#then he bow down and cried

[lvminisciel]

🤗🤗

ive just spent the last 6hrs goin thru every piece of media from 'the phantom of the opera' and all i can say is

WHY IS IT LIKE THATTT

why's the ending like that??? be it the one from broadway theatre dated back in 1988, or the musical in 1986, the movie from 2004, even in the original novel by Leroux himself, none of them ends with a closure of the phantom's acceptance..

i hvnt watch the 1925 silent film version tho; but so far i think i like the og novel version best

personally i spite the 2004 version so much as in tht one, christine clearly stated tht she's afraid of the phantom (as uttered in the song 'Twisted Every Way') while it's never been told that way in the novel/broadway/other versions

on the og novel tho, despite christine still married raoul in the end, he still returned to bury the phantom during his passing, the last thing phantom had asked before they parted. she fulfilled her promise, and put the ring(?) he gave her to be buried w/ him.. truly the best ending of all version me thinks

overall i loved the parallels of night & daylight imagery. of heaven & hell, beast & beauty. also the part where she said 'he sings inside my mind'? imo it can be interpreted in many ways

[tonycries]

ATTACK ON P*SSY!

Synopsis. He’s a 10 but when you ask him to be rough…he goes rough.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Higuruma x Reader, Gojo x Reader, Ino x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, rough s, headlocks, hard and fast, manhandIing, dóggy, GOJO’S POWERS, tummy buIges, spítting, dúmbifícation, MARATHONS, jealous s (Nanami’s side), chokíng, leaving marks, cúmplay, p talking, breéding, cervíx kíssing, true form Sukuna, dp, Ino cries, pússydrunk men, they go FÉRAL, p sIapping, pet names, swéaring.

A/N. Lmk if you get the Love and Deepspace reference in Nanami’s heh.

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Twisterrr!

“So…my girl wants it rough, huh?” Toji’s scarred lips tickle precisely the most sensitive spots on your neck, making him depart a husky snicker. “Heh- stop talkin’ outta ya pussy, mama.”

Your spit-glittered mouth formulates into a pout, hazy peripherals darting over your shoulder and towards your leering boyfriend. Hot. Each syllable hitched with whines, “I-I’m not. I reeeally want it r-”

“When ya can’t even handle this?” 

He’s cutting your babbling off with an utterly mean drive of his hips, thoroughly opening up your clingy walls with the curvaceous tip crowning his shaft. Probing n’ probing until he’s pressing a sweet, sweet smooch lovingly on your g-spot. 

Holding it there, unmoving. 

Rendering you so stupid with only a single thrust that you feel yourself tremble like a leaf once he’s gritting out a low, “Oh? She got even ngh- wetter.” And before you know it, a lengthy foot is being pressed right along the middle of your spine. Strong, rugged palms pulling and pulling on your upper-arms to bend you into such a lecherous arch-

“Fine. Brace yourself, doll.”

And Toji barely even gives your popped ears the time to hear his rasped-out promise let alone register it- fuck, you should consider yourself lucky that he gave you a warning in the first place. 

Because Toji Fushiguro was fucking you like he hated you. 

His blushing mushroom head was as red as a strawberry, and just as thick - whacking against the poor bullseye of your tenderest nooks n’ crannies repeatedly until your tastebuds simply drowned in saliva. 

Until you were throwing your head back with a thick gasp, “T-Tooooji- like that. J-just like that.”

“Just like hah! that?” He’s crooning from behind, planting a peck near your jaw. You feel so dirty when his foot strikes down to bow you even deeper into the perfect geometrical curvature, “Bend. Bend f’me a little more- yeahhh, just like that. M’only getting started, mama.” 

Fuck, what?

Toji finds himself smiling all dopily at the tiny sob that slips through your cracked lips. Your glassy eyes wide, thighs shivering against his meaty ones, stringy wads of drool slipping and sliding in thin trails down either cute side of your maw. 

So pretty. 

“Whaaaat? D-don’t tell me this ngh- needy pussy-” And just as rude Toji talked, he pounded into you even ruder. Swollen, heavy cock now smearing streaks of sappy pre that stick on top of your g-spot like glue. “-can’t-” Hard. Merciless. So full and dumbstruck, you can only mewl when his big, beefy biceps ‘round you grow tighter. Bulging out large bruises on your heated skin, “-handle it?”

“I can I can—” You’re shaking your head like a rattle, vision fuzzy with tears and the arousal of his drenched black pubes scratching your violently papping mounds raw. 

He coos, “Mhm, and this pretty pussy hck! won’t cum immediately?”

“Won’t-” You’re choking out, words getting stuck in the leaden ball in your throat when he angles his bloated cock to stroke the roof of your gummy walls. Puffed-up veins massaging every treasure trove of orifices in that delicious zigzag pattern of his. 

“Hmm— dunno if I ngh- believe you.” 

“P-promise.” Hips swiveling back into his in a lazy back and forth that slaps your ass into his toned abs, every murked pant you’re letting off matches the creaking bedsprings of Toji’s mattress. Sniffling, “Give it t’me. Fuh-fuck me rougher pleeease-”

You bite down on your slackened lower lip as soon as he graces your throbbing cunt with a claggy spank. Still being plastered against Toji’s slick, glissading front with one hand of his hands manhandling both of yours to pin behind your back.

You can feel the sloshing whoosh of his buttery precum dripping out of you, coating your inner thighs with such carnal need. 

He chortles something dangerous, and you don’t have to ogle behind at Toji to know that he had his eyes dead set on the prize. Right on your sobbing pussy. “Well…since ya said h-heh ‘please.’”

Within two bats of your tear-lathered lashes, Toji’s unclasping his vice-like restraint on your arms to let you fall onto the cacophonous bed like a delicate piece of domino. Tittering.

Waiting the few sultry nanoseconds it takes for your brows to knit into an adorable furrow, waiting until that disappointed groan is just building up in your throat- before he’s shoving your sweat-shimmered face into the pillows and rutting.

“Jeez, mama-” You hear Toji drawl out through the muffling cotton in your ears, low baritone barely audible over the furious thwack! of his full, rounded breeder balls spanking your thighs. “Told you you’d cum ngh- immediately.”

Fuck. 

Fuck.

And it’s only then that you realize that you are cumming - white-hot bliss flashing behind your flapping lids, your hips struggling to push and push off of the soaked sheets while he draaaaags out your high.

You’re grappling onto the headboard for dear life. For anything grounding, because right now you’re so weak you think you might just break. “Toji- Tooooji…c-cumming. M’cumming-”

“Shut up.” Toji hisses through gleaming, clenched teeth. Gone. Bosomy tip French kissing pinpricks of pre into your g-spot with every quiver of your high, and no matter how much you’re clenching your glutinous walls around him, he’s still driving out and in through the resistance so solidly deep. “Told you- told you.”

Before you can snipe back, his palm roughly plummets down on the sweaty crown of your head. Forcing you to bite on a mouthful of satiny pillowcase, forcing you to shut up. 

To shut up so that he can slouch back and loll his greedy gaze to your gulping cunt, aftershocks of your orgasm so strong that he could count every time your saturated folds twitched. And he did count. 

Five times in all before grumbling, “Told ‘er- didn’t I, p-pretty girl?” Not at you - but at your sloppy pussy. Who seemed more than happy to talk back in wet squelches upon squelches every time he was poking his veins into your gushing entrance. “Yeah- yeahhh I did, you’re so right.”

“Toji mmpf-”

“Wanted it rough, s-so now you’re gonna get it.” Toji’s every word rips out in a primal growl, and you feel your creaking bed snap! somewhere in the distance. Broken. A foot making its lecherous home on your head, hard. “Brace yourself, doll.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Jealousy, jealousy

“P-please.” You’re whispering with your jaw hanging foolishly open, warbly tone right on the verge of breaking because your husband’s in so deep. So…insatiable. “You can be ngh- rougher today, Ken—”

“R-rougher?” Nanami’s echo comes out ragged, carnal. As strained as his sanity was beginning to feel right now when you were underneath him and begging so prettily like this. He dips a sensual peck near one of your ankles dangling off of his sculptured shoulders, “I don’t want to hurt you, my love. Or leave any marks that…” Pearly whites clenching, seethingly. “-others can see.”

And oh, Nanami Kento was a gentleman. Nanami Kento was patient with you. 

Always. 

But not with any touchy new co-worker of yours that just-so-happened to hang around you way too fucking often for his taste. 

No, one singular mention of him and he’d dragged you to your shared bedroom to bend you into a filthy, filthy mating press until your melty, cotton-filled brain had completely n’ utterly forgotten just how your day had gone.

Until you were fidgeting the doughy heels of your feet against his curvaceous back muscles, “B-but I want it, baby.” Spit-shimmering lips automatically pulling into one of his weaknesses: your pout. “I want you t-to make me yours.”

At this, Nanami flinches. 

He blushes - a cute blossomy red that scorches across his cheeks and all the way to the tips of his ears, already drenched with thin ribbons of sweat. 

With a deeeep gulp, he croaks out. “...M-mine.” Swallowing a webbed mass of saliva that waters his tastebuds once. Twice. Before tenderly cupping your boneless legs and smearing them so wiiidely agape that they start to burn. Just the mere sinful action makes your pussylips let off a soppy squelch! “Arch f’me then, darling.”

You’re blinking, buzzing eardrums unsure of what you’d oh-so-clearly just heard departing Nanami’s parted lips. “What?”

“Didn’t tell you to question me. Did I, my love?” He hisses, the very fringe of his mouth curling into a sleazy grin at your adorably shocked expression. Rovering down to palm your lower tummy, opened flat and pressed against that thick, cylindrical outline he was fucking into you hard. “Better.”

Oh…he was feeling himself inside you. Caressing your tummy bulge with sheer loving, making your gluey walls stick to his solidly ridged shaft like you were keeping him hostage. 

“Who s’fucking you deep inside?” He flicks the curved mushroom tip bumping through you, dabbing every inch inside you. Sleazy. Sloppy. Molten eyes half-shuttering until he looks so ruined. Fuck. “Who? Me or him?”

Your eyes blearily cross and uncross, the pressure of it so much. “Wh-who- who’s him-”

“Talking about another man when you’re with me,?”

Before you can gather your bearings, before you can even gasp in a lungful of shocked air at the gesture - Nanami shocks your throb-throb-throbbing clit with a sloooow drag of his metallic wedding ring. Smudging a cute, wettened heart right where you were the utmost sensitive. 

“Pleeease-”

“Speak up.”

“I want-”

“Hmmm…what was that?” He’s striking the bulging patch of your g-spot with an achy glide of his bawling wet divot as soon as you open your mouth. Nanami was shutting you up with his fat, vein-covered cock not just once, not just twice- but three whole times before humming. “My apologies. Can’t hear you over ngh- her, darling.”

How could you ever underestimate just how strong your husband was? How rough he could really be. 

Thickened, meaty thighs flex in tightened knots once his hips drive into yours viciously. Every harrowed pap! of his tawny happy trail scratching your slobbery folds open and leaving your mouth parched. 

Whack after whack of his plump, split-ended tip scraping your magical spots expertly. And you couldn’t even predict when the next recurring strike would commence because your dazed eyes were sprinting all the way to the back of your head. 

You could count eight of his Herculean abs in total, all of them cutting into your front and working to pin down your squirming hips. To stop you from getting more more more- “Fuuuck me. J-just want more-”

“Hmmm?”

“Ngh- I said m-more!” You yelp, breaths turning desperate and wheezing once he scrambles - scrambles - over the dewy, rumpled-up bedsheets to recover his favorite yellowy tie. 

Immediately looping it around your delicate neck. Your fluttery lungs fight for gaspfuls of air once he’s leveraging it to drag you alllll the way up off of the claggy pillows- he was bringing you to him.

“Now, whisper it nicely in my hah- ear, my wife. Tell me exactly what you want.” Nanami’s panted puffs cloud your brain with heat and need and him. Before you know it, you’re already nudging your lolled head up to his ear. “There we go, upsy daisy. That’s a good girl.”

And all you can manage out is a slow, simpering gasp of syllables that sounded something like more!

But that’s all it takes.

All it takes for him to reel his greedy hips back, back, back until the very crown of his bloated cock was smooching your ringed hole. Spraying out sheen after sheen of sweltering hot pre that coats your cunt n’ slides right inside.

Timed exactly with the pace that Nanami himself picks up, barrelling out battering rams that indent his rotund circumference into your spongy cervix. 

“Mhmmm, knew I’d h-have ya begging f’me–” Nanami coos something gravelly, holding your weakened head up to nuzzle sweet peck after peck on your lips. Shit, he’s even taking dirty lappings of the puddles of drool geysering from past your slack mouth. “Me. Me- right?” 

“Y-yes.” You’re yelping once his relentless digits tighten on his tie, cutting off your winded breaths. Choking you. “You- you, Kento.”

Soft, padded fingers just finish drawing an obvious NK on your hooded nub- was he writing his name on your clit? “That’s riiiight, s’Kento. Kento’s here for you, my love.” Punctured with sappy snogs - on your lips, inside your leaking pussy. “Kento, no one else.”

“Ngh- n-no one else.” Tiny whimpers crack within your throat when you feel the swampy splat! of slick pouring more n’ more out of you and drenching him from abdomen to his twitching ballsack. Babbling, “You- Kennn—”

“Cute- mine. You’re my wife.”

“All yours.”

“H-heh, bet ya can’t even remember now- What was damn fucker- coworker’s name again?”

“Oh.” Nanami almost asks you to marry him all over again at the way your brows have to furrow, head shaking from side to cockdrunken side to clear your poor lil’ head. It takes a copious vicious pounds into the mattress to even recall the answer to his question. “Right! He said his name was Zayne…from Linkon City.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - “Ya like that?”

Fuck- if the way whines pour from your overflooded lips wasn’t enough of an answer, then the syrupy slick constantly leaking out of you sure was. 

Your bawling cunt was all but having a conversation with Geto, all stuttered slurps n’ squelches that rung like music within his red-tipped ears. And he’s lurching his head in a sudden nod, pearly white teeth all on gleaming display when he ogles a fat dollop of sap and spit slithering down your thighs slooowly.

“Y-yes!” You’re crawling towards the shuddering mahogany headboard, ringing with violent creaks after every pound. “Yes yes yes- I like it, Suguru–”

“Heh, fuuuuck yeah you do.” He doesn’t even bat an eye before hooking a hand on your waist and dragging you all the way back down. “S’supposed to be a punishment but yer such a slut when you’re hck! thrown around.” Smooching a frosty thumb all down your silvery slit, he snickers once he feels your cute insides clench on instinct around him. “Then again…”

Without a singular warning, without even a shred of hesitation, a firm arm roams over to your throat. Tight. 

But Geto doesn’t just hold you- no, that would’ve been much too nice for him. Instead, he’s pushing the curvy mounds of his biceps ‘round your pretty neck like some sort of necklace - trapping you in a fucking headlock. 

You’re plastered like glue against his glissading front, and you think you’ve never been wetter as you’re massaged by his ridged abs. Thin trailways of boiling hot sweat streaming between his cushy pecs and hitting at your backside with a plap! plap! plap!

Voice hoarse in your ear. Low. “There we go. Theeeeere we go. How about this? Ngh- ya like-” Squeezing his arm even tighter until bursts of remaining air leave your lungs. You could feel every twitch, every flex of toned flesh hot against your own. “-that?”

A sob lets off from your stupidly unhinged lips, “Y-yes– I like it-”

“Greedy fuckin’ girls shouldn’t answer.” He’s promptly cutting you off, both with his deep bass and his deeper strokes. Immediately oozing a tiny heart of sticky pre inside, “I was hah- talking to my lady down here.”

You practically shiver at the feeling of his burnished lilac eyes coursing down to your prettily dripping cunt, and just at that moment he hits your cervix with a sloshing spank. 

Filthy. 

A thumb dips down to pry your treacly folds apart, Geto’s pinkish tongue slobbering down his grinning lips at the sight of you swallowing him like mad. The sight of your arched back dappling with perspiration after every vulgar swerve of your hips trying to keep up with his. Needy. 

