju to kill Kaiju. One that was only granted to the strongest in the Force. One that had been ready for his use. Built in custom to his preferences. And their eyes met, only confirming his suspicions when she had given him an awkward shrug of her shoulders. Acting as if invisible ink had occupied the space between their feet.

“I said I'd make you a weapon that won't break easily, didn't I?” In an instant, a hot flush billowed in his cheeks. Much the same when your normally hidden shyness had finally resurfaced.

The rare times it did, he couldn't help but stare. Far too enraptured in the gap that had swung between your feist and your awkward responses. And he nods in turn. Suddenly aware that you had been doing such a task so diligently to perfection. “I don't know what to say. I didn't think you'd actually make it.”

You hear him chuckle. And your shoulder had pushed him forward. Towards the weaponry you had made for him.“Go on, it's not like anybody else can use it.”

Soshiro had looked at you, hesitant in the way you had so readily offered him such a gift. Your words had been proven in the way your assurances hit his heart. And his hand had a mind of its own as it grabbed the hilt of the blade. Sliding its cover right off so he'd have a chance to see the refined structure of the thinly cut mass of iron.

One he had been accustomed to weilding since he had been born.

Though instead. He was met with the dark shade of a similar material. Stronger than Iron, nor any steel for that matter. It was a blade far too distinct to forget. Luminous in orange hues as if it burned with the same heat that had allowed him to move in the enhancement of his suit.

And it had been clear this weapon was far stronger than the rest of his blade. Bound to cut a Kaiju's outer shell much easier than his previous ones would let him.

And the light one that breathed with an eery calm had reflected his own wine red eyes on the blade. The very movement caused a sound cutting through air when he'd expertly move it with his fingertips.

A sight of which had glued your eyes onto him. Finding his stupor rather mesmerizing than usual. His concentration had not been a rare sight for you, especially when you had caught glimpses of the many nights he'd spend alone in the training room.

But being this close. Seeing the joy nipping at his face. Somehow it makes your heart flutter strangely. And you had to shake your head to snap yourself out of admiration for the man. Suddenly focusing your attention back to blade one which vyed for his approval.

“So, do you like it?”

Soshiro had hummed. The usual grin on his lips remained unphased despite the giddiness in his chest. “Mmm...I ‘spose it's subpar at best.”

“Excuse me? Rude.” He laughs at your comment. And he puts the blade back in its holder. Already placing it on the back of his waist, right where it belonged.

“I'm kidding.” He spoke immediately after. A laugh bellowing from his abs. Though your scrunched nose had made it difficult for you to believe his immediate reply.

“No, I'm serious. You've outdone yourself sweetheart. Never seen a sword this sharp before..” He looks you over, admiring the easy smile on your face. That and the nickname seems to have made your cheeks flare up in surprise.

And he had to remind himself to engrave that very image of you on the back of his mind. Fearing that he may never get to see such a sight again.

“Well say that first! It's kind of difficult reading your facial expressions, you know?” You huffed. Though the easy laughter of his had remained. And a smile soon replaces your hefty frown.

“Sorry, sorry. Is there a price I hafta pay ya’? You know, for making me such a nice weapon and all that.”

You shrug, scooting your way right in front of him where he could just as easily close the gap between the two of you.

Have your chest pressed up against his, hand gripping the plush of your lower back. Admiring the gentle way you'd likely stare up at him with flamed cheeks. But he stops, already feeling too guilty to indulge himself further. And your reply had been quick enough to distract him from any incoming thoughts that had pushed his mind to try and get closer to you.

“Only your help, when it comes to a few suit upgrades.”

Help huh? He supposes this would be a good excuse to go see you more often. Though the simplicity of such a task was a little more suspicious on your part. And he had an inkling you had a few things in mind that involved more than just that.

But then again. He couldn't exactly read you either. Not completely at least.

Not yet.

“Quite demanding, aren't we?” He nods.

You had rolled your eyes at his teasing.

“You're the one that offered. But fine, be like that.” You had crossed your arms. Already backing away, and you had felt the way he had firmly pulled you back. Hand against your elbow. Making you face him whilst he tilted his head in your direction.

“Now, now..I never said anything about refusing you didn't I?” He chuckles. And the deep rumble makes your stomach churn in small caterpillars. Ready to form butterflies should he continue.

“Wasn't that already implied?” You spoke. Aware of the way his palms had steadied you by the elbows. The hint of warmth against his skin was almost tantalizing to make you lean forward. But before you had the chance to, he let you go. Leaving only an inch of space between the both of you.

“Shh..” His finger had raised itself against your lips. Shushing you before you could make another smart quip at him that was sure to insight another bout of witty banter. One that he knew he'd grown accustomed to in the future.

“I was just messing with ya'” He laughs. Only confirming that he had been hooked indefinitely by you. And he moves his free hand to tug your hair behind your ear.

“Do you, or do you not want to help me?” You had asked incredulously. Already finding his musings rather annoying. But the way he looked at you had your breath caught in your throat.

His gaze, although clouded by the silent promise to himself. Had not seen the way you too had a similar look on your face. And whether or not you had been aware of this promise. It doesn't fail to make your heart pick up its pace. His voice was almost reminiscent of prayer when he spoke your name in a whisper.

“I do want to help.” He spoke slowly. And your eyes flutter closed wondering if his touch would linger for a bit longer. But his fingertips remained curt. Pulling back just as soon as it grazed your skin.

“And how do I know you're being serious?”

“All ya’ have to do is call me. And I’ll Certainly be Yours, if you want me to.”

And he meant it. He was sincere in his intention to get close to you. To help you like you had sworn to him. Use his skill to protect you, should you ever need it.

And somehow, he is reminded of the time his brother had spoken to him long ago. Back when they were kids, dueling with simple bamboo swords back in the peace of their own home. Eating those childhood rice balls in the afterhours of their respective schools.

Soichiro be damned. Because somehow he was correct in his predictions. His words were every bit of a mockery to his craft. And although it was a rare sight to have him be soft in his presence.

Somehow, that was the one time he did so dissolutely.

And now, it looks like he's found someone who needs him. With or without that blade of his.

And this time, there was genuinely no sense of mockery in the way he had met you.

He only hoped he wasn't too late.

[peachhcs]

can we get some samy and jack time? I feel like their dynamic would be fun!

mini golfing the anger away

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

jack takes samy out on an adventure to help her get over the breakup

here’s some requested samy & jack dynamic as he helps samy through the breakup in an attempt to lift her spirits. i don’t know how many words this is but it’s around the same as my other fics:)

au masterlist

there was one loud knock on samy’s door before it flung open without a chance for her to ask who it was. jack’s mop of brown hair peaked its way through as the younger girl raised her eyebrow in confusion.

“good you’re up,” the boy hummed.

“what do you want?” samy huffed, a bit annoyed that jack just bursted in without much explanation.

“we’re going for a little adventure because you’ve been stuck inside all day and i think you need fresh air to clear your mind,” jack determined like he had everything planned out already and he did.

“i don’t need fresh air. i’m wallowing in self-pity,” the girl groaned, pulling her blankets further up her body like they’d hide her.

jack shuffled to the bed until he sat down on the edge of it and pulled the blankets back down much to his sister’s dismay. “look, i know you’ve been going through a lot with the breakup and everything. i just wanna brighten your mood a bit and hang out with you because i feel like we haven’t hung out one on one in awhile,” the older boy softened his tone out.

“you and me hanging out results in things we shouldn’t be doing 99% of the time,” samy deadpanned.

“doesn’t that make it more fun though?” jack smirked.

the girl knew her brother wasn’t taking no for an answer, so with a long sigh, she sat up and pushed the blankets down completely.

“okay, fine. can you give me like fifteen minutes and i’ll meet you downstairs?” with that, jack beamed and nodded.

“no later than fifteen!” samy rolled her eyes a bit as her brother quickly disappeared from her room, but the small smile on her lips said otherwise.

—

fifteen minutes later on the dot, samy trailed down the stairs dressed in better outfit that wasn’t a t-shirt and sweatpants. jack was in the kitchen scrolling through his phone when the girl found him.

“okay, i’m ready,” she poked his shoulder.

“ow, that’s my bad shoulder,” the older boy pulled away making samy laugh.

she followed him out of the house and to his car. because jack planned the outing, he let samy have aux.

“are you gonna tell me what we’re doing?” the girl asked as they rolled out of the driveway.

“it wouldn’t be a surprise if i told you,” jack said in a “duh” tone. that made the brunette roll her eyes, but she didn’t say anything else.

the siblings let the soft music fill the car’s silence as jack drove through the familiar roads of ann arbor, michigan. everything they passed reminded samy of a memory with will when they were little which was a bit bittersweet now.

“remember when you and luke got stranded in the lowe’s parking lot?” jack snapped the girl from her thoughts. her gaze bounced to the big department store they flew past and a smile inched its way to her lips.

“god, that felt like a nightmare. we were so scared,” samy laughed.

“mom was freaking out when she realized she left you guys behind. i don’t think i’ve ever seen her that crazy. she swerved around on all of these roads,” jack laughed too.

“i’m pretty sure i cried the entire time until i saw mom,” the younger brunette grinned.

“you were always such a cry baby,” the older boy teased making samy pinch his arm.

“shut up, you were too. quinn’s the worst one out of all of us though,” for being the oldest, quinn sure was a mama’s boy when he was little.

after another ten minutes, jack pulled into a small gravel drive while samy’s eyes lit up a bit when she realized where they were.

“we’re going mini golfing?” the girl wondered as the sign in front of them read “annie’s putt putt and ice cream” — a staple of the hughes’ kids childhood.

“i thought you could use a pick me up, so why not reminisce on how competitive we all got with one another,” the boy smiled widely as he climbed out of the car leaving samy no other choice but to follow him.

jack quickly paid, handing samy her signature pink putter and ball. quinn always took dibs on green, jack got blue, leaving luke stuck with orange. he complained every time.

“i can’t believe we’re doing this. i haven’t done this in years,” samy hummed as she walked towards the first hole.

“this is gonna be fun. a little bonding between us,” jack nudged her arm and samy couldn’t help but agree.

she missed hanging out with jack because he always seemed to have something else going on. plus, this would get her mind off of things for at least an hour.

“whoever wins buys the other ice cream,” the older hughes sibling determined as he set his ball up first.

“i hope you’re ready to pay for my ice cream then,” the girl grinned widely making her brother roll his eyes.

jack took his first swing marking the beginning of the very fierce competition. if there was one thing about the four siblings, it was that they were very competitive with one another. whether it be pool, wakeboarding off the boat, or simply seeing who could chug the most water in a minute, the four were always going at it over the summer. mini golf always got them going which was why the family hardly went with all of them anymore because of how heated it got.

one year, quinn pushed luke over one of the obstacles making the poor kid sprain his ankle. after that, going to mini golf was banned in the hughes household.

by the fourth hole, samy was close behind jack in strokes. the two carefully followed jack’s ball down the path where it landed five inches away from the hole.

“that was rigged!” jack exclaimed in annoyance.

“ha! if i get this in, i’m ahead of you!” samy exclaimed, going into position for her next putt.

jack held his breath as he watched samy’s ball roll right past his directly into the hole. the younger girl cheered while jack stomped away like a little kid.

“i’m winning! you have more strokes than me now!”

“you’re just cheating,” the older boy rolled his eyes.

“i am not! you literally watched that go in!” the younger brunette pushed jack to go take his last putt for the hole.

the two moved through the rest of the holes fairly quickly. by the ninth hole, samy was significantly in the lead and was most definitely gonna win.

“better get your wallet out, jack,” she winked before taking the putt.

her pink ball traveled through the windmills and around the hill as the siblings followed it down the path. it came out the other side of the cave just an inch away from the hole.

“shit! so close to a hole in one,” samy frowned, tapping the ball in.

“do i even need to putt?” jack huffed.

“be a team player,” the girl giggled, pushing her brother back to the start.

jack lined his putt up with the ball, going in for a swing. his blue ball took the same path as samy’s through the windmills, around the hill, and through the cave except his landed directly into the hole for a hole in one.

“holy shit! hole in one!” the boy jumped up and down in excitement.

“hey, good play,” samy clapped for him.

“you know, i’ll take that as the end. i may have not won, but at least i got a hole in one,” jack grinned as the two went back to the counter.

“good game. that was fun,” samy hummed as she set her putter and ball into the basket.

“i’m glad you had fun. that was my goal,” the older boy smiled and made his way to the ice cream stand.

jack got his usual of soft chocolate and vanilla while samy stuck with her strawberry in a dish. the two found a quiet spot at one of the farther tables away from the smaller kids running around.

“are you glad i dragged you out of bed now?” jack wondered.

“you know, yeah, i am. thank you. this was really fun. i felt like i was a kid again,” samy smiled some.

“we hate seeing you sad, so i figured some mini golf wouldn’t hurt. mom only agreed if it was only us though,” that made the two laugh.

“it’d be a shit show if we were all here,” the younger girl giggled.

“exactly. luke wouldn’t have survived again.”

a comfortable silence fell over the siblings. it was rare for samy and jack to be in silence without one another bickering about something stupid and quinn needing to mediate, so they took advantage of it.

“i got broken up with once when i was 16. do you remember that?” jack broke the silence. samy raised her eyebrow and shook her head.

“i guess maybe not. you were..probably 12. anyway, this girl i dated for a bit broke up with me before i started dev program. it actually really hurt,” the older boy’s gaze fell away from his sister’s as he thought about the memory.

“i’m sorry. that sucks,” the girl sympathized.

“yeah, it did suck. breakups suck in general. i’m sorry you’re going through one.”

samy shrugged some, “it’s fine, i guess. he made that choice and..it’s whatever.”

“he’s an asshole,” jack determined making samy snort.

“i think you, quinn, and luke think the same thing. it’s so weird because..i..i wanna be mad at him and i am. i’m really hurt, but also..i’m not if that makes sense? like i don’t think i could ever be mad at will no matter what,” the younger brunette met jack’s gaze again.

“i get it. he was your best friend. it’s hard to..be mad at people like that. i dunno..maybe time will change things? like..you guys just need some time apart?” the older boy shrugged.

“yeah, maybe. i don’t know. like i hate him, but i don’t. i love him, but i don’t. it’s confusing me,” samy sighed.

“give it like a month and see how you feel. the breakup’s still really fresh so the feelings you’re having may be different from the normal ones you have on a normal basis. let it kind of..sit with you and then reassess i’d say.”

“yeah, that makes sense. i just feel weird showing and feeling the emotion because growing up with you guys makes me not wanna do any of that,” the girl laughed a bit.

“hey, we’re always here for you to talk or anything. i mean you say the word and we’ll go knock on his door. i think luke really wants to,” the two shared a laugh.

“thanks, i appreciate it. you guys have been really good to me,” samy grinned.