“Mmmm yeah. She’s ngh- likin’ it alright. Look at her-” Sickly sweet strands of juices dangle off of his padded fingers like gum, so wet that his wrist gleams glossily. He just can’t help but lurch his head over to streamline a viscid web of saliva right on your sloppy hole, “-she’s a damn waterpark f’me.”

You keen at the back of your throat, spittle spraying a sheen all over Geto’s veiny forearm with a splash! “S-so mean, Sugu–”

“Mean? Mean?” 

Something resounds like a growl at the back of your boyfriend’s throat, and only numerous sticky swats of his rounded balls later do you realize - that was a giggle. A giggle. 

“H-hear that? My girl’s sayin’ I’m mean.” Another thwack of weepy spit hits your cunt, and the saccharine sweet gasp you take is delicious. Headlocking you tighter- “Oh, gorgeous. You asked to be punished with it r-rough. And you’re ah- getting it- fucking- rough-”

Rasping and ragged and gone. Utterly gone. 

If this was supposed to be a punishment then you’d gladly take more.

Geto was pounding into you viciously now, rattling your cottony brain with every sharp slap of his fattened crownhead. Probing deeply into your warm innards to spread apart tender nooks and crannies you didn’t even know existed. 

You were nodding like a stupid bobblehead, letting his veiny cock bloat n’ balloon up inside you- shit, the banging flesh where your ass met his silky pubes was rubbed raw by now.

A hoarse bark of laughter flees Geto’s lips once he realizes, immediately angling his rude pelvis just so he can grind purposefully against your agitated skin. It’s so cute the way your moans pitch even deafeningly higher at the texture. 

Sliding his strawberry pink divot juuuust off your magical spot, he rolls his eyes. “Seeeee? N’ you s-say I’m mean.”

At that very moment, you think you’re seeing stars. The only sensations ripping through your mind being the Earth-shattering cadence that Geto was fucking into you, and the soft tickle of his long, beautiful locks curtaining your spine.

You’re tugging mindlessly on one of his inky tendrils, dazed peripherals sliding to a flushed Geto. That split-second of direct eye contact enough to make his base swell- “P-pretty.”

Oh, fuck.

Fuck.

With a wicked slam! Geto’s both burying himself inside till the very hilt - straining your rubbery walls until you were whining at the hefty weight of him - and burying your face into the cushy pillow. His savage palm clawing and clawing at your head while he fucking cums, in the filthiest and most surprising way that fills your gooey cunt until you were overspilling. 

Just from that. 

“P-pull my hair-” He gasps - just barely audible enough that once you do, it makes a creamy coating of even more ribbony seed slip into your entrance. More and more and more. A steaming hot mess that makes you squirm-

“No. No.” Geto gasps - he begs. 

And you don’t think he even registers that he’s promptly slamming a firm foot down on your head to pin you pliably down and make you take it. 

This newer angle floods your orifice with such generous helpings that Geto feels his taste buds drench in water, sighing lovingly at the sight of your inner thighs being glued together by his sap. 

He’s stepping your head even deeper into the sullied pillowcase once he hears you snicker. Shutting you up. Meaty thighs shivering, emptied balls twitching sensitively at the slap of saliva he spits once more on your entrance. 

Gritting through furiously clenched teeth, “Oh, you are s-so getting hngh! pregnant tonight, gorgeous.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - OLFACTORY ETHICS?!

“B-baby…” Choso’s sharp canines snaggle on the drenched fabric of your panties, broad chest heaving in ragged huffs! as your roommate gulps in a deeeep inhale- and his mouth just drops. “Oh, baby.”

You smelled so sweet. 

His favorite perfume - so good that it makes his pearly whites clench down and bite. 

He’s smearing his favorite pair of your pretty pink silk all down the lower half of his handsome face, where it’d mostly glued to ever since you’d caught him stealing your underwear not too long ago. 

Where it’d been since he’d blushed n’ begged for you to punish him.

And you’d known exactly how. 

“Just fuck me, Cho–” You’re crooning, the pretty sound of your voice itching something deeply primal in his mind and making him twitch. Full-bodied. Making his achingly hard cock bulge a few millimeters even wider n’ girthier, carnally desperate. “Fuuuuck— C’mon now- you can do it.”

“L-like this?” He’s whispering, all muffled and breathy. Darkened mahogany eyes lock in direct contact with yours as he’s rubbing the ridges of his veined shaft along the sticky slope of your pussy. “Tell me- use me.”

“Mhmm— you’ve got it, baby. Rough now, m’kay?” 

“R-rough…”

Slipping and sliding, his hips feel frenzied already. Tapping out a few fat globs of pre from that slobbering orifice nestled on top of his crownhead, Choso can’t help but thumb each bead past your sloppy hole.  

“G-gonna fuck you now.” He’s hiccuping out cloudy syllables, piping hot bursts of air that fan your face and make you shiver. And he notices, oh, he notices and flushes. “Gonna fuck- fuck you, baby…”

Choso’s jaw remains almost permanently unhinged as he watches his globular tip push past your teensy resistance, the clingy surface of your cunt molding and melting around him. Hot. Puffed-up pussy lips stretched wiiidely agape, your hole quivers with every one of his prominent veins scraping their way inside. 

A whine cracks at the back of his throat-

Shit, was this heaven?

Through half-lidded peripherals he’s stealing looks your way to confirm that you weren’t actually an angel. 

Wet tongue lolling out to give your leaky mouth a big kiss, “S’this- this-” And just then Choso’s rumbling baritone is so hot that it makes you clench - and him to jerk into a rut- 

He really was out of control now. 

“Oh.” He’s trailing off, hitting the damp ends of your pussy and he fucking sees white. Every inch that you’re flawlessly gulping down making him swoon into you, “Ohhhh fuck wait- fuck fuck fuck—”

Hard. 

Fast. 

Choso was sloppy, letting his sensory tips dangle near your hips while he bludgeoned you with every sultry second. Using his lean muscular strength to pull your ass down to slap n’ slap against his pelvis. 

Pumping his probing mushroom tip deeper until you swear you could taste every sappy ribbon of milky precum he was pounding into you. Until his sculpted abs were being struck ruby red at the stinging drives.

“This good? M’I good for you?” He makes such a messy puddle of slick pour from between your bloated folds, hitting a fat thumb over the gloopy mess. Your buzzing ears ring with the wet pap! “S’this r-rough, baby?”

“Fuck- ngh- f-fuuuuck, Choso—” Truthfully, you could barely even speak. The only thing able to escape your mouth being jumbles of fucked-out syllables and gluey drool. You whimper with each whack of his fat cock, “Faster-” 

Combing through Choso’s silky bangs, you tug away the stray strands plastered to his sweat-slicked forehead. An action enough to make him burn as bright red as his sobbing tip, leaning further into yours with his utterly ripped front. 

“M-more, baby.”

It’s the only thing that’s falling from your lips before nothing else can anymore. 

Because your dear roommate is taking the kindly time to slap over his palm on top of your mouth - sodden panties and all. 

Damn, was it a sight that made his dewy cockhead twitch dangerously in warning. 

Muffling your lecherous words with the stringy scrap of fabric, he grumbles. “Sh-shut up, baby- another word out of you n’ I ngh! w-won’t last much longer.”

Though- fuck, if he wasn’t weak whenever it came to you.

Because as he feels your steamy maw loosen - droplets of spit dripping down to lather his doughy palm - Choso finds himself inching in closer. Bubblegum pink nipples rubbing sensitively against your front when he leans in and listens-

You’re batting your lashes up at him, “Want- want it all inside, Cho.”

Oh. 

Oh, and when Choso cums it’s with his pussydrunken head buried into the delicate crook of your neck, sharp fringes of his teeth sinking so roughly into the side of your urgent pulse that you think it might draw iron-tasted blood. 

“T-take it.” His voice lilts unstably a few octaves higher, massive hands manhandling the legs looping his feet - pushing and pushing and pushing until your capped knees hit your tits. Veins popping out of his own neck, hard. “Every last fucking drop.”

It’s burst after burst. 

The curving globe of his plump head batters out stripes of hot cum with every single thrust, drilling right past the gluey maze of your walls to leave syrupy white splotches on your cervix that you feel coat your cunt in a sloppy second skin. Messy. 

You claw your hands down Choso’s flexing back and it makes his eyes burst with white-hot stars of pleasure. “Yeah- yeah. I-inside, baby- don’t miss.”

Hypnotically, he drags the simmering pads of his tongue right along your all-new bite mark. Possessive. The entrails of your panties still dangling haphazardly from one side of your mouth-

Choso feels his heart race when he bites down on the silken edges; letting it stretch stretch stretch before he spits your slutty underwear aside.

“Oh, baby.” Snogging away the wires of spit that sliver from between your lips, “Was- was that rough ‘nough.” He murmurs in concern against your lips, eyes daring to dart all over his animalistic marking. And then he slouches backwards to tilt further down. “Didn’t wanna-”

He takes one heartbeat - two - simply staring at the frosty ivory rings of cum that spilled out of your pussy. A mess that he had to blame for.

And when Choso looks back up at you, it’s through pure heart eyes. “A-actually, I don’t think that was ngh- rough enough, baby…”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Pony.

“Mmmm- my human’s always so sweet.” Sukuna’s sheeny glossed lips pry apart the heated folds between your legs, his long sultry tongue lapping up every bead n’ ribbon of cum pouring out of your cunt. “Sooo fuckin’ sweet.”

And just as monstrously big as his height was, his tongue was certainly not to disappoint. 

You yelp once the split-ended pads of his tastebuds swirl allll the way inside your dripping pussy, round and round. Poking and prodding into sweet geysering spots that he knew would make your pretty lil’ mind useless. 

One big, beefy hand of his roams up to curl around your throat and keep your dazed eyes dead locked on the slicked mess the king was making out of your sugary sweet pussy. Unmoving. 

“Y-you’re so…” You’re drawling, words so drunken that it’s like they were clinging to your hoarse throat. Your mouth simply hangs at the sight of Sukuna constricting his tongue to let creamy oodles of his seed from hours before sliiiiide all down to his parched throat like a runway. “-filthy, Kuna.”

“H-heh.”

He doesn’t get up until you’re all thoroughly cleaned up, every dollop of thick cum lapped away from your overstimulated entrance.  

Hell, you don’t even think Sukuna can think until he pulls away with a drenched plop! Stringy cobwebs of fluids sticking to his face as if some sort of lipgloss. 

A bulky second hand of his leaves a spank right on your throbbing clit, and within the blink of an eye you’re being scooped up into Sukuna’s arms. Nestled right against his cushy pecs - his two achingly hard cocks-

And when he kisses you it’s a reminder - letting your maw slide over the caramel salted splotches homed inside his mouth. Savoring it just as much as he was savoring you. 

Just as much as he wanted to ruin you.

Your spine arches with a scorched breeze as he inches in to grunt against your ear. Low. Prowling. “Callin’ me filthy when you’re the one leaking with my cum, brat.”

“W-well, not anymore because- fuck!”

“Quarrelsome.” He remarks over your shrill wails, toned muscles on his thighs flexing when he grabs the sweaty crown of your head and pushes you down, down, down onto his rock-hard dicks. Every gust of your heady breaths fucked out of you with just a few swallowed inches of his looong vein-decorated shafts. “I should fuck that outta ya.”

He’s bouncing his tattooed legs in a quick, harsh one-two one-two one-two. Panting, leering at the primal squeeeealch–! that rings in his ears.

Capped fringes of his knees smack against the sexy curve of your ass, the relentless little motions push past that tiny resistance and swivel Sukuna’s proudly swollen crowns all ‘round your bruised insides. 

Bulging you open, prying your sticky insides apart until he had you seated all prettily on his lap and whimpering.

“Ride it then, pretty mama. Show me what that ngh- needy human pussy can do.” Sukuna grumbles through a teeth-clenched lil’ grin, halfway through breaking into a soppy smile when your cute noises only get louder. He slouches backwards into the centuries-old headrest so that he won’t miss a single second of your sensual show, “N’ remember- I like fucking rough. I like fucking hard.”

“R-rough?” You rest your hands on his broad shoulders, gulping needily at the way his corded muscles flex underneath your touch. Legs already twitching as you swerve needily, aching once more for that splitting sensation of him plunging oh-so-deep inside. “Fuck- fuuuuuck, Kuna-”

You could already feel the fat bulbs of his tips grow even fuller, snagging right onto the crevices of your g-spot and tugging. He barely even has to try to make your head fill with stupid fuzz.

“Ya call this rough, lil’ human?” He’s spitting into your open mouth, grabbing a handful of your ass and making your clit smear down his tufts of curly pink. Gyrating n’ gyrating. “Seriously- s’embarrassing the king.”

“Th-then you-”

Just at that moment, he’s digging two hands on either side of your hips to slam! them down onto his. Hard. Stinging. Rubbing over the tenderized globeful of your ass before doing it again. Again. And again and again and-

“This is h-how ya fuck rough, pretty mama.” You swear Sukuna’s smirked grin was glistening with a thin trail of dumbstruck drool. “Feel good? Feel the sting? The way m’all deep inside-” Staring down at your cute, cross-eyed expression, he taps a plumply padded finger halfway down your tummy. “-here?”

You’re overstimulated, sensitive. The only thing you can do is nod. Nodding and nodding while a flash of smugness flickers in his crimson eyes. “Count.”

Oh? Oh.

And it’s only when his two matching cocks plant vicious pounds right where he’d marked - only when he slurs out a wet stripe of pre that drenches your pussy from the inside out - that you realize what he meant.

“O-one-”

“Too late. Two.” 

Sukuna grits out, practically mocking you. Numbering away every time his bawling divots were whacking your spongy cervix. The lightning-bolted veins on his lengths scrape every carnal spot he could reach - which was all of them.

“Three- ah! Four.” You mewl out, legs scrambling to latch around his tensing core when you’re struck with another one, two, three bludgeons of his girthy circumferences. It’s enough to make you dizzy, and it’s purely on autopilot that you let off soft gasps of, “Si- s-seven?”

Snickering, “Yer finally haaaah- gettin’ it.” The cushioned mattress rings with creak after creak as he repeatedly bucks. “Put yer back into it, brat.” 

“Ngh! Eight-”

“Mhm.”

“N-nine…”

“Mhm.”

Your papping flesh stings at the ferocious contact, already rubbed raw that when Sukuna swats a rude palm against your pussymound - you find yourself sobbing. Big, fat tears of salt, “Ten!”

“Nuh uh- that counts as hah- eleven.” 

Fuck- he has to stop himself from snickering. He has to stop himself from drooling through both cracked mouths, already missing the taste of you. If you looked closely, you could see the cursed mouth across his abs licking its lips greedily. Grinning. “Now cum f’me before I put my tongue in, too.”

♡ INO TAKUMA - Blush blush blush!

“Here?”

“Taku.”

“Or here?”

“Takuuu–!”

“Orrrrr–” Ino’s tossing his chestnut bangs out of his face to see your cute face better, snickering to himself as he lets his ramming cockhead draw a looong wet trailway to your cervix. Sweltering hot and heavy, slithering right past your precious g-spot. “-here?”

Your gooey walls twitch instinctively around him. “N-noooo-”

Pressing down. Hard. “What’s that? Oh yeah, here. Right?”

You’re huffing and puffing something that sounds like a quivering ‘please’, wobbly lips bitten between the ends of your teeth until Ino pries them free n’ sucks. 

“Hmmm. What was that?” His drenched, bawling divot rubs out a fat thud! mere millimeters above where you were aching for him the most. Again. Purposefully. 

“S-so mean.” You whimper for just about the nth time tonight as his deeply probing dick pushes against your gummy walls, stretching out the hidden crevices. Prominent veins almost massaging your magical spots but not quite. Tease. “All I did was c-call you ngh- pretty.”

Fuck, there it is again.

And it doesn’t matter how many times the very syllables have departed from your unsteady lips - Ino Takuma still blushed a cute, maidenly pink from apples of his handsome cheeks right down to his collarbones.