“it’s what older brothers are for,” jack poked his sister’s arm making her squirm away from him.

the two finished up their ice cream before heading back to the car. samy’s head felt a bit lighter on the way back thanks to jack’s outing. she’d really have to thank her brothers one day for getting her through this because she’d probably be unable to move from her bed if it weren’t for them.

[writingroom21]

Seeing the ghost face reader just inspired me with something. Imagine shy introverted reader (she's like fluttershy if you watched my little pony) nerdy pouge reader where she is sarah’s bestie who has a massive crush on rafe but doesn't show it but when he starts saying something really bad to Sarah (I don't know what) reader loses it inside since she can't show it so later that night she secretly goes to race room quietly while he's asleep wakes him up by slapping his face hard (he wont mind since he's always found reader hot) reader is secretly a dom as they have hardcore sex

Like A Virgin

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex(wrap it up), cream pie, overstimulation, chocking, oral (m receiving), (let me know if I missed any)

Wc: 3.2K

A/N: I'm loving all the requests I've been getting! Keep them coming! I'm getting through them as fast as I can, so sorry if it take a while. I also just started my new job so I have to figure out a writing schedule. So please bare with me, I will get to them

“What the fuck Rafe! Why do you always have to start something? He’s my boyfriend, he can be here.” Sarah’s voice echoes through the halls.You had just walked through the back door to get a drink. She had invited the pogues over for a pool day, you’ve all been outside all day. From the moment you had gotten there you could tell something was off.

Sarah was tense and a little short, apologizing straight after and blaming it on being tired. You would believe her if it wasn’t for the dark looming shadow that was Rafe Cameron. He was lurking around, making sly comments, objectifying your’s and Kie’s body. He knew better than to try with Cleo, she would kill him in his sleep in a heartbeat. There was definitely something going on because even if he normally is a dick, he would have quit by now.

You’ve been Sarah’s friend for ages, the only person she never actually tried to push away. It was shocking for everyone because she’s always been out going while you kept to yourself. Instead of making friends you were reading not wanting to be bothered by the other kids. Then one day Sarah came up to you and forced you out of your shell.From then on the two of you were attached by the hip, always together. She never onced judged you for being a pogue even when all her kook friends made fun of you.

They saw you as an easy target. The shy, poor, bookworm pogue who hangs off the kook princess with a vice grip. She would always defend you, telling them off. Even going as far as getting into an argument with Rafe about you. He wasn’t always a dick to you, at first he was even nice? If you could even use that word but when he started to do drugs he became a different person.

You’ve spent countless hours in this house and viewing how the family dynamic works. They sometimes tend to forget that you are there, your quietness hiding you from their view. You’ve seen how Rafe can get, yelling and making a mess of things. How Ward neglects his eldest and youngest for Sarah and so on. The family has a complicated relationship that’s for sure, but you knew something was wrong.

Now you can see what was wrong, it was all of you. “No, I don't want filthy pogues in my house. They are nothing but low lives Sarah. If you want to ruin your life fine but don’t drag the rest of us down.” Rafe’s voice booms over hers. “Ahhhh you are so crazy. You are literally the worst. I just wanted to have a good time with my friends. Why can’t you just be a normal brother for once?” Sarah storms off running into you on her way back outside. 

“Hey did you?” She points behind her and you just nod. “I’m sorry.” You give her a quick hug and she goes back outside. Entering the kitchen you see Rafe texting on his phone leaning on the counter. He looks up at you and rolls his eyes. “What do you want, pogue?”  You ignore the venom that was laced in his words. Doing what you always do, biting your tongue afraid of the confrontation's consequences. “Fucking spit it out, stop being such a baby.” With a deep breath you do.

“Maybe you should try being nicer to people. Sarah’s your sister and you treat her like shit.” Rafe scoffs as you get water from the fridge. “If I wanted advice I wouldn’t go to someone who’s poor. You and your criminal friends are just a waste of space.” He watches as you walk away, looking back to say one last thing today. “Don’t you find it funny how Sarah actually has friends. You’re still hanging out with high schoolers because everyone hates you. Maybe it's time to change and grow up.”

He left you alone after that. The rest of the afternoon was peaceful and filled with fun. At first you were scared of what he would say or do. You expected him to actually run out after you and start yelling. But nothing happened. Sarah had ordered you all pizzas and set up the movies in the living room. Everyone ate and walked as the movies played in the background. As it got later, the sun died, sleeping until it is brought to life once again in the morning. Mostly everyone was asleep, Kie and Sarah chatted and you chimed in time for time. But soon the sounds of Kie’s voice faded and became nothing. 

“Sarah?” The sound of blankets indicates that someone is moving around.”Yeah?” There’s so much you want to say, tell her so she knows you are there for you. But none of them seem good enough. “Are you okay?” You hear a sigh and more shuffling. Sarah plops her pillow and blanket next to you, laying down, she finally answers. “I guess.”

“It must be tough when he acts like that. I’m sorry you don’t deserve this.” Usually you don’t really comment on these things. Rafe is an iffy topic for Sarah. After he tried to kill her, she finds it hard to even look at him. She wants to help him because he’s her brother but at the same time she doesn’t recognize him. You don’t like to pick at the sore wound so you tend to just lend a comforting hand. “It’s always kinda been like this, the drugs just make it worse.” She pauses, taking a deep breath. “I still remember when we were little and I was so scared of a thunderstorm that he held me the whole night. Told me that he would always be there to protect me because he was my big brother, he loved me. Sometimes I wish I could go back to that, I don’t know who he is.”

You hand finds hers over the blankets, squeezing her fingers. “Sometimes people get lost. Some get help and find their way while the others continue on the never ending path. It sucks that you can’t do anything, he won’t let you. If it makes you feel better I think that part of him is still in there somewhere, he just hasn’t had the chance to show it.” 

Her fingers squeeze yours back. “I hope so.” Sarah fell asleep shortly after that conversation, leaving you to lay there and think. You think back to when you were young, Rafe seemed normal then. Sure he had some quirks but what child doesn’t. He would always hold the door for you everywhere you went. Ward would have you tag along on outings since he felt bad seeing your face after Sarah would tell you about something cool they did. There were also moments when he would try to make you smile, the little boy just wanted to make you happy. 

At that time Rafe was okay with having you around, if you twisted it out of him he might even say excited. That didn’t last long because their mother died and with her she took the last last bit of hope he ever had. He never truly felt safe again knowing that the person he loved the most was just gone. The outburst was the first sign he wasn’t okay, yet Ward ignored it. Then it was the violence, once again ignored. Finally the drugs got him the attention he was looking for. All for him to hear what he always knew. “You’re a fucking disappointment Rafe. Knew it from the moment I laid eyes on you.” From then on out the world was dead to him, he only needed to focus on himself. Everyone else is the enemy. 

Sarah’s words keep replaying in your head. Why can’t Rafe see he’s hurting people? You get why he shut you out, even when you were crushed and cried, you understood. But he can’t do it anymore to his own sister. Without thinking your body makes a mistake. It carries you up the stairs and straight into his room. The sounds of the door shutting wakes him up, he rubs his eyes trying to process what woke him. He opens his eyes just in time to see your hand in the air and strikes his cheek with your palm. 

“What the fuck.” He had to take a second to fully realize that you just slapped him. “What is your problem? Can’t you just be nice to people.” He sits up on the bed and you try to push him back down but he catches your hands. “Me be nice? You just walked into my room while I was sleeping just so you could fucking slap me. How about you be nice.” You struggle to get his grip off of you to no avail, he was holding on tight.

“I’ve been nice since the first time I met you. Kept my mouth shut when you did fucked up shit. Stop ruining your life and the life of others.” His eyes are piercing yours, his hold somehow tighter. “Maybe you should keep it shut, I like it better when you aren’t talking.” He pulls you closer, your knee catching you on the bed so you don’t fall. 

He’s staring at your lips, licking his to wet them. You go to argue with him but he cuts you off. “Come on. I bet a filthy pogue like you could think of ways to put it to better use.” One of his hands that was holding yours lowers. He stops once he feels your fingers brush against the bulge that’s forming in his boxers. The ignorant smirk that always bestows his face makes its way back.

Yanking your hand back, you slap him again, the smirk falling. Once again without thinking your body makes mistake two of the night. You kiss him. Pulling on the chain that lays around his neck, smashing your lips to his. Your other arms wrap around his neck, the hand holding the chain twists, closing it slightly. If this was a mistake then you can beg for forgiveness later, absolving your sins can wait. 

He just tasted too good to stop.

His hands go to your waist, pulling you onto his lap. “I knew you had a thing for me.” If this was your childhood you then there would be no room for arguing. The person you are in this moment doesn’t want to admit how true it is. You have seen how bad of a person he’s become and you know you would lose Sarah if she ever found out. “Do you even know how to keep your mouth shut? For once shut the fuck up.”

From the corner of your eye you see his belt laying on the floor in a pile of his clothes from earlier. Leaning over the side of the bed, you grab it and return to your previous position. “What are you doin” You kiss him to stop him from talking further, hands slowly pulling him over his head. The motion of you grinding down on him was enough to distract him from the feeling of the belt wrapping around his wrists and headboard. 

When you pull back and sit on his lap he goes to chase your lips just to be blocked by the fact his hands are tied. “What the fuck. Get these off.” The headboard rattles against the wall as he struggles to break loose. “Take these off right now or else.” Rafe’s tone is threatening but you can’t help but to laugh at the sight in front of you. The guy who’s been terrorizing your friend group is all vulnerable underneath you. “Or else, what? I’ll just leave you like this, maybe even take off the boxers so whoever finds you will realize you got played.” You scoot back to sit on his thighs.

“What do you think about that, huh Rafe? Personally, the idea of Ward finding you like that is hilarious. Better yet I’ll take a picture of you and post it everywhere, let everyone see the mean old Rafe Cameron as nothing else than a pussy.” Your teasing is accompanied by your fingers grazing over the bulge in his boxers. Rafe wants nothing more than to cuss you out right now. Make you regret even thinking that you could get one over on him.

The twitching in his boxers gives him away. He’s enjoying it. The big scary man that has a whole island afraid of him is enjoying the way you talk down on him. “You like that don’t you? You are a pussy, you know that right?” Your hand grips him tight, a whimper forced out of him. “Stop.” The words are weak and a contrast to how his hips are bucking up into your hand. Feeling generous you lower the boxers, taking his dick in your mouth without warning.

Rafe lets out a sigh when he feels the warmth of your mouth wrap around him. He goes to thrust into your mouth and you pull back, hands pushing his hips back down. “Do that again and I’ll leave you here to be found. I’m not kidding Rafe.” He nods at you, wincing as your nails dig into his skin. “Words.”

He looks down at you and can’t recognize who you are. Where has this side of you been hiding? He’s only ever known you as Sarah’s shy best friend. Yet the person in front of him looks like you but doesn’t act like you. “I get it. Fuck when were you like this?” From this view he looks so pretty.

His cheeks are a shade of pink from blushing, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. He looks good enough to fuck. If he took time to see what you were reading he would see that you’ve always been like this. You just never advertised it like he does. “Always have been. Maybe if you were nicer to people you would know that.” His eyes close when you go back to sucking him off. They scrunch up when he isn’t getting the satisfaction he’s looking for. You are barely even sucking.

It’s more as if he’s in your mouth and you are moving up and down on it. There’s no suction or hand to facilitate your movements. Not enough pressure for him to feel good, in fact he just feels frustrated. Your ears perk up when you hear his little groans and whimpers. “What’s wrong? Is it not good?” The words yes are on the tip of his tongue, they died as soon as his eyes met yours. There’s this defiant look in them, as if you want him to tell you somethings wrong. “No no it’s okay. Great”

You give him a smile. “Good boy.” The moans he lets out to your words are chocked on when you actually start to blow him. Rafe is no virgin that’s for sure, but god damn he feels like one right now. This has got to be one of the best blowjobs he’s ever received, scratch that it is the best. “Please.” He sounds pathetic and it makes you speed up. Rafe physically chokes on air from the sudden change, his body convulsing.

He keeps letting out these moans that sound whiny and a mix of pain. The way that he twitches in your mouth just confirms he’s close. Crystal blue eyes open to see why you stopped. Even in the dark his eyes are still beautiful, it’s not fair. Rafe watches as you slip out of your sleep shorts and panties, then you shirt. Leaving you fully exposed since you didn’t wear a bra.

Taking your panties, you crawl up to hover over his lap. He looks up at you ready to ask you to finally fuck him but you took him by surprise by shoving your panties in his mouth. “Hold this for me baby. Maybe that will finally shut you up.” The two of you stare into the others eyes as you sink down on him. Just from sucking him off you were soaked so he easily slid in. It was a good thing you muffled him. The moan he let out was so loud that it could still be heard, you had to cover his mouth just to stop the sound.

“God you act like a fucking virgin. Thought you were the kook king who could get anyone he wanted.” Rafe’s head was pinning, everything you are doing is making him so confused. He’s usually the one fucking, even when the girls on top he controls everything. Having you come in here and just fuck him as if he’s there for you is mind fucking. When he’s pictured this exact moment it was with you under him, screaming and clawing at his back as he fucked the shit out of you.

This is not how your first time should have gone. It’s the wrong way around yet it felt amazing.

Sweat is forming on your skin, the moonlight reflecting off of it. Your body is on overdrive, bouncing up and down. There is a tingle in your lower abdomen, a sign of your impending orgasim. As the feeling slowly crocendos, your body leans forward. You place the hand that was covering his mouth on his throat. The squeeze of your hand has his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

He’s so close to cumming, can feel it running from his fingertips to his arms that you have tied. He practically cries when you finally cum, your walls pulsating around him, triggering his own orgasim. You let go of his throat, wiping the tears from his eyes and shushing him. “It’s okay. You did so good.” He sobs around your panties, sucking the fabric lightly to ground himself. The way you keep slowly bouncing is killing him, he’s ready to pass out from the sensation. 

Looking down to see where the two of you were connected was his first mistake of the night. The sight alone sent him into another smaller orgasim, his body thrashing from the overstimulation. You pull yourself up and fall down next to him. After a few minutes of not talking to catch your breaths, Rafe tries to speak. Looking over at him you can see he’s staring at you, leaning up you take your panties out of his mouth and slip them back on.

“Are you going to untie me now?” You smile at him and give him a short kiss. Getting up you gather your clothes and put them on. “This isn’t funny untie me or I’ll tell everyone you fucked me.” You walk over to the side of the bed he occupied, leaning to grab the belt holding his arms. Dipping your head to his ears you whisper to him. “Really think anyone would believe you?”

You move back watching his face drop when you walk further towards the door. “Think of this as payback for all my years of silence.” You shrug and open the door. “I’ll get you back for this.” With one last look at him you smirked.