Breath hitching, nose bridge crinkling. If he was any weaker man he might just have cum—

He whacks the spherical bulge of his plumpened cockhead into you until your peripherals are teary. Hefty balls so fat that you feel the side of them flinch tenderly against your dripping cunt.

“Sh-shut up.” He’s shivering, teeth grit to stop himself from slipping out a strained keen. Those pretty fawn eyes of Ino’s slide all the way to the back of his throat when you slink a hand underneath the dark ski mask capped on his crown n’ caress. “Gonna- gonna fuck you until you haaah- forget that, sweetness. Gonna fuck you dumb.”

Your awestruck tastebuds fizzle with the taste of his splattered precum sloshing! inside you, watery trickles of saliva travelling all the way down to where your chin was smushed against your chest.

Where Ino was folding you into a mating press so tight that you could feel your ears pop after every pressurized thrust. 

He was being so…frenzied. 

Manhandling you to every whim and want, you were fallen onto the bedsheets delicately whilst he handled you like some ragdoll. And you’d never seen him act this vehement, this filthy, clapping his toned thighs noisily against yours. 

“N’ for that…” His sing-song bass tickles the precious soft spots near your neck, rearing to give your molten tongue tiny suckles. “M’not hittin’ that c-cute g-spot any time tonight.” 

It wasn’t simply a threat - he meant it.

He was stroking the slick-glittered mushroom head of his shaft over n’ over into every nook and cranny inside of you except your g-spot. Every rut so greedy that his buttery streaks of pre were piling on near that particular orifice. 

Drowning you.

Ino feels his heart race at the sultry little jitters you give him; your poor body torn between digging your heels into his tense shoulders and pushing him away or pap-pap-papping your ass down for more. 

“Now now, where are you goinggg—” He doesn’t waste any fucking time rounding a hand behind his head and lassoing you ankles within a few slender digits. Trapping you. Dragging you until the backs of your thighs were clapping in a standing ovation against his. “Fuck that pussy back. C’mon. C’mon, pretty.”

“P-pleeeease, Taku-” You can’t even bring yourself to be an ounce ashamed at the whiny pleas that invade your voice. “S-so close, baby- want it. Want it so bad.”

“Fuh-fuck…” He’s breathing out, mouth drier than a desert at the way you had him so weak. His prominent hip bones pat down your pelvis and leave your mouth gasping into perfect ohs! “Fuckin’ evil ya are. How bad do you want it?”

“S-soooo badly.”

“Hmmm, I dunno- where are those manners?”

“Please!”

“Hmmm?”

Oh, how he could feel his abs tense dangerously at the mixture of annoyance and depravity twisting your beautiful face.

“...w-with a cherry on ngh- top.”

“Mhm, n’ you’re gonna take it nicely?” Ino spreads your legs open a little wider, rocking and rocking. And you’re so wet - even wetter than the splattering pools of slick spittle that splosh out of your other set of lips. So sensitive. “Take it like my pretty c-cockslut?” 

You can’t mumble out anything through the thickly rounded fingertips that smush your cheeks together into a pout he almost finds adorable. “Y-yesh— give it t’me, pleeease?”

Fine. And then he does it - finally gives you exactly what you’ve been craving carnally all this time. Striking it right on the bullseye, like you knew he could.

Just a bump up of his plump, curvaceous tip into your splotchy g-spot and you’re halfway through screaming. Struggling and struggling your legs jerkily at the bolting shocks of your orgasm and Ino just doesn’t let up.

He keeps your ankles locked no matter how much you fidget, he keeps the vicious push of his leaking cock into your most favorite spots like it was a button. 

Fuck, it was almost too much.

Gritting his teeth through the sloshing figure-eights your hips swerve through every peak of your high, you’re milking yourself on his throbbing shaft so good that Ino forces himself to tip a hand towards his cottony mask and pull down-

“Taku–?” You’re questioning out in warbly tones once your vision was being blinked back, high tapering out into flimsy tingles that still manage to make your toes curl. 

Before you can stop yourself, your sensory pads flit over to his ski mask to tug away. And boy, were you fucking glad for that.

Because you’d never seen Ino so flushed. So ruined. 

He was like a picture. A red, red gale overtaking his twitching features ‘nough that you could connect the constellations of his freckles.

Caramel brows furrowed tightly knit, tawny lashes flapping his eyelids almost shut. His cherry pink lips looked so kissable; swollen and glossed in slimy spit and- and overstimulated tears.

All ready and awaiting the way you drag him back by the hair and gift his pinkish tongue with a wad of spit. Groaning.  

“My pretty boy.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - Starboy

You’re stuffed.

So stuffed with heaps upon heaps of Gojo’s slick cum and yet he was still possessing a massive hand clawing at your hips. The only thing holding you fucking upright while he drills his overworked cock into you, furiously. 

“T-Tooru—” Your sentence punctures with every hitch of your wheezing lungs, and you can barely see two inches in front of you let alone swivel your head back to stare at the strongest. Keening groggily, “How are you s-still even hck! going?”

He doesn’t answer. Fuck, you don’t even think he can even hear you right now.

But the way your voice pitches into a pretty whine makes him flinch. Buckling on your knobbly knees, you can feel the steamed handprints imprinted on either side of your papping mounds of flesh. 

Dizzy peripherals flickering to the side you gasp- he was leaving scorching hot marks on you. All nice, shapely lengths of his five digits. 

Gojo’s snickering- snickering through one of his ragged scoffs, and he rests his towering bodyweight until it was lounging on the base of your cutely arched spine. He’s shivering. Strained. “S’not enough.” 

Not enough? 

And at this point, your muddled mind is overtaken with the dawning realization that nothing might be enough for a freshly-unsealed Gojo Satoru.

Even though his raw cock was so red n’ swollen already, pulsing out inside you to the same ba-dump–! of your pulse rate. The fat lightning bolts of his veins angle oh-so-deeply against your g-spot. Everywhere and anywhere. 

And Gojo only has to trace a few greedy fingers down to feel the dewy trickles of seed that dribble out from your puffed lips like a waterfall. Ogling his lustrously glazed limbs and gasping-

Your mouth drowns in a fresh lamination of syrupy saliva at the way it makes your thighs slap together as if they were held by glue. Gojo’s bulky base endlessly decorating with more and more creamy strings of sappy cum - and then some.

“I-I’m serious…” You’re blurting out, both hands fisting the drenched silken sheets in front of you. You keep your gaze locked on the way he’s pummeling behind you and find yourself rendered almost spellbound. “-m-might not even fit-”

“Limitless void, sweetheart.” He’s cutting you off smoothly, blushing red crownhead twitching up eagerly with just the lecherous thought. Breathless, fuck- he was so far gone he could barely even choke out an answer. “Be my c-cum…dump.”

It takes you one violent thwack - two - of his sloppy, succulent shaft poking messily into your deepest innards for you to realize what he meant. He wanted to use limitless void on your needy cunt. And then an exact three-second spank to your clit for you to wonder whether he was already doing that.

Because Gojo’s doughy soft fingertips leave your body jolted, miniscule tendrils of blue lightning slithering all across your spilling pussy. 

“Toru- are you already…”

“O-oh.” He didn’t even realize. 

Your eyes roll back at the buzzing sensation of his cursed technique sprinting down your perfectly curved spine, repeatedly pounding hips twitching involuntarily. Vicious. 

“I w-wan’’ that.” You admit, the rooound plumpness of his tip swabbing at your g-spot precisely and making you more honest than ever. Bulbous tears formulate near your fluttering waterline, “Want it. Want it so bad- pleeease, Sato- mmpf-”

And you’re not sure if it’s the sorcerer’s superhuman reflexes or your cockdrunken mind - but it’s almost as if you’ve instantaneously teleported into Gojo’s broad, beefy arms. 

“F-fuuuuck–! Toru, it’s so much- ngh- it’s soooo much.” 

You try to jostle yourself, to perhaps run from the overwhelming cadence. But he doesn’t let you even budge. Of course, he doesn’t.

He was so rough. Using you. 

One of his hands shackled to your hips like superglue, kneading filthy handfuls of your ass while he guides you to meet every pound. The other snugly curled around your throat, the only thing holding you upright - the only thing pinning you to him. 

This all-new angle helping him maze deeper, deeper, deeper inside of you until it felt like he was permanently prying your jelly-soft walls open. The slosh! of his drizzled cum pouring lazily out of you, it was almost as heavenly as the feeling of Gojo’s chiseled abs sloping down your back.

He’s whispering in your ear, pitchy and rasping. “Yeah? Yeah?” His pearly white teeth nibble softly on your tender lobe, every sharp exhale of breath striking you swelteringly hot. “T-take- cumdump- take-”

The warm clinginess of your pussy has reduced the great Gojo Satoru to stuttering. 

“A-all inside” Your head lolls foolishly backwards into the cushioned comfort of his pecs, just slightly slipping on the sweaty sheen covering his muscles. You bat your tear-dipped lashes up at him, “Wan’ it all inside- o-okay, Toru?”

His response departs in a breathless gasp, “Okay.”

And when Gojo cums he makes sure that his girl is not even a second far behind. 

Throwing his head back with the most pornographic, draaaagged out call of your name- he wastes no time drenching his long, long fingers in a splat! of webbed saliva and pinching your clit. 

It’s like an explosion, it’s like you burst with the nth high of tonight - your rubbery walls milking Gojo’s length completely dry with the intensity, your body shuddering, heart thumping so hard you think you bet Gojo could hear it.

And he was even worse.

“S-sweetheart-” Gojo grits his teeth so hard that you hear them clink! Murked heaves are so solidly condensed that you think you can almost see them. Weighted hips clapping against your ass in a sloppy recurring plap-plap-plap. “My girl, m-my…cumdump.”

Your toes curl the moment you feel his thick, ribbony knots of seed overflood your insides. Waves upon waves upon waves of it caking in with the rest of his excess remnants, so heavy that you can feel it tenderly stroke your most sweetest spots. 

Almost too much.

The lights had shattered ages ago, and right now the both of you are so far gone that you don’t even hear the bits of loose furniture in Gojo’s bedroom fall to the floor with dull thuds! 

A milky white ring sugarcoats Gojo’s ivory pubic hair, making his silky texture leave wet streaks across your stinging ass. Ones that make him leap from hoarse and dumbstruck straight into babbling helplessly. 

Completely drunk on you. 

“My girl- my cumdump.” Broad arms wrap around your fatigued body. “My girl my girl my giiirl– oh, my girl.” Before Gojo gifts your bruised mouth with a tiny peck, loving. “D’you know what a-a mating press is?”

♡ HIGURUMA HIROMI - OH BABY, BABY…

The broiling bathtub water sloshes over each ceramic side, almost as wet as the silvery oodles of sap that just kept on pouring out from your pussy. Churning n’ smearing so vehemently that Higuruma can’t help but lift your legs up higher to take a longer look.

Admiring, honestly. 

“Isn’t this niiiiice?” He’s grunting out low into the cute lobe of your ear, your hips wriggling needily with every vibration rumbling from his broad best. So close that you could smell the flowery spuds of soap and his masculine natural musk. It was addictive. 

“A hot bath, n’ my hot wife-” Oh, you can already hear the smirk in his tonality. “-in a hot f-full nelson to boot.”

“Ngh! Hirooo–!” Your weeping whimpers babble out without you even knowing, the masses of your ass grinding vulgarly back into his prominent hipbones. “F-fuck me already.”

“Impatient impatient.” He tuts, “And why should I?”

“B-because I wan’ you—” 

You’re garbling out the prettiest noises, but that wouldn’t be enough to stop his vengeful teasing. Quirking a sleek, black brow. “Aaaand?” He loved this look on you, of course. All greedy n’ desperate. 

Though…little did your dear husband know that you had a secret weapon tonight. 

“And I want a baby.” You’re finishing off. Smug. 

Higuruma freezes. Higuruma gulps, “A-a what?”

“A baby, Higu.”

“A…baby.”

“Mhmm– ah!”

The yelp that departs your mouth in a sudden rush is solely because of the way that he latches his calloused fingertips onto the small of your back like a steering wheel and pulls you down down down. 

Greeting your sloppy entrance with pearly ribbons of pre and a sharp slap of his fat head.

“C-can’t just say shit like that out of your pussy, sugar, n’ ngh!” His gravelly tone punctures every pumped inch pinpricking inside of you. You feel so pliant letting him pry apart your deepest mushiest walls, “-not expect ta end up pregnant.”

Your hands scramble towards the smooth ends of the bathtub to keep yourself grounded onto something - anything. 

But, ah- Higuruma was selfish for your attention. And he ends up guiding your roaming palms up to his damp cocoa hair, letting you pullll through your bouts of adrenaline however you pleased. “Fuck- fuuuck jus’ like that, Hiromi.”

“I know, I know how to fuck my ngh- wife proper, angel.” He slicks his tongue out to lap at a beaded droplet of water running down your neck. Staring through half-lidded eyes, “You just sit- back- n’ take- it-”

Your eyes comically cross and uncross repeatedly with every whacked slam Higuruma plunges into your gooey depths. A sharp, stubborn one-two that leaves your ass rubbed raw from his happy trail so dark that it was almost black.

And he wasn’t easing you in- oh, not even in the least.

He was hard. Rough.

Rugged pounds so much more vicious than usual, you swear he was battering a bruise the same thick circumference as his plummy crownhead. And his tempo was juuuust enough to force the cracks of your mouth to fill up with treacly drool - not urgent, not slow. Simply precise, loooong fucks of his mean length.

You swear your very cunt was being molded to every puffy vein and ridge decorating his shaft, and the mercilessly massaging texture was enough to drive you wild.

You’re clinging onto his velveteen locks with one hand, and his big, bulging biceps with the other. “Ngh- Hiromi- i-it feels so good-” Clawing and rutting your way through every creamy mess of pre he was slipping past your ballooned-up folds. “You’re in so deep.” 

“Oh, you don’t know the half of it.”

And, fuck, your husband didn’t like to see you wasting even those gummy slatherings of precum he was rewarding you. 

You’re feeling the round-tipped ends of his fingers caress the saturated seam of your pussylips and pinch. Holding your dewy cunt tightly closed while he was bound to fill you up - so much so that he promised you were going to overspill.

“Gonna be s-soooo much fucking rounder n’ bigger when I fucking breed ya. Riiiight-” Higuruma hiccups, long lashes tickling across his clammy cheeks at the ever-tightening hug of your pussy. Free hand skimming down to measure out a loooong distance between your gulping hole and where he was hitting his pre-capped head into your cervix. “-there. M’gonna breed ya right there, my wife.”

He was measuring you.

Dark eyes a mere millimeter-wide crack away from falling shut, imagining just how glowing and pretty you’d be all full of his kid.

More thorough, even more thorough. 

Your entrance was so cozy when he pinched your pussy that he had to arch off the polished bathtub with slippery schwfs! Pushing n’ pushing past the slight resistance of you sucking his heated, heavy cock after every thrust. 

Desperate. 

You were biting down on your lips to hold back primal screams, because Higuruma was making sure you felt every dragging scrape of his full veins. Making sure your fuzzy eardrums rang with every wiiiinded squelch and splosh resonating from down under - and that was not just the water. 

“Gonna fuck ya u-until ngh- until they all know what we’ve done. T-till they all know how I made a ngh- fuckin’ mess of ya.” He snickers after your heels slip along the bathtub trying to rut wildly into him.

“H-Hiro-”

“You wanted a baby. N’ now you’re fuck- getting one.”

“P-please–” You’re letting your head tumble backwards, bleary eyes rolling way deeper and deeper to the backs of your lids as Higuruma keeps rocking constantly into you. Impatiently, “Harder, baby. Harder. Faster.”

“Haaah? Harder? M’supposed ta take care of the future mother of my kids, sugar- not break her pretty ngh- pussy.”

Though he’s grumbling this into your unfastened mouth, his pace only picks up into something filthy. You almost feel dirty letting the plumpened curve of his mushroom tip swat the door to your womb. 