“I hope so.”

[wh0rrorb4by]

big brother - kuroo

tw: stepcest but take it however u want lol, naive reader, virginity loss, dubcon(?), umm i need big bro kuroo in my life

18+

ugh. thinking about kuroo as your older (step) bro and how annoying he’d be. constantly making fun of your height, eating the last of everything in the house (even when you wrote your name on it!), hogging the bathroom in the morning or waltzing in while you’re either in the shower or only half-dressed. he literally has no boundaries with you!

he reads your diary and holds it over your head when you demand he give it back, making you jump and paw at him for it. and if you don’t give him a kiss on the cheek he’ll read it. it’s so embarrassing! he doesn’t need to know about your fantasies, or how it makes you giddy when his friend bokuto playfully puts his arm around you and calls you affectionate nicknames — especially baby sis. God, kuroo never let you live that one down. you thought your face was going to catch on fire when he pinched your cheeks and asked if you got excited when he called you that, too. it was humiliating, and you swore he placed a ban on bokuto coming within 20 feet of you after that.

he’s such a clingy big brother, too. always hugging and grabbing at you, making you sit on his lap so he can squeeze you, holding you down and tickling you until you’re squirming and squealing — and he won’t stop that unless you give him a kiss on the lips. it’s so annoying. and he’s always coming into your room in the middle of the night to “check on you,” but really it’s just so he can crash in your bed and keep you close to him all night. he caught you by surprise the first time he did it, walking in to see you whining and humping your pillow like you were in heat. you’d never been so embarrassed in your entire life. you started crying, thinking he was going to tease you like he always does, but he only let out a breathy chuckle and told you it was okay, that it was normal. he even told you that it was hot, that guys love little virgins who get themselves off so cutely, and asked why you even bothered with a pillow when he was just across the hall.

that’s when you started to realize that even though he’s annoying, he really is a nice big brother. you couldn’t imagine any other brother letting his little sister tag along with him to everything, or letting you cry in his arms when you were all worked up and just couldn’t cum on your own. it broke his heart when you told him you think you’re just defective, that you’ll never be able to please a guy if you can’t even please yourself. you guessed he just felt bad for you when you cried, that he really had a soft spot for his little sister, because he offered to teach you how to touch yourself. you were grateful to have such a smart big brother, too, because after just looking at your hands he found that the problem was that your fingers are just too small! you need big, long fingers to really make you feel good. better yet, you need a long, thick cock to really give you a good orgasm — and who better to guide you through your first time than your big brother, who’d taken care of you your whole life? you were nervous to accept at first, but he eased your little mind by telling you that only bad brothers leave their baby sisters all needy and empty and insecure about still being a virgin, and besides, he’d take better care of you than anyone else could. and he was so right — you were shaking and whining and cumming all over your sheets by the time he bottomed out inside you and taught you the proper way to rub your little clit. kissing with tongue really helped you get more into it, too.

by the time he fucked you open enough to really start thrusting, you were all dizzy and dumb and wondering why you didn’t come to him earlier. and when he was whispering praise in your ear and sucking marks into your neck and filling you up with his warm cum, all you could think about was how grateful you were to have such a good big brother.

[johnwickb1tsch]

Everyone is sending GIF requests, so, here is mine. Hint: Jealous John? (Though I doubt this man can ever be jealous but...whatever comes to your genius brain)

Thanks!

@sweetwolfcupcake SWEEETS!!!!! I loved this prompt SO MUCH!!! You're such a genius. *kisses your head* I hope you like this! 💗💗💗

Bodyguard!John Wick x Shy!Curvy!Fem!Student!Reader

⚠warnings: threat of noncon (not John), mention of parental death

For the record, you didn’t mean to fall in love with John Wick. But he was nothing like the other goons your father had tasked with guarding you before.  Wick was tall, and handsome, and had the soulful eyes of a poet. You know he’s dangerous; he can kill a man 30 ways with a pencil (the men of your father’s Bratva will not shut up about it) but he seems so…gentle. And the thing that really proved your undoing?

That good looking bastard was bookish, and it did something inconceivable to your lit major brain. Ever your dark shadow, you spent countless late nights in the library together, and so many Saturday afternoons browsing the used bookshops, combing for treasures. He would rescue the books that looked better fit for the waste bin, taking them to repair. Maybe he was there to protect you, for your father had many unsavory enemies, but it was easy to forget when John discussed with you the finer points of the Bloomsbury Set or the themes of Anna Karenina.  

Maybe your father assigned John to you because he was one of the few gangsters around in his brigata one could trust to guard a relatively innocent young lady–that didn’t mean John was safe from you. You just couldn’t help yourself; you’d like to plead insanity, your honor, the night you finally broke and tried to kiss him, while he was helping you with your homework for Russian Lit 301. 

How stupid you felt, how utterly pathetic, when he’d very kindly dislodged you from his so soft mouth, looking at you with pity in his sad dark eyes. “You know…we can’t do this,” he told you.

Mortified, you’d fled to your room and cried, knowing you are the most ridiculous human being on the face of the earth.

What were you thinking?

You are nothing like the tall, ethereal creatures that populate the clubs where Wick frequents with your father. You are shy, and curvy, and frankly…a nerd. An old soul, your father would say fondly, but you know he is just being kind.

You’re not sure how you got it into your head, that you were going to make Wick sorry. You’ve never been one for going out, but you decide to give it a whirl, wanting to be anyone but yourself. You decide to go to the Red Circle, to hang out with the other Bratva brats who care way more about clubbing and clothes and who’s fucking who, than classes at NYU. 

At first you really hate it–but after a few shots of vodka, it’s not so bad. John has to hang back, keeping an eye on you but not interacting with your friends. He’s scary good at lurking in the shadows, but you know he’s keeping an eye on every move you make. Maybe that’s why you let Alexsei kiss you, the son of a semi-friendly loan shark who works in proximity with your father. You don’t really like him, if you’re being honest. But he’s not totally hideous–and he’s there–and John will have to watch it all. 

You and Alex start to have a thing. It’s no big deal. Something to do, on the summer break from your studies. You invite him over to watch a movie, knowing you’ll have the house to yourself. Your father is always at his office doing business, your idiotic brother is always out getting into trouble with his khuligan friends, and your mother…is dead, God rest her poor soul. 

You can tell Alex is a little drunk, when he shows up at your door. He’s very handsy, when you settle in on the couch to watch the latest mindless action flick, his pick. It’s ok, until he tries to unbutton your pants.

You have a secret. 

You’re 21, nearly graduated from university–and you’re still a virgin. 

This is not a thing you intend to give to Alexsei Plushenko. You don’t even really like the way he touches you.

“Stop, Alex.”

“Don’t be scared,” he tries to coax you. “This will be fun.”

“No,” you say. “Let’s just…”

He covers your mouth with his, shutting you up, his heavy body pinning you on the couch. “Don’t be such a stuck up bitch.” His groping fingers squeeze your breast clumsily, painfully, before fumbling with your jeans again. You try to push him off, but he’s heavy, and strong.

Suddenly, he is yanked from you like he weighs nothing at all. You hardly recognize what is happening at first, until you hear the sound of flesh striking flesh. John is on him, his iron fist meeting the younger man’s face. 

“John! Stop!” 

Wick looks up at you, meeting your eyes in a primal lock of stares–your heart drops and soars again, as you feel as though you’ve stumbled on a wolf over his kill, and the wildest thing?

You get the inkling that wolf is jealous. 

“Don’t hurt him anymore,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. A beating will make some complications for your father. A death? Could mean war.

Wick punches the handsy young man one more time, his eyes never leaving yours, before hauling Alex up by the collar and frog marching him out the front door, tossing him down the concrete steps of your home.

John finds you waiting for him in the marble foyer, his eyes wild, his knuckles torn. You don’t even know what to say. 

“What did you even see in him?” he finally demands, clearly annoyed.

“He wasn’t you,” you answer without thinking.

Wick steps up to you, toe to toe, so that you have to crane your neck to meet his eyes. His hair has broken free from its slicked back style, tendrils in his eyes.

He’s never looked more beautiful, your savage savior.

“You’re trying to get me killed.”

You shake your head, the very thought anathema to you. You are transfixed, unable to look away, unable to think. “You’re too precious to me,” you admit, and screw your eyes shut the moment you admit it, a spear of mortification piercing you from your heart to your stupid, aching, cunt.

“Milaya…” 

It’s the sweetest thing he’s ever said to you.

Your eyes drop to his knuckles, torn open in his defense of you. “You’re hurt.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Not to me.” You don’t know where you get the courage, to take his hand, and lead him up to your room. You can hardly believe it, that he actually follows you. In your ensuite bathroom you dab at his knuckles with a washcloth, slather him with ointment and plaster him with bandaids. You run out of sober flesh colored ones, so the last cut gets a Disney bandage, Ariel and sea-flowers decorating this severe man’s knuckles. 

He lets you do all this, watching you intensely with those dark eyes you’re certain can see into your soul. You stand too close–and he lets you, this haunted man who watches over you day and night. Your whole life you have never wanted for anything, your father’s money buying you all your heart could possibly desire.

Until now.

You find it hard to meet his eyes, zeroing in on a spot of blood on his stark white dress shirt. 

“Y/n.” With a gentle knuckle under your chin he turns your gaze up to his again. “You are too smart, and too beautiful, to be wasting your time with a fuckboy like Alexsei Plushenko.”

The first part you already knew. The second, from this man’s lips? Your knees nearly collapse out from under you, a flood of excitement and dread coursing through your system. You almost can’t stand it–it’s like being burned alive, and your native shyness rears with a vengeance. 

You try to flee, back to the safety of your room, and your books, your imaginary lives that can’t really hurt you–but he catches your hand. His grip is not hard, but it is enough to stop you dead in your tracks. 

“Y/n…” He’s pleading with you, but you don’t understand what he’s asking you. 

“You said you don’t want me, John…” you say, still unable to meet his eyes. “So let me go.” 

He answers by pulling you against him, the solid line of his torso a brick wall beneath the hand you raise to catch yourself. But bricks are not warm, like the flesh beneath his designer clothes. You can feel the wires in your brain sizzling, the synapses simply melting down. Your heart is Chernoble waiting to happen. 

“I didn’t say that.” 

“You said–”

“I said, ‘We can’t.’ Not, that ‘I don’t want you.’”

You almost cannot breathe, your heart attempting to beat out of your chest, a ringing in your ears that drowns out all else. There is nothing, nothing, in this world you’ve wanted more, than to hear those words from this man. But now that he’s standing before you, against you, holding you–you cannot move. You do not know what to do. 

He solves this problem by cupping your cheek in his big hand–God, how you’ve noticed those hands–and then he is pressing his mouth to yours, gentle at first, but then…hungry. As though John Wick has been starving, for you, and it’s all you can do just to stand there and take it without melting into a puddle on the floor. His arms wrap around your back, holding you, lifting you to your tiptoes as he devours you. When at last he pulls back you are left seeing stars, struck utterly speechless with your hands on his broad shoulders. 

“Tell me to stop,” he raggedly demands, his eyes boring down into yours. 

Finally, you find your courage, meeting his stare. “I don’t want you to stop,” you whisper. 

“Good. Because I don’t think I can.” He kisses you again, just as hungrily as the first time, his arm an iron band around your waist and his fingers sneaking up into your hair. That’s your kryptonite: your hair, and blithely you know he can do anything and everything he wants to you now.  

Your father is a bad man, but you have not had a bad life. You have never known hunger, or true physical pain. He has protected you from the violence of his world. He has played things smart enough that not even the FBI can touch you, even though they absolutely know what he is and where your family gets its money. Despite all this, you have been dying inside, a slow, withering demise, until John Wick’s lips touched yours. He is the life-giving rain over the desert; your heart is a field of wildflowers erupting in a superbloom. 

This time, he leads you, in between kissing you, to the loveseat at the foot of your bed. He sits, and only when he tries to pull you into his lap do you resist. “John…I’m too…much,” you insist, conscious of your generous flesh and what it would be like to set that on top of him, afraid he’ll be horrified. 

However, he just scoffs at you, grabbing you up anyway and guiding you down. For a moment you are weightless–he knows how to upset a person’s balance, how to use their weight against them to put them on the floor. This time he uses it to put you on him. You’re not exactly proud of it, but the ease with which he utterly manhandles you makes your long-neglected lady parts sing with desire. 

“You are perfect, dietka,” he insists, pulling you closer with hands on your round behind, “And I am very strong.” For the first time in you can’t remember how long–he smiles at you. That beautiful half smile with a sparkle in his dark eyes that takes your breath away–you love him so much it hurts. 

This time you don’t feel so shy, about kissing him. You feel like your bones are filled with butterflies, and you both moan and giggle as you do your best to devour each other from the mouth down. Aside from an appreciative squeeze of your thighs bracketing his hips, he doesn’t try to seduce you, even though you know you absolutely would have given him anything he asked you for. He is content, just to kiss you, for this night at least, and oh. He’s good at it too. 

You decide you would burn down the world, for one more kiss from John Wick.  

Later you find yourself snuggled in your bed with John, fully clothed, your head on his shoulder as he toys with the fine hairs at the back of your neck. His touch is heaven, and with your legs twined with his it’s hard not to squirm and writhe against his muscled thigh like a horny little gremlin. 

Later, you tell yourself. It can wait for later. 

Like maybe, tomorrow. 

“We’ll have to be careful,” he warns you. “If your father…” 

If your father found out, the best thing that could happen to John is getting fired. 

“I won’t let you get hurt,” you promise, kissing his bearded cheek, praying you’re telling the truth.

He chuckles at this; a deep sound you feel more than hear. “I thought that was my job?”

“You know what I mean.” 

“I know.” He looks down at you with a tenderness that curls your toes. “It would be worth it, for you.” 

Your heart has suddenly decided it would like to take up residence in your throat–permanently.

“Oh, John…”  

He kisses you again, a soft brush of lips that renders you weightless. This is how you die: it’s almost too much to stand, this impossibly full feeling in your chest. Then he narrows his eyes at you playfully. “You have been driving me mad, you little minx. I wanted to kill everyone who so much as looked at you in the Circle.” 

You snort at the thought–you do not understand, really, that he could absolutely do it too. 

“Not to worry. I think the library is more my speed.” He rests his head against yours with a small, contented sigh. “Mine too,” he admits. The smell of old books around you is a soothing balm to you both. 

You know small bits of his past. Morsels he has sprinkled, here and there in the conversations you have had. You know he did not have an easy childhood. You know that this life was not really his choice. Even less so than most, who move and work in the Underworld. 

“If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?” you ask. 

He lifts an eyebrow at you. “I’m liking New York, at the moment,” he tells you with an affectionate squeeze. 

“Oh come on.” 