And then you feel his reddened, swollen divot dangerously twitch-

“W-wait-” It takes a few seconds for you to manage to get your eyes fluttering open, and even then you’re fighting against the temptation of his long, veined cock fucking you dumb. “Did you j-just say hck! ‘kids’?”

“Sure did, angel—” Higuruma titters by the side of your pulsating throat, gifting you with one, two, three pecks. Right before sinking his teeth into your fragrant skin and groaning, “We’re having five kids. At least.”

A/N. Hope you have a lovely week <3

Plagiarism not authorized.

[fushiguho]

bruh. just saw a video on twitter of the prettiest boy fucking his hand as he was eating his lady out… like he was so so so incredibly desperate and all i could think about is sweet sweet suguru geto who breathes to please his perfect little girlfriend and gets so fucking horny doing so.

cw cunnilingus, masturbation, multiple orgasms implied

like his legs just shamelessly sprawled, bare back slumped against the edge of the bed while the base of his head presses into the messy, ruffled duvet. the slender column of his throat is exposed and he’s arched so sexily, spine bowing almost achingly as his stomach caves, hips rutting.

he’s completely bare; that long, writhing body seated so erotically on the carpeted floor, you on his face. as his narrow frame stretches allll the way up the side of the bed, your body is perched right against his lips. you sit on the edge of the bed, feet resting upon his shoulders, your warm, swollen clit repeatedly glissading over his button nose while you ride him so fucking good.

god and his mouuthhhh. he’s completely unabashed as he indulgently devours you, glossy lips noisily smacking against your pretty, dripping cunt—tongue so fucking hot and wet as he hungrily pushes it inside of you, feasting like you’re a plate of the finest delicacy. a loud cry leaves you and his hips buck in response, chasing the furious jerk of his fist as you fuck his face like the toy he so desperately needs to be.

the pad of his thumb is swiping over the warm, leaking head of his cock at the same time he’s pulling your pretty lil’ clit between his greedy lips and sucking. every sound that leaves you is reciprocated, lost in the unruly wet depths of your cunt as he utterly embodies your pleasure, breaths synchronous.

“mmphf,” his pleasureful cries are muffled, dampened by the warmth of your cunt as you grind it onto his tongue. “f— fuck my t-tongue… moreee, gimme more.” greed drips from his tone, his broken sentences growing lower and whinier with unbearable need. “god, come hereeee.”

geto’s vacant hand is snaking up your waist, clinging to the thick of your hip before dragging you impossibly closer, smothering himself between the fat of your thighs like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. you gasp and geto moans, flattening his tongue to finish you the only way he knows how, sloppily.

and there are just so many orgasms… geto is probably three or four deep and you’re not far behind. you lean forward onto the mattress before firmly planting your wobbly hands against the disheveled sheets, grounding yourself so that you can properly fuck your pussy into his mouth, chasing your release for the third time in a row.

“fuck! thereee,” it’s hardly a growl as you sluttily arch your back, an electrifying heat torpedoing toward your achingly swollen clit. “there… right fucking there, god!”

he’s feral, heavy balls tightening in a horrendous need to release as he forces precum from the swollen head of his cock. the vein that runs along the underside of his pretty, hooked shaft is hot against the palm of his jerking hand, throbbing so desperately with each drag of his fist. god, he’s a fucking mess with it too—all of his previous loads stickily cascading down his pectorals and abdomen, chest heaving.

your final orgasm is synchronous, the two of you creaming at once. geto is obnoxious, moaning like such a slut as he greedily slurps you up, noisily cleaning your sloppy little hole free of the mess you’ve made. once again, he cums a lot and hard, panting against your slick cunt between his tender kisses to your ravaged clit.

drunkenly, geto smiles up from between your thighs. “one more?”

[satorena]

taking nerdjo’s glasses while you’re riding 🥸

cw. 18+. semi public sex. sub undertones. breeding kink.

“—ohhhh fuckkkkk,”

he doesn’t understand it— any of it. he doesn’t understand how he, of all people, managed to get you. the it girl on campus— with pretty hairstyles and cutesy nails, flocks of both girls and boys crawling after you for the slightest bit of your attention, is somehow interested in the least known guy around— the lanky, socially awkward physics teacher assistant with fading digimon stickers glued to the back of his worn down computer.

gojo assumes he’s experiencing one hell of a good dream. that’s the only way to explain the insatiable feeling of wet heat enveloping his aching dick. it’s the only way to explain the pornographic sounds of skin slapping echoing in this empty library. it’s the only way to explain why his balls are begging for release with each grind of needy hips rocking against his own.

he doesn’t want to wake up. he feels the cheap fabric of carpet beneath his fingernails from digging them into the floor. his knuckles are turning white from how hard he’s clenching. there’s an abnormal tightening of a knot in his guts begging to be snapped. he can feel beads of sweat forming at his hairline and his foggy glasses are slipping past his nose bridge uncomfortably—

but he doesn’t want to wake up.

planted on the heels of whatever latest trendy shoes you own, you’re riding his cock as if he were your lifeline. god you feel divine— your folds swallowing him into your cunt with such ease and precision, walls clenching down the moment he’s balls deep. he can feel your acrylics scratching at his undercut with one hand while the other holds your body steady down his thigh.

gojo doesn’t think he’s breathing, and frankly, isn’t sure if he wants to. you’re reckless— moaning freely in the emptiness of the establishment and right into the shell of his ear as if your birthright, careless of the thuds of heavy textbooks hitting the floor. there’s a crease in your brows and your jaw hangs slack, glossy lips parted as they release the hymns of your cries,

“—so deep, can feel you in my stomach!”

your tits bounce in clockwise motions. you’d freed yourself from your top sometime between the flirting behind bookshelves and his pikachu drawls dropping down to the floor. the sound of your pussy squelching with every bounce is a memory he wouldn’t forget even on his death bed— cunt so wet he can hardly feel his own dick in you.

the pad of your thumb grazes his bottom lip, and you lean forward to catch it between yours. he’s frozen stiff— the slip of your tongue in his mouth, your overwhelming sweetness invading his senses. he’s moaning pathetically, growing some security in the muffled sounds, so overstimulated by this insatiable pleasure that his arms start to feel weak.

your tongue swipes at his lips before nibbling on the flesh, “—taste so good,” he feels your lips mouthing against his own, and wishes he was able to focus for a split second on what you told him, but the ache in balls are a telltale that this euphoric dream is drawing to an end.

he squints his eyes shut. he tries to focus on the latest chapter of his latest obsession manga and theories he’s conspired. he recalls the sneak of his wrinkly old professor’s ass crack from his early lecture. he thinks back on this auction he’s seen online for retro limited edition video games. did he ever end up submitting that biochem lab assignment due—

“gojo.”

he snaps his eyes open. he didn’t realize he’d clenched his entire facial muscles until the moment he was able to see you again— only releasing those muscles feeling tightness in his cheeks (amongst other places)(read: his cock).

you’ve slowed down your pace. you’ve switched your movements from bounces to grinding. he can feel his tip prodding at your gummy walls. your breath fans his cupid’s bow and he’s only now noticing how close in proximity you both are. he can feel your heartbeat against his chest, and he’s positive you can feel his stomach clenching against your own.

he begins to feel more of your body weight on his, a feeling he definitely wants to get accustomed to, as you shift from your feet to your knees. your hand on his thigh trails upwards past his trail of hair, sliding up past the ridges of his abs, over the planes of his chest and meet at his nape with its other duo. there’s an aroma of vanilla and cherries exuding off you—

heisenburg’s uncertainty principle. star wars mandalorian culture. the roswell ufo incident. fucking neon genesis evangelion’s a cruel angel’s thesis—

“you don’t like me?” you ask him, all doey eyed like. it doesn’t sound like a legitimate question, but his ‘huh’ does draw more into a whine when you intentionally clamp down on his dick. he doesn’t miss the mischievous glint in your eyes.

gojo bites down on his lower lip, fiddling with a loose thread on the carpet. his body releases a shudder at the chills creeping up his spine when you trace a finger down the slope of his neck, “w-what?” he asks weakly, huffing as his toes curl in his socks.

this time, you cock your head just barely to the side, and he watches your gaze trail from his lips to his eyes and back to his lips. despite the agonizingly slow pace, you never stop riding him. his cock is still graced by your warmth, still snatching his soul through his slit. your lashes bat twice before glancing back up at his eyes.

“you don’t like me.” you’re not asking this time, your tone dripping in seduction and like a fool, finds himself swayed. you’re teasing him— he can see it in the way the corner of your lips quirk into your infamous smile. you’ve got him wrapped all around your pretty finger— he knows it and you definitely know it.

as if he was anybody to not like you. your ass cheeks clench when you drive your body forward, gripping on his cock so tight he can feel the wind knocked out his lungs, “no! are you, ngh, crazy— of course i do—”

“because i like you.” it falls short of a whisper, but the vibrations of your words against his lips shoot right to his heart and balls, and he knows his blotchy cheeks are now flushed red for an entirely different reason.

he answers faster than his mind can process, his stomach jumping with butterflies and an oncoming orgasm. your eyes won’t leave his— like a deceiving siren baring deep into his soul and rendering him vulnerable before consuming his entire being. not too far from his reality, hips bucking upwards as desperately as possible to emphasize his immediate answer, “i like you too—”

“you won’t look at me,” gojo hadn’t realized he shied away from your gaze, pouring his entire focus on not spilling both his heart and cum right into you, “talk to me.”

“i-it’s just, um,” he tries to flick his eyes back onto yours, but you’re still staring so intensely behind siren eyes and still rocking your hips. your fluids drip past your cunt and down his sack, before staining the carpet, “i’m a—mmph, nobody and you’re— well, you’re you,” he feels a hot tongue glide over the accumulated sweat on his neck and humps up again, “y’re just so pretty and every time i look at you i get the urge to c-cum but,” your teeth sink into his jugular before nibbling and he whines, throwing his head back, “i want— need you to cum first. . .”

there’s a beat of silence for a while. you’ve even halted your grinding altogether. he prays to god he didn’t mess up the one good thing that’s happened to him in all his twenty one years of living. you’ve even popped his now bruised skin from your lips— hovering right over the mark you left on him. pleasure licks at his limbs feverishly, back arching in hopes to dig even deeper (if possible) in your pussy.

you pull away from his neck and the tip of your nose is back to grazing his own. your usually styled hair is now a mess, your skin dampening from moisture and your lip gloss now swapped for your and his saliva— your overall classic, picture perfect image completely abandoned,

and he doesn’t think you’ve looked any prettier.

“so,” you draw out, freeing a hand from his locks to graze over the throbbing love bite at his neck. gojo sniffs, pushing his foggy glasses back up on his bridge with the back of his hand, and you caress the throbbing flesh, “the problem is when you look huh. . .?”

his neck is suddenly released from blissful torture and he feels his frames coming off his face from no effort of his own. his vision slowly fades and his pupils dilate to accommodate to his now poor quality of sight, “what are you—”

and his breath hitches. he can only make out your shape through your sinful curves but there’s no mistake from your silhouette— your hands, now holding his glasses hostage, press at his chest, “trust me,” you apply firm pressure from your palms to his upper body, and he feels himself sinking into the floor, back meeting the dirty carpet.

trust you? he’d lay his life on the line for a woman like you.

his fingers spread as his palms face the sky, and his breath staggered. the bookshelves, windows and study rooms are all blurry as fuck— which is both off putting and extremely risky since library hours were still valid at this time, but despite it all, it felt as if he could see you clear as day. gojo would usually never put his academics on the line, but he couldn’t deny the thrill of possibly getting caught having sex with the finest girl in school in a public library had his cock twitching incessantly.

god, he is just so happy to be here.

your fingers slide his glasses atop your nose bridge, and your cheeks split into a cheeky smile, hips beginning to roll back into their previous tempo. he feels your hands grabbing his own, before resting them at your hips. he’s a greedy man, and since the opportunity may only come once in his lifetime, he slides his hands further to your ass., and with a gulp, grabs the flesh greedily. damn— it hardly fits in his palms.

there’s a symphony of moans coming from you both when you lift your hips up, and it’s downright disgusting how turned on he gets at your essence trickling down his shaft and past his balls. your pussy lips drool and latch onto his tip tightly, before entirely releasing him and slipping your hand between your thighs. you kneed his nuts, fondling the testicles between your digits expertly and his back arches off the floor, “shouldn’t be an issue anymore, yeah?” you hum.

“y-yeah— oh god, yes,” gojo nods dumbly, toes curling in his socks as you proceed to stroke his cock. his tip is weeping in pre cum blended with your own wetness, and the faster you flick your wrist, the tighter his stomach contracts. he’s lasted quite some time now, considering this being his first time and all, but there’s only so much a man can hold back. his fingernails dig crescent moon shapes into the mounds of your ass as his hips chase after your touch with every stroke. “w-wait, fuck, i’m gonna cum—”

“yeah?” you encourage him, hunching just over his weeping dick, still holding him at his base. you drag his tip in between your lips, back and forth, while your other hand feels him up at his abs. “where do you wanna finish? on my face?” he whines, mindlessly humping and your smirk deepens as you slowly sink down, “on my tits?” gojo shakes his head, and feels drool coming from the corner of his lips. his limbs are on fire and his groin feels like it’s on the verge of explosion, “on my ass?” you’re about halfway down, “or. . . inside?”

“please,” he doesn’t care if he’s begging. snowy lashes bat open as his teary unfocused eyes adjust to the dimmed lights. even your silhouette is sexy, “please lemme cum inside, i-i’ll do anything.”

“hmm, anything?” you purr, knees finally hitting the floor as you straddle him once more. he lets out a guttural groan at the familiar feel of your silky walls entrapping his cock. his mind is fucking hazy and despite never having consuming alcohol, he feels drunk.

“yes,” he pleads, rolling his hips impossibly deeper into you, euphoric pleasure shooting in his bloodstream, “a-anything you want, i swear,” at the sudden intrusion, you let out a loud gasp when his tip bumps into your cervix and drop your body forward, arms giving out.

chest to chest, skin to skin, your lips hover over his as your back dips into an arch, forcing a penetration deeper in your guts. your palms are pressed flat onto the floor at the side of his head, and he can make out his glasses sitting lazily on the ball of your nose. he slides his hands up your sides, kneading at every inch of your flesh, before sliding back down to your ass.

“even my homework? assignments?” you tease breathily, a strangled moan ripping out your throat when his knees push up and fucks into you. your body jerks forward as his feet plant to the floor, hands still gripping on your ass.

when he snaps his hips up, you roll yours down, and the matching intensity sends his brain haywire. he’s desperate for release, forcing your hips down as he nudges his cock languidly into your cunt. his jaw falls slack and he nods again, dumbly, “ngh, for the rest of the s-school year,”

“that easy with you?” you giggle, but is easily interrupted when he leans forward to catch your lips in a messy kiss. there’s a shit ton of saliva involved, some even escapes past your mouths and down your jaws, but he couldn’t care any less—you tasted heavenly. he wishes he had the time to eat your pussy, he’s positive you taste holier down there.

“it’s your world.” gojo moans, snaking his hands from your ass to wrap around your upper body. now caught in his embrace, you let your head fall limply into the crook of his neck as he works his dick in and out of you. he means what he said— it is your world, and he’s nothing more than a happy servant. “i’ll do it all— bring your books to class, rub your feet— i’ll bark if you need me to— just, please, please, please let me cum inside.”

your moans vibrating from his neck run straight to his ears and fuels him further. he’s thrusting relentlessly— there’s no set pace at all, and he’s so close to finishing he’s completely forgotten about wanting you to cum first. he finally understands why everybody obsesses over sex— he never wants to let you go.

your head pushes up from his neck, nosing at his jaw. he feels your hands cradling his hair, and your lips pressing kisses at the corner of his mouth. his heart skips a beat— he revels in the attention you’re giving him, even if it’s just for the moment. he knows he won’t ever be this lucky again, so he might as well enjoy the ride while he’s here.