“Fine. I like Paris a lot.” 

“Hmm,” you answer, but what you think, is: Done.  You will have the opportunity to arrange to study abroad soon, and you think a trip away from the Tarasov territory might do you both some good.

Surely Papachka wouldn’t deprive you of your most trusted bodyguard?

[ericshoney]

Mini Matt and Matt prank time ~ Sturniolo Triplets

Summary: Matt and Mini Matt prank Nick and Chris with a scary prank.

Warnings: Usual swearing, shouting, crying, slapping, pranking

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

Today you had planned to prank Chris and Nick, with some help from Matt. The two of you were slightly tired of some of their jokes, so you were going to take action.

You were both sat in Matt's room talking through the plan. It was a simple prank and you wanted to see the look of shock and fear written on their faces.

"Alright, so you'll go into the kitchen and pretend to grab a drink. I'll come out and start shouting saying you had broken my headset." Matt began.

"Then I'll deny it, but you still act mad and start shouting louder." You continued.

"Then hopefully Nick and Chris will hear and walk in just as I am about to "slap" you." He finished, using air quotes for slap, as you both knew he wouldn't actually hit you and it was for the prank.

"Yes! We'll get them good! Show them we aren't boring!" You cheered, giving Matt a high-five.

Matt smiled as you walked out into the kitchen to see the eldest and youngest triplet nowhere in sight. You pretend to get a drink as you see Matt come out, pretending to look angry.

"I can't believe you, Y/n!" He shouted loudly.

"W....What?" You replied, playing your part.

"You broke my fucking headset! This was my new one!" He responded.

"No I didn't." You said.

"Don't fucking lie! You said the other day you wanted a new headset, your just fucking jealous!"

As you wanted, the shouting cause Nick and Chris to walk in from their rooms, both looking confused and slightly worried.

"Matt please calm down....I didn't break your headset." You continued acting, adding a scared tone to your voice as Matt walked closer to you.

"Oh yeah? Who did then?" He called with a scoff.

"I-I don't know! But it wasn't mean, I swear!" You screamed.

"Your such a liar!" He exclaimed.

"Hey woah, calm down." Nick said, stepping closer to his brother.

"No! She's always thinking she can get away with shit!" Matt responded.

"If she did break it, it wasn't on purpose." Chris said calmly.

"Fuck no! She's just a jealous kid!" Matt called, giving you a wink, indicating he was going in for the "slap".

Matt stepped closer, raising his arm to "hit" you, but was quickly grabbed by Nick, as Chris stepped in front of you to block his brother.

"Woah, no fucking way are you going to hit her. Get the fuck out." Nick said angrily.

"Yeah dude, not cool." Chris said.

Matt looked at you as Nick held him tightly, he gave you a slight nod letting you know it was time to reveal the prank. You both laughed which confused the other two.

"What the fuck is funny?" Chris questioned.

"We got you!" You exclaimed.

"What?" Nick called.

"It was a prank! I'd never hit my Mini Matt, or any woman at that." Matt said.

"Well thank fuck for that." Nick said, letting go of Matt.

"My headset isn't broken either." Matt added.

"Fucking hell, you both scared the shit out of us." Chris said with a sigh.

"Maybe don't underestimate us or call us boring." You replied.

"Never again, kid." Nick said.

"But we might just have to get you back." Chris responded with a smirk.

"Like to see you try." Matt challenged.

[mirrors-are-green]

How to make Tim & Damian friends? Through animals. Obviously. Also Damian should've gotten a horse waaaaay before there was a cow. He's a 10 year old aristocratic child. Which likes animals. OF. COURSE. HE. IS. GETTING. A. HORSE.

Damian is a horse girl. No, I will not elaborate.

(It's a sport. Dignified. With animals. Which you get to train. Actually the better you train them, the more successful you are. OF COURSE he would be into it. Come on.)

(horse riding training in Mongolia was actually used as a reward/present for him from Thalia. Still training. Technically. But you all know how it went.)

(bonus points if he gets to bond with a stable man)

What if Tim got a horse from his parents for a late random-rich-folks present? Like a car, but he was too young so... He names her Queenie Buttercup.

What would Tim do with a horse? Well, he researches. Alright. His parents bought him a place in the best stable in the city, but it's so obviously corrupt. Also incompetent. Tim' s gotta take care of that. Obviously. Also some horses are horribly mistreated by their owners. Or sold to the slaughterhouse. He manipulates, blackmails, bribes these people off. And.... he somehow ended up with a full stable some day, without even realizing it or planning it one bit???.

Also he lets all the poor kids in (he hired some people to supervise dw) to the horsies. Obviously. They help around. Get to ride? There is one pair of twins from Crime Alley (most of the kids are from there...) taking care of this one old horse in particular. They're making him the most beautiful looking food, braid his mane, decorate him with frills...

There is a quiet red haired boy, with black eyeliner, heavily tattooed. He always helps the younger kids and is the best at shushing any spooked horse.

There is a great competition who can decorate their saddle the prettiest. Some adults even try to cheat...

There's also one reeeealy ambitious kid. He wants to compete for real. He showed up, determined, fists balled up, at Tim's front door one day. He said that he discovered some of Janet & Jack artifacts were in fact very convincing fakes like this one tile, from example. Supposedly from Hadrian's grave. But it was identified on the basis of three papers, all of which cite in a critical junction a paper which, under closer examination, is clearly just pretending to answer the question of the origin, in fact it was written with the specific person in mind from the very beginning, isn't it strange that....... etc etc. But he won't tell anybody, no siree. He'll spare Tims' family the embarrassment. But only if he gets to ride Queenie Buttercup. And if he's good, get the chance to compete.

(He has a mother who supports him very much. And a stepfather who loves him. And two no no-nonsense older sisters (one is veterinarian, Tim hires her immediately. Pays her VERY handsomely. She always sees through his bullshit and doesn't care about his money or power or status, her brother and animals come first. Damian is Very Impressed and demands to be made aware every time she does something so he can watch or even assist.) who do whatever they can to help him realize his dream. Actually his whole block loves him. When he competes the whole Crime Alley keeps their fingers crossed for him to win. He gets a big celebration when he comes home after winning his first big trophy.)

There's also a girl from Tim's class really into horses. She's overly formal and does karate in her free time. Tim never noticed her before, but now they're besties. They trade statistics and have regular fights about what's the most likely breed to do XYZ.

Damian of course wants the piece of that fairytale dream stable as soon as he finds out (so maybe the stables are not on the manor grounds idk). Also after realizing how many animals Tim has rescued he starts to respect him.

How he found out?

Tim obviously doesn't advertise that he's got a whole stable and is literally changing lives of a bunch of kids. No one cares about his stuff, obviously. He would bore them to tears when talking about it, just like with any other of his hobbies. Also it's normal and totally what anyone would do. Besides, doesn't every upper class family have stables? It's, like, a requirement when you're filthy rich. Like having a yacht.

Also that could make Tim, who always wants to do everything by himself, the most experienced in terms of normal farm adjacent/ manual labor. Like, the Bats are city boys through and through. Jason maybe did idk some construction work when he needed money, but he wouldn't get the chance to actually muck about with horse manure probably ever. So it would be HILARIOUS. He could casually bring it up? His casual knowledge of this kind of work. Everyone would think it was a joke and something he researched, so in poor taste even to pretend to actually have experience with this hardship and act all knowledgeable. Jason would scoff at the silver spoon Tim has been fed with since birth, so what can he possibly know. And he just goes...