“you wanna breed my pussy?” you bite your lip, each stroke in your cunt jerking the glasses down the slope of your nose. despite the dense flog clouding the lens, he can feel your eyes on him. he nods desperately, tightening his hold on you, and the new angle has your clit dragging against his pelvis, “mmph— okay, yeah — put a baby in me, freak.”

and so he does. he thrusts as spurts of cum shoots inside your womb. his balls tighten as his hips rut, arms clutching onto your body with every fibre in him. you smell good, feel good, look good— and your cunt milks him dry for whatever he’s worth.

his orgasm feels short of an eternity yet simultaneously a second, his soul having transcended into an outwardly dimension. and it’s only when you scoot your ass upwards, sliding a hand between both warm bodies, that you collect his cum on the pad of your fingers. he blinks hazily, zeroing his focus when he sees you pop your fingers into your mouth.

“mhm,” you hum at the taste. he’s panting heavily, body riding a euphoric high he’s yet to come down from. you don’t seem to mind, leaning forward to catch his lips once again. and he lets you, moaning at the taste of himself on your tongue. when you pull away, there’s a thin string of cum induced saliva pulling at your lips. “‘s my world, right? want my pussy in your mouth.”

and he instantly hardens.

[merakidoll]

the first time choso saw you bent over in the tiny white skirt, he knew you would be taking such a prized possession from him - his virginity!

choso dwelled in being a hot man who had a big dick that hadn’t been touched. but one look at your ass, then in your eyes, he was a gonner like everyone else who crossed paths with you. “f-fuck” he mumbled when you removed his cock from your mouth with a wet pop. a saliva string from your lips to his tip connected you two and it was so hot. “gonna be super duper gentle chocho!” his large bed covered in silk black sheets brought comfort. choso wasn’t scared, but nervous. what if he wasn’t as good as you think he would be? digging your duck nails into his board shoulders you used your free hand to aline him to your fat cunt rubbing his tip up between your pussy lips and circling his head with your clit. you gentle tapped him against your pink puffy clit making pre cum ooze.

“stop teasing” he gritted out, his nails dug into the sheets so tight that some of his red gel polished chipped. his balls were heavy, never feeling this feeling of pain from needing pleasure so bad. with a small wiggle the fat head of choso dick popped into your cunt. a shocked gasped came from your mouth, while choso adam’s apple bobbed. his face becoming red from how hot tight and wet you are. what a welcoming. “oh goddd” you cried out slowly sliding down him, his grith was unexplainable. so fat and long, the best you ever had. once your ass touched his thighs and you sat on him completely you let out a shaky breath.

your big eyes looked at how choso’s eyes were closed as if he was restraining himself. that’s what choso was used to, restraining, but you had his brain so gone. he couldn’t think any thoughts that would usually calm his crazy instincts when he was with you. as if he was blinded by pleasure, choso moved quick flipping you two over and pounding your cunt for all the years worth of pent up agression. “love this pussy, shit” he growled. balls slapping your ass, he enjoyed watching you try to grab anything to run for him. the pleasure knocking the wind out of you. his cock so far deep inside of you that it was hard to breath. “don’t run bunny. take it. you begged for this dick.”

slowing down he leaned down and kissed your wet lips. he pulled back bitting your bottom lip drawing blood that he licked up. your body shook against him, hands shanking as your nails clawed at his back, bow charm popping off. your eyes rolled to the back of your head, squirt shooting out of you and getting all over choso. “thata girl. give everything to your chocho” kissing your neck he stilled inside of you and moaned into your neck, his cum filling you to the brim. when his balls felt empty choso slid out of you, you finally felt as if you could breath. but too soon, as soon as you felt it, the wind was knocked out of you again. choso man handling you on your stomach, and into an arch where he slid back inside of you, smaking your ass. “c-chochoooo i-i can’t!”

tears poured down your cheeks, hands holding the headboard while you moaned, a scream coming from you when his fat thumb massaged your puckered hole slowly pushing in as he fucked you deep and hard. “you can bunny. giving m-my baby everything she wants” throwing his head back choso licked his lip tasting the metal of his lip ring. opening his eyes he was mesmerized by your ass clapping against his cock. he watched more and more cream get on his cock with each thrust. “m’there. fuck bunny!” his body fell on you as his cum came out unexpectedly.

a feeling as if his body was levitating came over him. your pussy clenched and unclenched. the mix of you both coming out of you as you came with him again, then fell into a deep cum driving slumber. with a limp dick and empty balls choso pulled out of you and layed you comfortably in the bed. he stood at the end and chuckled to himself, you could never leave him.

[rowanjasper]

Reblogging again bc someone interacted with this and literally THIS WEEK Hoshoryu, a mongolian wrestler, was promoted to become the 74th yokuzuna, the highest rank, and he's the nephew of Asashoryu, the 68th yokozuna. There hasnt been a new yokuzuna in 5 years, and 6 of the last 10 yokozuna have been from Mongolia (2 from Hawaii, and before that... never a foreign born yokozuna)

Look how cute he is jfc.

Obsessed with Mongolian wrestling outfits

[fairy-angel222]

𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨 ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

The latter opening his phone to a video of Gojo fucking you, one of his close friends and roommate, from behind. The camera capturing your tear filled eyes as you cried. “S-Satoruu— nnh, please.. please don’t show Suguru.” He couldn’t see you like this, especially when it was for his best friend. The one whose charms you promised him you wouldn’t fall for.

Gojo ignored you completely, and you let out a broken whimper when you took that as your answer. The camera now panning down to the recoil of your ass as Gojo hammered into you, using his hand to spread your cheeks before zooming in on the way your pussy stretched to take his thick cock.

“That’sss it. Look at that filthy fuckin’ cunt. So wet n noisy f’me. Pussy’s creamin’ all over my cock, shitt.” He groaned, palm landing meanly onto your ass as his pace sped. “Suguru’s gonna love this. He’s a lil pervert f’you baby.”

You mewled loudly, head fuzzy as you babbled out words of embarrassment. Attempting to hide your face in his sheets.

Geto was furious, his jaw clenching along with his fist as he watched Gojo taint his precious girl. That was supposed to be his job. Watching as Gojo’s hand twisted roughly in your hair to pull you up to his chest. Your eyes rolling back with the arch of your back as you let dumbed down cries consume your shaking frame.

Geto hated it. But he couldn’t stop watching. Beginning to stroke roughly at his cock to the sight of Gojo molding you around his cock. A loud groan vibrating in his chest when you started begging the white haired man to cum in you.

Gojo angled the phone to show your whiny face while forcing you to keep contact with your reflection. Teary eyes and drool filled lips staring back at you with a choked cry. A smirk on his face when he tilted it down to the lewd bouncing of your tits. "Bet Sugu’s gonna jerk off to this when he sees it baby.”

“Wonder if he likes hearing you beg for me to breed your cunt full. You think he likes it baby?” He faux cooed, lips ghosting over your ear with heavy breaths. The man putting himself in the frame to chuckle darkly before grinning. A shiver raking down your spine at the feeling of his teeth on your skin.

You could only whine with a hiccup as you blinked up at the camera. Your head spinning as you tried to looked away with a moan. You didn’t want Suguru to see you like this.

Gojo grip on your hair tightened, tugging harshly as you whimpered. “I’m fucking talking to you ya know, you were doing so well baby. Just had to screw it up, didn’t you?” Gojo scoffed, shoving your head into the bed below with his hand behind your neck. The mean snapping of his hips rocking you back and forth each time his cock kissed your cervix.

Gojo sighed, the camera now picking up his tensed abs as they glistened with sweat. His pelvis meeting your flesh faster than Geto could keep up with. “Your little slut needs a lesson or two on obedience Suguru.” He smiled lazily, “Guess someone’s gotta teach her huh.”

The video ended. And Geto was quick to press replay.

He groaned, still fisting his cock to the image of your face contorting into one of pure pleasure as you looked at the camera through your lashes.

Cursing himself as he reached into your bedside drawer to grab his favorite out of your panties. Pretty pink one with part lace and a bow in the middle. Using it to imagine that it was you bouncing on his cock, your tight cunt gripping him snug as you made a sticky mess on his thighs.

His pace quickened, breathing getting heavy as he panted. Ragged breaths falling past parted lips until he felt his cock twitch. Spilling thick spurts onto his clothed lap like the pervert Gojo said he was.

[kisses4themissus]

A Foreign Love || In-ho x Reader

wc: 2.6k a/n: Ahh i had so much fun writing this request!! if you would like a happier ending do please send me a message or inbox me i don't mind warning: (spelling errors possibly?)

Pt 2 | masterlist

You nervously played with your hands as you walked around the room, every team had gotten a sixth player, it didn't help that you were seemingly the only foreigner there.

“Excuse me, could I join you all?” You questioned as you walked up to a group of elders. 

Player 100 scoffed and dismissed you with a wave of his hand. “Please sir, I see your team is short a member..” You tried to convince him. He groaned at you before turning towards you. “Can’t you take a hint and leave...entitled americans!” He scoffed at you, looking you up and down in disgust.

“I’m sorry.” You apologized before walking away. You sat down near the wall and let tears well up in your eyes. As you let out a shakily breath, covering your face with your hands. You didn't even want to play more games, all you wished was to go home.

As you cried, a gentle hand was placed on you shoulder, making you peek through your hands. Player 388 was squatted next to you. “Are you alright, miss?” He questioned, concern in his eyes, you nodded and wiped your eyes with your jacket sleeve.

“Do you have a team?” He asked, helping you stand up; You shook your head at him, “Everyone claimed to have a sixth player..” You explained, he nodded slowly at your words before motioning for you to follow him. 

Trailing behind him, he led you to a group of three older men and one girl around your age. “I have found our sixth!” He announced happily before stepping to the side to show you.

They all blinked as you waved to them, a small polite smile on your face.

“The foreigner?!” Player 390 exclaimed, one of the other men; player 456 smacked his arm before greeting you with a nod.

“In my game we had a foreigner, he did well, he just got given the wrong kind of person during a game...” Player 456 explained.

“Welcome!” Player 001 greeted, you smiled and nodded your head in acknowledgment “Thank you for having me.” You bowed slightly.

- - - - - - - - - - - 

You all sat together in a line as the games got announced. 

Ddakji, flying stones, gong-gi, spinning top, jegi and jacks.

“Jacks?” All of your teammates questioned. “You have to bounce a ball and collect little metal jacks and have to pick them up before the ball falls.” You explained, perking up. 

“Are you any good?” Player 001 questioned. You held your hand out and shook it side to side, “somewhat.” He nodded as the others began to claim the other games.

You all watched as the other teams went, before you knew it, you were the last team to go.

You all got up and waited as the guards chained you; Your team had done well til it had gotten to spinning top.

You groaned as he managed to toss it behind you all, he broke down, yelling at himself for his mistake, you leaned forward a bit and looked towards player 001, “We all make mistakes, maybe try your left hand!” You suggested, he nodded and winded the toy up before letting it go, you all waited with baited breath as it spun.

You all walked to the next mini game and began to hype player 456 up as he did jegi, you all moved forwards as both player 456 and 001 caught it with their legs that were tied together.

“You got this!” Player 388 smiled as the guard handed you the ball, you and your team squatted down so you could play on the small table, shaking you tossed the ball up, you had failed to catch the jack in time due to your shaking hands. You groaned, you had tried twice to get the jacks before the ball fell but failed, you were on the verge of a panic attack as you glanced up to the counter. 

“Calm down, we all make mistakes!” 001 tried to reassure. You just nodded and tried once more, you waited as the ball went up, with a swift hand you swiped up the mini jacks and the ball, you all yelled out in relief before running the fastest you could tied together.

You all cheered as you crossed the finish line; your beginning was cut short. Gunshots made you all flinch; The opposite team didn’t make it. You all stared horrified at the corpses while being unshackled.

- - - - - - - - - - - 

You all walked back to the dorm, everyone's eyes on your backs. You had linked arms with 222, she had explained she was pregnant at the beginning of the game, you had gained a need to protect her ever since. As you passed player 100 and his friends you stopped at his words, “Both the foreigner and the pregnant girl lived, they’re definitely not making it to the next round!” He laughed, you turned and went to open your mouth but stopped as 001 walked over to them.

“What does that say about you? Your team is all old men, who’s to say none of you don’t have heart failure in the middle of the next game? What kind of men are you all, denying an expecting mother and an innocent foreigner help?!” He scoffed as the group of older men stumbled over their words.

He wordlessly walked away to his bed by the others.

You unlinked your arms as 222 walked towards another player, leaving you to follow after 001.

He sat on his bed, sighing. You quietly approached his bed, watching as he rubbed his shoulder, trying to give his muscles a bit of comfort. “Thank you again mister.” You muttered out, earning his attention, he looked in your direction. 

“For letting me on your team, and standing up to that player…thank you mister!” You clarified, nervously playing with your fingers. 

“Someone had to put them in their place, it was a matter of time really.” He lightly chuckled, patting the space next to him on his bed, you sit down.

“Why are you in the game?” He questioned, you softly laughed. “I originally came here to study abroad.  emergencies happened in my home country, I trusted the wrong shady guy to send money to my family..” You explained, he listened.

“What brought you here mister?” you questioned, sitting up. “Hospital’s build up a lot of debt..” He sighed, you nodded. 

He snickered, making you look at him confused. “You don’t have to call me mister, it’s-!” As he went to give you his name the others walked over, talking about the next vote.

“I think I threw my shoulder out!” Player 390 sighed, moving his arm in a circle motion. “I’m sorry about earlier, everyone..” 001 apologized. You all dismissed his apology 

Player 222 had walked over and sat on the steps beside your shoes; she looked around as the group sat down together and talked. “Oh what about her ddakji  play, im surprised she didn’t break the ground when she threw it!” Player 390 laughed, she looked bashfully to the ground, a smile on her face.

“Or what about her jacks play, swiped them better than a thief!” 388 complimented making you giggle; Player 222 bowed her head as she looked at you all. “Thank you for including me on your team.” she thanked. You quickly nodded in agreement, “thank you, i’d probably be dead if i hadn't found a team in time..” They all nodded.

“I think we’re lucky you two joined us, we’d be lost with the jacks or stuck on ddakji forever.” 390 joked, earning laughs from everyone. 388 stood up in front of you all, “listen since we’re sticking together, i think we should learn each other's names, it would be a good idea right?” He questioned, waiting for someone to disagree but it never came, you all nodded.

“I’ll start, my name is kang dae-ho; dae means big and ho means tiger!” He grinned, you all nodded.

“That’s a very cool meaning!” You grinned at him. Player 390 cleared his throat, “My parents didn't give me a cool name, it's just park jung-bae. Righteous and twice.. I guess they want me to be twice as righteous.” He sighed.

“My name is kim jun-hee, i dunno what it means though..” She gave a soft look before glancing down to her hands.

“Jun-hee, once we get out of here you need to go see a doctor, stress isn't good for either you or the baby.” 001 told the young girl, who nodded.

“I’m oh young il.” He introduced himself, you all nodded. 

“It kinda sounds like your number!” You pointed out. “It’s easy to remember,” He laughed, before turning to 456.

“You’ve all heard my name, it's gi-hun.” He dismissed you all, “What’s your last name gi-hun?” Young il questioned. “It’s seong gi-hun.” He explained, earning nods.

“I’m y/n y/l/n, my name doesn’t have any meaning like your guys.” You smiled, earning a laugh from jungbae.

“Very american!” He commented, earning more comments of your nationality. 

“Is it true americans carry guns everywhere?” Jung-bae asked, earning a laugh from you. “Um, certain states..yes.” You grinned.

You all had continued talking till a loud buzz, out walked the guards with the voting machine, you all watched as they set it up and went over the rules once more.

You all looked at one another’s badges. Young il cover his as you looked at him with a slight frown. ‘I’m voting to leave this time.” He nodded at you. You grinned and nodded “Maybe when we get out, me and you can go for dinner?” You suggested, a smile on your face, he chuckled at you “I’d enjoy that.”

You grinned at him as he walked to the machine and pressed the X.

You watched as the screen counting the votes go up as more people voted to stay, you began to shake as gi-hun pressed the X but was outvoted, you swallowed a knot in your throat. 

You stood beside dae-ho and jun-hee in shock at the results, “I’m gonna be sick.” You muttered before running to the restrooms. 

In-ho waited til everyone had disbursed before signalling towards the guard in your direction, you were to busy trying not to vomit in the dorm to notice anyone gaze.

- - - - - - - - - - - 

Gi-hun had you all move your mattresses to the ground, he was on edge. He had told your group in his past game by the third game players had gotten violent during the night.

You sighed, laying down under the bed frame on your mattress. Slowly you had drifted off to sleep while the others continued to move more beds and set up a watch system.

You woke up during the night, having to use the restroom. You glanced over and saw everyone had fallen asleep. You quietly got up and walked to gi-hun, who watched for other players.

“I need to go use the restroom.” you told him, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. “It's dangerous out there!” He warned, you glanced around the dorm, no one was actively awake.

“I'll be ok, no one seems to be up yet either!” 

Before he could respond, you walked past and towards the side door and knocked. A triangle guard opened the small hatch, before you could say anything the door opened fully for you. “oh, thank you! I won't be long.” You thanked them, before walking into the restroom.

Gi-hun silently watched, holding back his yawns. A tap of his shoulder alerted him, in-ho smiled at the man. “Ready to switch off?” He asked, rubbing sleep from his eyes, gi-hun nodded and traded spots; In-ho waited til he knew gi-hun was asleep before getting up from the floor and walked to the side door and knocked in a pattern, the triangle guard bowed their head and stepped to the side.

- - - - - - - - - - - 

You yawned as you walked out of the restroom, as you went to leave back to the dorm, the guard stopped you, standing in front of the door, facing you.

“Can i get by please?” You motioned to the door with your hand. They shook their head at you before speaking. “Follow the guard.” 

You gave him a confused look, as you followed their raised hand you were surprised to see another guard, this guard was dressed different, his clothing was black and his mask had a sqaure. “Ok?” You quickly followed as the guard let you through the stairs, as you go to a certain part, they turned around and handed you a piece of black cloth. “Put it on.” They commanded, you nodded and tied it over your eyes, your heart began to pick up.

What did they want from you? Are they going to execute you? 

Your thoughts ran wild as the guard guided you through the halls. Finally you had stopped. The sound of shoes filled your ears.

Your blood ran cold as your vision was restored, you flinched covering your eyes due to the lights. You squinted at the figure.

“Who are you?” You questioned, your eyes adjusting to the room’s light, the man’s mask was matte black, it had a sort of 3D design to it.

“I am the frontman, owner of these games.” He introduced himself, your heart stopped. 

“Why am i here?” You questioned, too busy to see the guard grabbed rope and slowly approaching you. “I see you have gotten very close with one of the players…001.” You nodded, watching his every move.

“What did you do to him?” You questioned, the frontman stepping closer to you. “Nothing, just if your safe and away from him, he’ll do better at these games.” He explained, motioning for the guard.

As you turned your head the guard grabbed your arms and began to tie them together. You let out a yell as they pinned you and tied your legs together. “No one can hear you from here.” He explained, running one of his gloved fingers over your cheek as tears fell down.

He motioned to the guard to help move you to the bed he had in an adjacent room. You cried and thrashed the best you could.

He shushed you as you cried, he sighed, knowing it wasn't helping. He grabbed a remote he had on the bedside; he waited til the guard confirmed you were sacred in the bed before pressing a button, a small hiss filled the room. You stared at him in horror as gas filled the room. 

“Goodnight.” He nodded to you before shutting the room door, feeling drowsy, you tired to look around the room for any way out but stopped as your eyes forced shut.

- - - - - - - - - - - 

Gi-hun and the others were startled awake as in-ho yelled at the guards. “What happened?” Jung-bae questioned, rubbing his eyes and began to stand up to see the commotion.

“YOU TOOK HER, I  KNOW IT SHE’S BEEN GONE FOR 5 HOURS!” In-ho yelled, pounding at the door where the hatch was closed.

Gi-hun and the others ran over to him, concerned and confused. “What’s going on?” Gi-hun asked looking at his teammate who sobbed squatting down to his knees, playing the grieving act.

“Those masked guards took y/n, she had been gone for sometime and i went to see if she was there and-!” He sobbed, earning worried looks from the group.

“Player 129 has been eliminated!” The voice rang out in the room. 

Everyone stared at each other in shock. Jun-hee covered her mouth in shock. Gi-hun sighed and squatted down to in-ho’s level and patted him on the back in comfort. “Help stop these games for her.” 

In-ho nodded and wiped the tears away. “For her..” He repeated sadly, knowing full well you were peacefully sleeping in his bed at the moment.

pt 2

[circe69]

neighbor!simon riley, who trudges back to his flat after a long mission away, with sleepy eyes, tense shoulders and bloody hands. his palm reaches for the doorknob and as he opens it, the door right across from him opens as well.

and there you are, a pretty little thing, had to be at least a foot shorter than he was, clad in some stretchy shorts and an oversized college t-shirt that was hanging off your shoulders. simon's eyes drifted down the length of you, trying to memorize the freckles, occasional stretch marks and fluffy cellulite down your thighs, your shiny legs reflecting the eery hallway light.

"hi," you whispered with a wave, as you bent down to retrieve a package left on your doormat. simon's breath hitched as you leaned over, showing your soft tits almost spilling out of the sports bra you wore underneath.

he cleared his throat, "evenin" and fumbled with the doorknob. when he finally made it inside, he struggled even locking the door behind him, what if she needs me? he thought to himself. even off the job, he was nothing if not a protector.

as he laid in bed that night, stroking his neglected cock to the thought of you all laid out underneath him, squirming and whining for more, more, more. your pretty cries and soft body bouncing as he thrusted into you was all it took for him to come hard. he couldn't hold back the groans tumbling out of his mouth as he finished.

fuck, he thought. he was doomed, truly, and he had to keep telling himself that no matter what, everything was temporary for him. there's no point in trying something with you when he was just going to end up leaving anyways.

but as the weeks went on, you were making it harder and harder for simon. every small interaction and passing glances in the elevator left him painfully hard underneath his cargo pants, and his delicate skin had been made raw from all the times he had to rub one out to the thought of you.

one early morning, as he left at the break of dawn for a conference meeting at a nearby base, he opened his front door only to be met with you, his lovely doe-eyed neighbor, holding out a container filled with cookies. he could tell you had just woken up, from the way your sweatpants lopsidedly hung off your hips, and the way your tank top was wrinkled. "I made these for you, to take to work. if you don't like them, that's okay. i just wanted to make sure you had something." your raspy voice called out to him as you handed him the container.

simon's heart dropped and broke in two as he took the container from you, oatmeal raisin? he thought, how did she know? a small smile broke free from his lips as you scanned the rest of him. there was no denying it, he was one of the most handsome men you'd ever seen, and especially today, the way the dark-washed jeans hugged his muscular thighs, and the black muscle tee leaving nothing to the imagination. you didn't know much about him, but you desperately wanted to change that.

simon took a step towards you and lifted his balaclava up just enough to bend down and kiss your cheek. you gasped at the action, tensing completely as he said, "thank you, sweetheart."

as he started to walk away, your brain finally caught to up reality. you shouted after him, "please be safe!" simon turned around at your words, "you too, dovey."

a few days had gone by since you'd seen simon, and as you were picking out pajamas for bed, you found an adorable lingerie set you'd forgotten you'd even had. it was a lace, blush pink babydoll nightgown, with a bow in the back. you slipped it over your head, and felt the prettiest you had in a while as you looked in the mirror. it hugged your hips just right, and sloped down in the front, showing your full tits, as well as the skin down your back.

as you made your way to the kitchen, you could hear simons loud footsteps coming down the apartment hallway. this was your chance, you thought. you were going to show yourself off to him, win him over. and as you looked in the peephole, not only did you see him, but you saw a package waiting for you as well. the perfect excuse!

you opened the door with a twinkle in your eye as simon turned around.

he swallowed hard, and did a double take as his eyes wandered over you. it was too much for him, the way he could see your perky nipples through the thin fabric. the thought of his teeth grazing them rushed into his mind, and it only got worse as you bent down to get your package. you tease him like this regularly, but this time, you turned around first.

simon growled under his breath as he got a view of your pretty ass cheeks just barely hanging out from your nightgown. he could faintly see a tight pink thong as well, a perfect match for your set.

you were really testing his patience, but to your surprise, he hadn't made any moves yet. so you told yourself you'd try one more time, before leaning up and swaying over to him. you placed a hand on his chest and signaled him to lean down to you like you were going to tell him a secret.

"I'm wearing this for you, y'know" you whispered, as you pushed your tits up against his chest.

that was all it took for simon to grab you by the hips and throw you over his shoulder, smacking your ass as he hauled you into his flat.

"teasy cunt, aren't you?" he said as he threw you onto his bed. you tried to crawl away, but he grabbed you by the ankles and pulled you back, "nuh uh, you've made it this far. you better sit tight and take the rest."

simon grabbed you by the hips and leaned down to kiss you, his teeth softly nipping at your bottom lip before breaking apart, "I don't even know your fucking name," he whispered as he kissed the length of your neck. you groaned at the feeling of him sucking a small hickey right under your ear.

"y/n. it's y/n." you breathed out as his lips latched on to one of your nipples, you swallowed hard at the pleasure, "fuck yes, feels -mmph- feels good." he smiled at your mindless babbling, and the vibration of his groaning sent shock waves of heat through your body.

"simon," you asked

"hmm?" he latched on to the other nipple, while your hand ran through his hair.

"why did you need to know my name now? couldn't -mmn- couldn't that have waited?" you whispered as he shifted up so that he was eye level with you, his lips hovering just over yours.

"hmm-mm, need'ta know who's name I should groan when I finish inside you."

[humanjarvis]

an off day

synopsis: zayne has an off day, so you make him take one.

tags: reverse comfort, angst, fluff, heart to heart, zayne shuts down at the hospital one day, he cries in your arms on a bench, he’s having an existential crisis, i accidentally wrote overachiever gifted kid zayne, think of him like a confused baby deer, size difference, side character death, a very infatuated siamese cat, something something zayne’s subtle attempts to reclaim dominance/dependability after being taken care of (you notice them all). takes place in autumn because i yearn for it

pairing: zayne x fem reader

word count: 3.5k

a/n: zayne brain

Akso Hospital’s parking lot is the emptiest you’ve ever seen it.

The Wednesday starlight is partly to blame. There’s not much traffic at 8 p.m. on a weekday—which makes your current predicament all the more confusing. 

It’d been a standard day at work: emails, meetings, and sneaking out 10 minutes early. But right before you’d stepped into the shower at Zayne's house, your phone had rung.

“Yvonne? Hello?” 

“Um, hello! I’m so sorry to call like this, but we really don’t know what else to do. Dr. Zayne is really…shaken? He’s not hurt, but he’s not responding to any of us, and you’re his first emergency contact. Please come down to Akso as soon as you can!”

You’d re-dressed in record time. 

As you step through the sliding doors, their glass panels reflecting the towering streetlights, you note the hallways are as empty as the parking lot. You suppose it’s a good thing—for a hospital not to be busy, and all—but the absence of friendly faces makes you quicken your steps. 

At the end of the hall, you jam the elevator button to his floor, unease prickling at the back of your mind. 

You sigh in familiarity when the doors open. A confused-looking Yvonne is speaking with the receptionist at the front desk, but she ends the conversation as soon as she spots you. 

“Thank you for coming. I didn’t know what to do! I just—this doesn’t happen to him,” she rushes out, shaking her head profusely. “I see it with the others, but never him.” 

You touch her elbow in gratitude and offer a smile. “Thank you for calling. You did the right thing. Where is he?” 

Relieved, she turns toward the end of the hallway, where the edge of a sleek wooden bench protrudes past the wall. “Just down there,” she says, pointing a finger around the corner. “Thank god we aren’t busy tonight. It’s been deserted up here since the last surgery.” 

The last surgery. 

“Thanks,” you breathe, trying not to wonder what that could mean. “I’ll take care of it from here, don’t worry. You should go home and get some rest.” With a short wave, you set off down the hallway, passing vibrant anatomic murals and pediatric patient artwork. With every step, your breaths shallow and your pulse quickens. You don’t know what you’ll find at the end.

Your steps falter when you round the corner. 

In all the time you’d known him, Zayne had never wavered. He offered tireless strength and support—displayed composure you could only dream of. He was your Atlas, except he shouldered the weight of the world not out of punishment, but out of duty. 

But in that moment, he was an uprooted anchor, drifting through sloshing seas. 

His bowed head, shaky hands, and shuddering shoulders. The sheen coating his pale face. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he’d seen a ghost. 

With an ache in your chest, you approach, but Zayne’s head stays low. Only when your favorite teal-and-white tennis shoes come into view do his glistening eyes snap up. 

Shock and longing color his face a rosy pink, matching the fading imprint from his surgical mask. Wordlessly, he reaches for you. 

Unsteady arms wrap around you as you move between his legs, cradling his head into the crook of your elbow. Your chin covers his hair this way, and you slant your cheek to nuzzle into him. 

“Hi,” you whisper, gently stroking his soft strands. 

“Hi.” By the rasp in his voice, it’s the first time he’s spoken in hours.

Your heart clenches. “Are you tired?”

A long exhale fans across your arm. And then, he nods.

You’re forced to blink back tears of your own when his drop onto your skin. 

This was uncharted territory. Thousands of thoughts, thousands of actions mill about in your mind, but you’re not sure which to settle on. Right now, you can only tell him what you’d want to hear. “I love you.” 

His voice trembles as his arms tighten. “I love you, too.” 

You’re not sure how long you embrace him. When his breathing evens, you lift his chin, smiling gently down at his flushed face. “Is your shift almost over?”

He nods once, solemn.

“Let’s go back to your office. I’ll sit with you.” 

You successfully coax him off the bench, guiding him through the halls to his empty office. But after a few minutes of signing paperwork, his gaze is on you. He eyes you forlornly, not saying anything—and he wouldn't have said anything had you not noticed.

Your lips quirk. “Your work is down there, silly.” 

He blinks. 

Chuckling softly, you rise from his guest chair and hang your purse on its arm. A few steps later, and he’s pulling you toward him and burying his face in your stomach. 

You let him, but raise his head soon after. Again, he greets you with glassy green eyes.

“I’ve never seen you like this before,” you murmur.

“I’ve never been like this before.”

Quiet ambient music fills the car ride home. 

Pulling into his driveway, you switch off the ignition and quickly circle around to take his hand when he steps out. 

Pretending not to notice the way his cheeks flush, you lead him to the doorway and press his thumb to the sensor, letting out a breath when it lights up green. 

Once inside, you head straight for his bedroom. In the dim lamplight, you help him out of his disheveled scrubs, smiling softly when he avoids eye contact. After undressing yourself, you tug him toward the master bathroom, where you run the shower on hot. 

Through the mist, you lather soap over his body, washing his hair of the beads of sweat that’d gathered before your arrival. 

You step out once you’re both clean. Zayne follows, reaching for one of your matching towels, but your hand intercepts his halfway. Shaking your head softly, you lift the towel from the rack and wrap it around him, catching the steam that still rises from his skin as you gently pat him dry. Through it all, he allows you, taking his nightclothes from you when you finish.  

Under normal circumstances, you’d expect a smart remark—a sideways glance as he subtly reminded you he wasn’t a child. But tonight, Zayne is pliant. Deferent. He utters not a word of protest, his trusting hazel eyes trained on you as he waits for you to move him along.

Once you dry yourself off and slip on your nightshirt, you do exactly that: taking his hand and heading back toward his room, gently pushing him down on the bed. His grip tightens when you turn to switch off the lamp, and it takes a soothing grin and touch of his cheek for him to reluctantly let you go. 

When you slide into bed next to him, his arms encircle you instantly. He tucks his head in your shoulder, and you reach up to stroke his raven hair.

“Good night” are your last words tonight.

“I love you” are his. 

It’s late morning when Zayne hurries down the stairs, the pads of his slippers smacking against the floor. When he sees you at the kitchen counter, tapping your phone next to a bowl of cereal, he stops in his tracks. “When someone’s alarm doesn’t go off, it’s generally nice to wake them up in its place,” he chides, visibly trying to suppress his irritation.