"Oh yeah, I run a stable actually. Yes I do the clean ups with everyone. Obviously. So that's why I know about that. Anyway so what are we watching?" And they're just SHOCKED.

Or alternatively

Tim is of course the owner of like, 6 cats. Actually there was just one stable cat at the beginning but she had kittens so... yeah it's 6 now. Yeah we take care of them. They're cute. And he just casually brings it up to Damian?

Tim: "I totally get making so many pictures of your pet. I have, like, five thousand pictures of my cats. I sometimes stalk them, even. To get better shots. And they look so adorable in each of them!"

Damian: "You. Have cats. As in. Multiple."

Tim: "Oh I've never told you, sorry, completely forgot haha. Do you wanna see the pi- *grabs his phone*?

Damian: "That. Was. The. Stupidest. Question. I've. Ever. Heard. OF COURSE I WANT TO SEE. SHOW ME NOW OR PERISH.

Damian, some time later: And just as I was looking at Ismat Hasna...

Tim: Woohoo stop. I don't know what you're talking about. None of my horses are named like that?

Damian, completely seriously: Well obviously. If she was originally named like that, it would mean you have some common sense and I wouldn't have to rename her. But, alas. You named the most majestic horse on this plane of existence QUEENIE. BUTTERCUP. So. She needed an intervention from someone more sensible than you. Obviously.

Tim:

Damian: You're welcome, by the way. I already corrected her paperwork.

And they just bond and start being friendly towards each other and Dick is soooo proud, Bruce has no idea what/how (he suspects blackmail or witchcraft), Jason and Tim team up to support Crime Alley kiddos in pursuit of their hobbies. Jason got literal tears in his eyes when he saw, in real time, some harmless contact with animals and getting a chance to take care of something slowly, slowly breaks the circle of violence these kids were stuck in.

His next charity project is some martial arts centre, an indoor basketball court, paying some good trainers to just believe in those kids. It works wonders.

Idk just some thoughts I would be very glad if someone made it into a proper story or even help me develop the concept fuller... just tag me!!

[valuunit]

best dad ever

summary: it’s dad’s day and harry and his family celabrate it in the most chaotic way

here in mexico today’s celebrated father’s day, so yeah, i wrote this.

Content: She/her pronouns. children lol, a itty bitty of smut, i wanted to write something but i couldn’t, im with my family 💀, food, pregnancy. oh, mommy is used a couple of times sexually, but nothing crazy. that’s it ig :)

Disclaimer: English is not my first lenguaje so if there’s any mistake i’m sorry, please let me know so i can correct it :D

“c’mon guys, dad should be getting up by now.” y/n walked across the hall, standing next to the master bedroom’s door.

“we’re going mum” alisha said behind her baby brother, dereck, who was barely walking with a ballon in his little hand he was holding like his life depended on it.

she sweetly laughed and kissed her two children. “good job, wait here a minute, when i open the door we’re going to say ‘happy day, daddy styles’, alright?”

dereck laughed, showing his father’s dimples on his face, god, he was his dad in all of its splendor.

“yes mummy!”

“perfect.” she entered the room quietly, her bare feet touching the rug she and harry bought when they were moving in together to their first apartment. “harry…!” she whispered.

“hmm.” he mumbled.

“happy day, sleepyhead.” she started crawling into the bed, careful to avoid his limbs and wake him up with pain.

“oh, yeah, dad’s day. i completely forgot about it, like the rest of the world.” his green eyes were barely visible, but charming as always. his view went to his stunning wife, his words, hovering over his body.

“well, i guess i’m an e.t.” she replied closing the space between their faces.

“i guess so, your out of this world.” his hands went to her hips, sitting them in his thighs.

she laughed and kissed his cheek, then cleaning a saliva stain off of it. “you’re still a flirt, aren’t you?”

“just with you, my love” he dragged his hands up, going under her new lace pj top, passing through her spine, shoulders and back down to her ass. he smirked, giving away his intentions, but y/n didn’t.

“wai-” before she could complain a knock on the door separated them.

“well, later then.” he giggled.

“shut up!, your kid prepared something really cute for you.”

“oh, my babies.” he smiled, when someone mentions his kids his eyes light up in such warm light it’s almost heavenly.

“yes, so, act surprised.”

“mummy! a minute has passed!”

“going, baby!” y/n appeared scared of her only daughter while harry laughed so loudly dereck also did.

she quickly turned to the door, now not caring if she kicked harry’s legs or anything, which she did, right on the balls. “oof, baby!”

“sorry!” she squealed and opened the door.

“‘appy ‘ay, da’y styds!” dereck screamed.

“oh my god, good job love, but.” she laughed at the chaoticness of the situation. alisha was also laughing. “now.” she grabbed alisha by the shoulders gently and let them inside the room.

“happy day daddy!”

“‘addy haffy!” dereck jumped, jumped and landed on the bed. where harry was now seated laughing, his hands in this private area.

“my beautiful children, come here!” he opened his arms letting his daughter run towards him.

“careful!” y/n screamed when she saw alisha landing near his legs.

“come here mummy!!”

“yeah mummy, come ‘ere” harry smirked putting dereck and alisha around one arm, having space for his wife.

“going daddy harry” she went, they were happy in the bed, the ballon, which was harry’s face, floating above them, dereck still gripping it.

“what’s that honey?” with all the fuzz, harry didn’t saw that masterpiece. so he looked up, watching a not so attractive picture of him in a medium size ballon. “wow! i love it bud, thanks!” he said faking enthusiasm.

“he loves it bubba!” y/n smiled towards her son, hi smiled even more.

“i also got u something dad!” alisha went to the door, where were a plate with pancakes, that had “best dad ever!” written with nutella and berries.

“thanks honey!, it’s so pretty and sweet”

“any time, dad” alisha replied, harry laughed.

“i taught her that!” y/n said raising her hand and smiling.

“where were we?”

that’s what y/n heard as soon as she got into the bedroom after taking dereck to bed. it’s been a long day of celebrating, so it was relatively easy.

“hm?” she pretended not to have heard, turning around and quietly locking the door.

“i said…” he kissed her shoulder. “where. were. we.” kiss after kiss he was progressively getting closer to her soft spot at the back of her left ear.

“ahm” even with his kissed it was hard to think for her, “i don’t recall… anything.”

“i could make you remember, or maybe you’ll prefer me to left your pretty little mind in blank.”

she turned to face his beautiful, handsome husband. looking at her with as much love and desire as he looks at authentic tiramisu.

“i like the second one better, but first i should tell you something.” she took his cheek and kissed him passionately, slowly and lovingly.

“whatever you need” he said after a couple of minutes. they joined their foreheads, looking into each other’s eyes.

“i’m pregnant, three weeks.”

she smiled so sweetly in response to his reaction. his whole face fell in utter shock, his hands, shaking, took her face and his eyes searched for every bit of honesty his wife had to offer.

“my love, a-are you kidding?” she shook her head no, a couple of tears going down her face into her wide smile.

“that’s, that’s amazing, thank you, thank you, for everything.” he hugged her, lifted her, spun her, loved her.

“yeah, yeah, you’re welcome. now, where were we?” she smirked, her hands in his face.

“no, love, what about the… you know, thingy…” he replied looking at her stomach.

she laughed, hard. “c’mon, you promised leaving me watching stars, now you do it. it will be fine, it’s smaller than a pinhead.”

“you’re so hot, love. before we do anything else can i thank you again?”

“of course. with an orgasm.”

“your wish is my command, mommy.”