“Generally,” you repeat. “But…what if you didn’t go to work today?” you ask, tone gentle so the suggestion doesn’t send him into shock.

It’s only slightly helpful. Suddenly wary, he narrows his eyes in suspicion. “What do you mean? My rounds are scheduled as normal, and I have several reports to complete.”

You scratch your neck. “But what if I already called Yvonne about it, and she and Greyson and your whole team agree you shouldn't go to work today?” you reveal with a sheepish smile.

“You….” His eyes fall closed in an intense grimace. “And all of them agreed?”

Smile widening, you put your palms up in defense. “Yes. But you don’t have to spend the day inside! I’ve been looking for things for us to do around town. Think of it like a short vacation!” you cheer, hopping off your chair to wave his arms in excitement. 

Oversized sleeves billowing in the air, Zayne sighs in defeat. “What do you have planned?”

After a quick drive to the parking garage downtown, you walk hand-in-hand past closely packed buildings, coming to a stop outside a recently opened cat café.

Spinning around, you make a ta-da gesture. He snorts. 

“The first time we tried to come, you got called in for an emergency surgery. So I thought we could go in today! But only if you want to, of course,” you say quickly. 

The beginnings of mirth glitter in his gaze. Stepping forward, he holds the door for you like he always does—as if the way he’d let you lead him last night were but a distant memory. You study him for a moment, noting the quiet plea in his hazel eyes, before brushing a kiss on his cheek and strolling inside.

“Welcome!” the greeter calls as the strong scent of coffee hits your nose. “We’re glad to have you here! Feel free to take a look around and play with the cats, and order when you’re ready!” 

Nodding your thanks, you shift your attention to the cats’ biographies on the wall to your right. “Look, Zayne! This one was rescued from a house fire an—Zayne?” 

The man who’d walked in right behind you has disappeared. Panic fills you for just a second—until you spot him at the coffee bar, nodding along as the barista repeats his order. Him and his sweet drinks. 

Marching up to collect him, you tuck your arm in his and settle at a table on the back wall. 

Three white kittens, most likely siblings, chase balls of fuzz in the corner. To your left, an adult Persian cat lounges on a tower, its tail lashing with superiority. As you wait for your order, you and Zayne are so engrossed in your surroundings that you fail to notice the besotted Siamese in front of you. 

Until it leaps and lands right on Zayne’s lap, that is. 

Mroww, it purrs, affectionately bumping its head into his chin. Startled, he looks to you with wide eyes, hand hovering over the cat’s arched back. 

You almost fall out in laughter. Almost. But instead, you spare him and nod encouragingly, guiding his hand down to pet its sleek coat. “Well, who’s this?” you chuckle, running your fingers through its short fur. 

“That,” your server interjects, setting your drinks down and scratching the cat’s ears, “would be S’mores. She’s the oldest cat here. And very friendly.” 

“Hello, S’mores,” Zayne murmurs, and she bumps his chin again. 

S’mores doesn’t leave you—doesn’t leave him, rather—for the next hour. When he stands to throw your cups away, she meows in protest, digging her claws into his shirt. For a moment, he looks as though she’s going to eat him, but he schools his nerves quickly, this time. “Now, now,” he shushes. “We’ll be back.” 

A few shops down from the café lies a retro ice cream parlor. The shopkeeper’s bell jingles as you step inside, surveying the pink stools and checkered floors. 

“Hi!” you greet the teenage cashier. “He’ll have three scoops of green tea, and I’ll get one of taro, thanks.”

“Cups or cones?” the cashier asks, looking utterly bored with everything but the man behind you. 

You smile at her in understanding. At least she has taste. “Cups, please.” 

Hearing rustling behind you, you turn your head and see Zayne reaching into his back pocket. “Oh, I’ll get it,” you chirp, digging inside your purse for your wallet. 

He barely spares you a glance before laying a generous bill on the counter. “Can she get an extra scoop, please?” 

Taking small spoonfuls of ice cream, you follow the winding sidewalks outside the parlor in comfortable silence. Before long, a city park comes into view, its verdant grounds preceded by a shimmering pond. The ducks’ multicolored feathers are almost iridescent in the afternoon sun.

Pointing to the wooden feeder ahead, you slow your steps. “You want to?” 

Before you finish the question, Zayne is already pulling coins from his wallet, handing them to you with a soft smile. “Of course.” 

After you slide the coins in the machine, unappetizing pellets fall from the dispenser into a complimentary feeding cup. For several minutes, you take turns sprinkling them into the water, watching as the ducks paddle over to you with intrigue. The bobs of their sleek heads create turquoise ripples across the surface, while you rest your own on Zayne’s shoulder. 

After a while, he takes your empty ice cream cup and heads for the nearest trash can. 

You smile at him when he returns. “You’ve been so chivalrous today. It’s like I’ve stepped into a fairytale.” 

He cuts his eyes at you before placing a hand on the small of your back, urging you down the twisting park path. “If you don’t feel like that every day, then it seems I need to work harder.” 

“‘Work harder’ shouldn’t be in your vocabulary,” you chide. Then, your voice softens. “You always make me feel that way. Today, it’s just…extra. And I love gentleman Zayne—very much—but he’s just as cute when he’s clingy in his sleep,” you promise, nudging his thigh with your hip. 

He clears his throat. “He’ll make a note of that.” 

After a few more minutes of walking, a fork in your path prompts a moment of indecision. Go left, and you’re sure to have the conversation that he may not be ready for. Straight? An hour more of idle chatter before you head home in the setting sun. And right…well, to the right is the 4-foot-tall jungle gym, so you’re not too worried about ending up there. 

Before you can ask which way, Zayne tightens his grip on your waist and turns left, ambling over to the blue and gray swing set. 

You smile to yourself. He’s being brave.

As you settle on the sun-warmed swing, the tips of your shoes drag back and forth in the gravel below. Dust kicks up on the pristine leather, turning white to beige, but Zayne’s earnest voice interrupts your grieving. 

“I had a good day today. Thank you.” 

You’re not swinging very high—only a couple feet off the ground—but compared to him, you might as well be on Mount Everest. Chuckling softly, you reach down and join hands, pulling him with you into the air. “What was so good about it?”

He delays his answer, his startled eyes widening with each rock back and forth. Only when he gets used to the movements does he elaborate. “It was peaceful. I did things and went places I’d never had the chance to before. And I got to spend time with you.” 

You hum. “So it has everything to do with where you were, and nothing to do with where you weren’t?”

He’s silent for a moment. Trees rustle in the quiet, their scarlet leaves dancing on wavering limbs before succumbing to the gentle autumn breeze. 

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don't want to.”

“It’s alright,” he murmurs. “It’s only fair I tell the one who came to rescue me why she had to.”

“It might be fair,” you nod, turning to meet his emerald gaze. “But do you want to?”

His lips twitch. “I want to.”

Digging your heels into the gravel below, you halt his and your momentum, giving him your undivided attention. 

“A teenage patient received an emergency surgery yesterday. Complications with congenital heart disease,” he begins. “I’d spoken with him a few times prior, and we got along quite well. Aspiring physician, set to graduate at the top of his class. The only thing was, he’d often worry about…missed experiences. He didn’t attend school dances or athletic events. His older sister gave birth last spring, but he missed it due to a college entrance exam.” 

“That sounds lonely,” you offer, rubbing your thumb across the back of his hand. 

“Yes. He was very lonely,” Zayne agrees. “He was lonely up until the moment he flatlined on the operating table.” His hand flexes in yours, and you tighten your grip. 

Blowing out a breath, you ask what you already know the answer to. “And he…?”

“Did not respond to resuscitation attempts.”

Your chest hollows at the words. To lose someone so young…to lose anyone at all…. “I’m so sorry, Zayne. If I had known—”

“Oddly enough, his passing wasn’t the main cause of what happened yesterday. It only exacerbated the issue at hand.” 

Knitting your eyebrows, you wait for him to continue. 

“Yesterday,” he pauses, “was a lesson learned. Because I realized I also lack those experiences. And I thought, if someone a decade younger than me left his life with so much regret, then….” He swallows thickly. “If I were to die today, I’d have dedicated my life to this pursuit. But what would I have done outside of that? What stories would be told of me, other than those that took place in a classroom or a hospital?” 

A mix of emotions renews the ache in your chest. Pity, fear, surprise, understanding. “You saw yourself in him.” 

Watching a group of boys climb on the jungle gym, he interlaces your fingers. “I did. For a second, it was me on the operating table. Is that selfish of me?”

Humming, you draw swirling patterns in the gravel. “I don't think so. I'd hope no one would,” you muse. “Zayne, you…are the smartest, most hardworking person I know. But sometimes, I wonder how much that took from you.” At the admission, you expect his eyes to widen, his lips to tug into a frown. But all he does is eye you expectantly, with all the trust in the world. And you know it’s okay to continue. 

“You always knew what you wanted to do growing up—you wanted to help people. You wanted to save lives. You wanted to practice medicine. There was always a goal, right? And you were always sprinting toward it. I mean, you were in algebra when your agemates were still stuck on multiplication tables,” you recall, playfully wiggling his hand in the air. “But maybe in choosing what you wanted to do…you overlooked who you wanted to be?” 

The question floats like the leaves in the wind, and for a moment, you think he’s just like them. Beautiful, vital, but just a little lost. He purses his lips, a contemplative pout forming on his face, but says nothing. 

“Forget about medicine for a second, Zaynie. Don’t look at me like that—I know it’ll be hard, but try. Now, what sort of things do you like? What are you passionate about? When you look back on your life, what kind of experiences will you want to have had? A few minutes ago, you asked how others would describe you. But how would you describe yourself? Who is Zayne when he’s not striving for something?” 

“I….” He pauses, voice dwindling into a whisper. Last night’s expression creeps back onto his face. “I’m not sure.” 

“That’s okay.” Nodding your encouragement, you rise from your swing and stand just in front of his, slotting your legs between his knees and cupping his cheek. You’re just a bit taller than him like this. “To me, Zayne is a gentleman who likes sweets and animals and is adorably afraid to swing too high. He helps people, not because he’s a doctor, but because he’s kind and compassionate—even when he doesn’t show it. And he’s still figuring some things out about himself, but that’s okay because I'm proud of him.” You beam. “Your turn.” 

Sometime during your speech, his face had softened. He chuckles lightly before obliging. “To me, Zayne is…a pragmatist. And he’s cautious, not afraid,” he adds, narrowing his eyes when you shrug. “He can be cold when he doesn’t mean to be. He’s curious, but often too timid to satisfy those curiosities without someone by his side. And he wants to be someone…who doesn’t live with regret for his missed experiences,” he finishes, hazel eyes twinkling up at you. “Perhaps that’s why I felt so happy today. You give me new experiences, every time we’re together. Which is why, if you’re willing, I’d like to make up for lost time and make more memories with you. What do you say?” 

“I say,” you drawl, flitting your eyes to the structure behind him, “have you ever been on a carousel?” 

His brows furrow as he turns his head, catching your hand in his when it slips off his cheek. “I can’t say that I have.” 

“Then let’s go!” you giggle, hauling him up with all your strength. “The sun won’t set for another 30 minutes. And while we’re at it, I’ll race you there!” 

[akeaaan]

Until You Called Me Bipa Again

➤ part2

⤷ Jinu x fem reader: reincarnation, angst, slight smut, fluff, flashbacks ‿◞ ྀི 3.6k words

𝟒𝟎𝟎 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐠𝐨, 𝐉𝐢𝐧𝐮 𝐦𝐞𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞—𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐞. 〃✦ ┆You appeared like a ghost from a forgotten past—fierce, untouchable, and destined to fade. But fate has a twisted sense of humor. Now in the modern day, with neon lights replacing ancient lanterns and stages replacing palace halls, Jinu's memories aren’t as buried as he thought. Because you're back. And this time, the past isn’t staying buried.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Four Hundred Years Ago

In the dust-covered alleys of the capital, where noblemen never walked and lanterns flickered only on festival nights, Jinu lived a life stripped of comfort and pride. No father. No home. Only his mother's fading warmth and the frail laughter of his younger sister kept him tethered to hope.

His most prized possession—an old, cracked bipa, passed down from a grandfather he never knew. The strings buzzed, and his fingers ached from the cold, but Jinu still played. He sang in the markets, in the gutters, in front of taverns full of drunken men—pleading silently for someone to toss a coin, to hear him, to see him.

But hunger does not wait for dreams.

His mother collapsed one evening with nothing but water in her stomach. His sister cried herself to sleep from the pain of it. Desperation crept into his soul like frostbite.

And then he heard it. A voice—silken and venomous—whispered to him as he sat alone under a half-shattered bridge:

"You desire more, do you not?" "Let me make you heard. Let me make you needed."

"...Who are you?" Jinu whispered, heart hammering.

"I am Gwi Ma. And you are meant for more than this filth."

His voice shattering and reforging like molten metal. And when he awoke, the streets no longer spat him out.

He sang again.

But this time, the crowds stopped. This time, the nobles listened. This time, even the king heard of the boy with the voice that could silence war drums.

And so, Jinu was brought into the palace.

The King—stern, aging, but not yet cold—was taken by him. "Sing for me," he commanded. "Often." And he did.

The palace gave Jinu more than gold. He was granted silk robes. Hot meals. His mother nursed back to health. His sister given a tutor. They lived in a small but gracious home within the inner court walls.

Jinu thought this was it. That he had found peace.

Until the day you entered the throne room.

He remembered the moment with perfect clarity.

He was seated cross-legged beside the King's throne, plucking the bipa with practiced grace. His song—an ancient lullaby his mother used to hum—echoed softly in the high-ceilinged chamber.

Then:

The creak of massive double doors. The scrape of delicate slippers on stone. A rustle of silk robes.

His fingers froze on the strings.

You stepped into the light, flanked by your ladies-in-waiting, your posture poised, your chin held high with the quiet command of someone raised among power and etiquette. The King's daughter—his only heir.

Jinu's fingers froze on the strings.

He didn't need introductions.

He knew you — the King's daughter, the only heir of the throne. The Moon of the Court. The Jewel of Joseon.

You moved with reverence, stepping before your father and bowing deeply. As you rose, your eyes — thoughtful, soft, but unreadable — swept across the room.

And then, they landed on him.

Jinu's breath caught.

Your eyes met his, and in that fleeting moment, the sound of his bipa faded into silence.

The court didn't notice — the strings still hummed beneath his fingertips — but Jinu's world had stopped.

There was something in your gaze. Not just nobility or beauty, though you had both in abundance. It was clarity. As though you could see right through him — past the silks he now wore, past the voice that earned him this false paradise — and into the starving boy who once sang in the streets for scraps.

Your gaze lingered a heartbeat longer than custom allowed, then drifted back to your father with a serene smile.

Jinu looked down quickly, his hands trembling slightly as he resumed playing.

He felt something unfamiliar bloom in his chest. Longing? Awe? He didn't know. He only knew that from this moment on, he would remember your gaze more vividly than any melody he ever composed.

You huffed, the weight of your wooden sword pressing against your palms as you swung it in a clean arc across the open courtyard. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon, casting a golden hue across the stone tiles. Each strike of your blade echoed through the palace grounds with sharp precision.

Across from you stood General Jae-won, his arms calmly folded behind his back. A soft, approving smile played on his lips.

"You've improved, Princess," he said, voice warm with pride.

You rolled your wrist and slashed downward with more force, the movement fluid.

"Have I now?" you asked, glancing at him with a smirk tugging at your lips.

Jae-won chuckled under his breath and nodded. "Indeed. At this rate, I might retire early and let you lead my troops."

You were about to retort when the distant sound of footsteps made you pause. Your attention shifted to the far side of the courtyard. A figure moved along the palace walkway — poised, graceful, and unfamiliar.

A young man in soft robes, his hair tied neatly, a bipa cradled gently in his arms. His stride was unhurried, yet there was a quiet intensity about him that made the world around you still.

He passed by, and for a brief heartbeat, his gaze met yours.

Dark eyes. Steady. Curious. But just as quickly, he turned on his heel and disappeared into the corridor beyond.

You blinked, brows furrowing. "Who was that?" you asked aloud, more to yourself than anyone else.

Jae-won had been watching too. He cleared his throat and turned to you with a faint look of amusement. "That would be Jinu," he said simply.

"Jinu?" you echoed, unfamiliar with the name. "I don't recall anyone by that name before I left for the Eastern etiquette academies."

"He arrived not long after your departure," Jae-won explained. "A musician... of sorts. The king's new favorite."

Your frown deepened. "I was the king's favorite."

That earned a low laugh from the general. "You still are, but His Majesty has many interests. Jinu... he brings something different."

You narrowed your eyes, still staring in the direction the stranger had gone. "What kind of musician draws the king's attention like that?"

Jae-won's expression shifted to something more thoughtful — even a little enchanted.

"His voice," he said quietly. "It's magical, Princess. Some say it's been blessed by the heavens themselves."

You scoffed, but your curiosity was piqued. A musician with the king's favor? A voice like magic?

You were a warrior, a princess of steel and fire.

But suddenly, you wanted to hear him sing.

Later that night, the palace was quiet—too quiet.

You moved with calculated steps, the silk of your robes brushing against stone floors as you slipped past your chamber doors. Every creak of wood and distant voice sent a shiver of caution up your spine. The guards were making their rounds, and the ever-watchful maids lurked like shadows in the halls, quick to report anything out of the ordinary to the king. You, however, had learned their patterns. This wasn't your first midnight escape.

You were the crown jewel of the kingdom—the king's only child. A daughter, yes, but no less an heir. Unlike the sons of kings before you, your claim to the throne had always been a matter of scrutiny. Many whispered that a queen could not rule alone, not in a world dominated by men. Your parents had tried for another child, a son to ease the burden placed on your shoulders. But the stars were not kind.

Each pregnancy after you ended in grief—miscarriages, premature births, and one heart-wrenching stillborn. The palace physician warned that another attempt could take your mother's life. Your father, once a fierce warrior now a softer man in love, refused to risk her again. When his court advised concubines, he refused them all. "One child is enough," he had said. "My daughter will be a great queen one day."

But such love came with weight. You bore it in silence—in your etiquette training, in your endless political tutoring, in your sword drills that left your hands bruised and raw. The pressure of a nation sat on your shoulders before your crown ever would.

And so, when the walls felt too tight and the crown too heavy, you sought air. Solace. Escape.

Your feet led you where they always did on nights like these—to the hidden lake just beyond the palace walls. It was a secret place tucked among the willows and stones, a patch of serenity you'd claimed as your own since childhood. There, you'd sit in silence, letting the moonlight kiss your skin, watching the fish stir beneath the ripples. It was your peace.

But tonight, peace was not alone.

You slowed as you reached the final bend of the narrow path, your slippers landing silently on the dew-damp earth. You stepped carefully from rock to rock across the stream, aiming for the familiar curve of the shore where you always sat—and then you froze.

Someone was already there.

A lone figure stood at the water's edge, tall and still, as though part of the night itself. The moonlight reflected off his silhouette, illuminating long dark hair and broad shoulders. He didn't belong to the palace guard—his stance was too relaxed, his presence too... wild.

Your heart thudded in your chest. A civilian?

Panic swept over you. If he turned around, if he saw your face—if word reached your father that his daughter had wandered alone in the dead of night—

You turned on your heel swiftly, aiming to disappear before the stranger noticed. But luck betrayed you.

Snap.

A twig cracked under your foot like thunder in the silence.

You froze in place, breath caught, lowering your head and turning slightly away to shield your identity. Your back remained toward him, posture rigid.

You didn't dare breathe.

The sound of fabric shifting came next, soft footsteps turning your way. The voice that followed was calm, smooth—almost amused.

"I wasn't expecting company tonight."

It was a man's voice. Warm. Young. Not startled, not suspicious... curious.

You didn't answer.

"You've been here before, haven't you?" he asked again, softer this time. "I've seen your footprints by the water."

Your shoulders stiffened.

You heard the faint rustle of grass beneath someone's footfall.

Your body tensed instinctively.

He stepped forward—just one pace—but it was enough to close the distance.

You exhaled, a long sigh of resignation slipping past your lips. There was no point in keeping your back to him anymore. You slowly raised your arms in mock surrender and turned to face the stranger—only to freeze the moment your eyes met his.

"...Bipa," you blurted out—the first word that shot through your panicked mind.

A beat of silence passed.

"...Excuse me?" the man replied, tilting his head slightly. His voice was calm, but confused. You wanted to crawl into the earth.

You mentally face-palmed so hard it echoed in your skull. Of course. Out of all things to say...

You were physically trained for battle, swift with the blade, fierce with your hands—but mentally? You had the memory span of a goldfish.

"Your Highness?" he added, this time his voice gentle, curious. "Are you alright?"

Your lips parted. "You..."

You hesitated as your gaze took in the contours of his face, now clearer in the moonlight. His features were familiar, sharp yet graceful—beautiful in the kind of way that left you disarmed.

You slowly lowered your hands.

"The guy with the... bipa," you finally said, squinting as if the memory would sharpen if you stared hard enough.

He blinked. Then, with a hint of amused patience, he corrected you.

"Jinu."

"Right..." you muttered, voice trailing off in awkward defeat. "Jinu."

He smiled softly—just a twitch of his lips, but it was enough to make your ears burn.

"I see you come here often, Your Highness," Jinu said with a small, curious smile, the moonlight catching the sharp angles of his face.

You rolled your eyes and waved him off with a sigh. "Just Y/N," you corrected, your voice soft but firm. "We're not in the palace right now."

Jinu tilted his head, amused, the corner of his mouth lifting in a smile. "No, we're not," he agreed easily, his tone light, like he was testing the boundaries of a secret.

You turned your head slightly, catching a distant view of the glowing lanterns lining the palace rooftops. They flickered like stars in the distance, unreachable yet always watching. A breath hitched in your throat.

"Don't..." you started, your voice catching in the cold night air as you clenched your fists at your sides. "Don't tell my father."

Jinu raised a brow, pretending to consider your request. "That you've been sneaking out?" he asked, teasing laced in his voice.

You scoffed quietly. "It's called getting fresh air."

He chuckled, stepping aside to make way for you. "A royal taking midnight strolls like a runaway? Scandalous."

You brushed past him, clutching your arms tightly to your chest as a chill swept across the lakeside. The moon's reflection shimmered on the water like silver silk, and for a moment, neither of you spoke.

The silence stretched, awkward but not uncomfortable.

Then, Jinu's voice broke through the quiet as he made his way towards you. "You always come here alone?"

You nodded slowly, your gaze still on the moonlit sky. "It's nice to get away from time to time..." you murmured, your voice soft.

Jinu hummed in response. He was now standing behind you, not too close, but close enough for his presence to feel warm. The both of you watched in silence as the clouds drifted across the face of the moon, casting fleeting shadows across the grass.

"You snitch me out, and I swear I'll break that bipa of yours—" you joked, stepping forward with a teasing tone.

But your foot landed wrong.

The soft soil beneath had turned slick from the earlier rain, and before you could catch yourself, your balance gave way. A startled gasp escaped your lips as the world seemed to tilt.

And then— Strong fingers curled around your wrist in a firm, instinctive grip.

Your body jolted, but you didn't hit the ground. Instead, you found yourself caught, leaning into Jinu's chest as he held you with one arm wrapped around your waist, the other still grasping your wrist.

For a heartbeat, neither of you moved.

You could feel his breath brush against your ear, warm and steady. His heartbeat thudded just a bit too fast, matching your own. The world had gone still again—except for the racing pulse between the two of you.

"...You good?" Jinu asked, voice low, but there was something different in his tone now. Softer. Less teasing.

You tilted your head up slightly, your eyes meeting his. "Thanks for catching me..."

He didn't let go. Not right away.

Instead, his gaze lingered on you longer than it should have, his dark eyes searching your face like he was trying to memorize it under the moonlight.

"You should be more careful," he muttered, but it sounded more like a confession than a scolding.

Your fingers brushed against his chest as you steadied yourself, and for a moment, neither of you moved to pull away.

"...I'm starting to think you like saving me," you whispered.

His lips curved, just barely. "Maybe," he said, almost too quietly. "Maybe I do."

The first time had been an accident.

But now... it was almost tradition.

Midnight after midnight, you'd sneak away from your chamber under the watch of sleeping guards, your steps light and practiced as you made your way to the hidden lake beyond the palace walls. And always—without fail—he would be there, waiting beneath the moonlight with his bipa resting against his lap, his gentle smile like a secret only you were allowed to see.

Jinu.

The court musician. Your father's prized performer. A boy once plucked from the streets and gifted a place in the palace because of a voice that could tame demons and move spirits.

He should have remained just that—your father's favorite.

But you ruined that boundary long ago.

You formed something with Jinu that words could not contain. A sacred bond built in glances and moments stolen between royal walls. No one knew. No one could.

Each time you passed him in the palace halls, your pinky would subtly hook with his. At the banquets, when all eyes were elsewhere, your gaze would find his. And when he sang by the lake, you'd sit by his side, laying your head on his shoulder, listening as each strum of his bipa lulled you into a peace no one else could offer.

You had brought him to your chambers before. But tonight felt different.

The silk sheets clung to your bare skin, warm from the heat between your bodies. Jinu lay in front of you, face soft with exhaustion and love, your fingers threading through his damp hair. His lips trailed kisses along your neck, slow and reverent, as he moved inside you.

Your breath hitched. A quiet moan escaped your lips before you could hold it back.

It was wrong—every bit of this. He was your father's musician. A servant in your world. And yet...

Yet your heart didn't care for titles.

He buried his face in the crook of your neck, breath uneven, arms tightening around you. His final thrust left him trembling against you, his skin pressed to yours like he didn't want to ever let go.

You swallowed hard, throat dry from the sounds you had made earlier, still too breathless to speak.

Then, barely above a whisper, you heard him.

"I love you,"

The words left his lips like a prayer. Fragile. Honest. Final.

You blinked, heart still racing, your hand still in his hair.

“I love you too,” you whispered, your voice trembling—barely audible beneath the weight of fate.

Even if the world would never let it last.

And it didn’t.

The sound of chains echoed louder than your heartbeat. Jinu turned one last time, just in time to see you thrashing in General Jae-Won’s merciless grip. His arms locked around you like iron, holding you back as if you were the one who committed a crime.

“Father, please!!” you cried out, your voice raw, cracking. Your nails dug into the general’s sleeves, desperately trying to free yourself—but it was no use. He wouldn’t let go.

You could barely see through the tears, but Jinu could still see you. He always did.

“LET HIM GO!” you screamed again, your voice echoing through the royal courtyard like thunder.

Your father stood unmoved at the top of the palace steps, adorned in royal robes, his crown catching the sunlight like a blade. His expression was colder than winter steel, his eyes locked with Jinu’s—not as a boy who had grown up beside his daughter, but as something less than human now.

As something cursed.

Jinu’s gaze dropped slowly to his trembling hands. The marks were spreading—dark, curling demonic patterns twisting up his arms, glowing faintly with a cruel hunger. They climbed past his wrists, slithering over his skin like vines. Reaching for his throat. His face.

He remembered the laughter that used to fill these palace walls.

The scent of incense during evening prayers.

Your smile.

The warmth of your pinky finger brushing against his under the palace hallways.

He had forgotten how it felt to be anything other than damned.

Gwi-ma.

You screamed again—your voice nothing short of devastation—and he flinched at the sound. But the guards didn’t stop. They dragged him forward, one step at a time, toward exile. Toward darkness.

Still, he turned his head.

Just once more.

His eyes found yours.

Tears streaked down your cheeks, mouth open in a silent sob. Everything in you was breaking—your heart, your voice, your soul. And yet, there it was.

Love. Guilt. And last...

Betrayal.

Because even though you loved him—more than anything in this cursed world—you weren’t enough to stop this.

Not this time.

And he knew…

Neither was he

Four hundred years.

It had been four centuries since the last time he saw you—not like this.

Back then, your arms were open and warm. Back then, your smile reached your eyes. Back then, he could pretend he wasn’t what he was. Neither of you were enemies.

Neither was he.

But now… now you stood before him again—on a quiet rooftop at the edge of the city, bathed in neon light and moonshine. The wind tousled your hair, but you were as steady as ever. Same face. Same voice. But not the same heart.

This time, your arms weren’t open.

This time, they held a sword. Pointed at his chest.

Your stance was firm, your blade unwavering, its silver glint reflecting the city behind you. You weren’t just someone from his past anymore.

You were a K-pop idol now... and worse— A demon hunter.

His enemy.

Jinu's lips parted slightly, breath catching in his throat as recognition lit up his eyes, soft and conflicted. Slowly, carefully, he raised his hands in surrender, stepping into the glow of a nearby billboard.

His voice came out low. Almost broken.

“...Y/N…”

The sound of your name from his lips made your heart skip, if only for a second—but you didn’t let it show.

You pressed the blade closer to his chest, the tip grazing fabric.

“I don’t have time for your games, demon,” you said, your voice sharp. “Whatever I was before… that’s gone now.”

You took a step forward.

So did he.

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t fight.

His eyes searched yours, like he was trying to find the version of you that used to laugh under cherry blossom trees.

“Maybe it’s gone for you,” Jinu murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “But not for me.”

The wind stirred, lifting a few strands of your hair. You felt it—like the ghost of a memory brushing against your skin. A fragment of laughter. A night under moon light. His hand reaching for yours.

You blinked it away.

“I said don’t test me,” you warned, though your hand trembled ever so slightly against the hilt.

“I’m not,” he said gently. “I’m just... remembering.”

His gaze softened, no longer sharp like a warrior's—but tender, human.

“You once told me I made the stars feel closer,” he said. “That when we danced, it felt like the world paused.”

Your throat tightened.

That memory wasn’t his to bring up. Not now. Not after everything.

But Jinu didn’t move.

He just stood there, bare-chested and vulnerable before your blade, eyes never leaving yours.

“I don’t care what they turned you into,” he said. “If even a piece of you remembers... then I’ll wait.”

You hesitated.

Just long enough for the blade to lower—only an inch. But it was enough.

He noticed.

And he smiled, just a little. The kind of smile that hurt more than any wound.

You turned sharply before he could say another word, retreating into the shadows without looking back.

But deep in your chest, where old feelings had long been buried…

...something stirred.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

➤ part2

a/n: This is actually my first time posting a oneshot on tmblr so I'm really lost lol but I actually like posting some stuff I do now here so there might be a lot of random ideas I made being post here lol, but if you like some angst type of fanfics to read I got you <3

might make a part 2 of this...

[littlelamy]

𝓼𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓽 𝓼𝓹𝓸𝓽

rafe’s eyes glinted with an unrelenting hunger, his focus razor-sharp as he studied you. he was a man on a mission, determined to unravel every inch of your body, to leave no inch unexplored, no whim unmet.

“don’t hold back on me,” he murmured, his lips ghosting over the sensitive skin of your collarbone. his hands were warm, trailing down your sides, fingers pressing into the soft curve of your hips. he kissed his way along your neck, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin, each breath he exhaled a tantalizing mix of warmth and desire.

his mouth found your pulse, and he sucked gently, teeth grazing just enough to make your breath hitch. his journey continued downward, his lips following a path of fire, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses that made you shiver beneath him. rafe’s tongue circled your nipple before he took it into his mouth, sucking, his teeth nipping lightly before soothing the sting with his tongue.

your back arched into him, and he smirked against your skin, loving the way you responded to him. but he wasn’t satisfied yet. his mouth moved lower, exploring your stomach, tracing circles with his tongue around your navel. his hands never ceased their exploration, skimming down your thighs, parting them as his kisses followed, down, down, down.

he nestled between your legs, his fingers pressing into the soft flesh of your thighs, spreading them wider. “i’m going to find it,” he promised, voice thick with intent. “i’ll kiss every inch of you until i do.”

his mouth pressed to the inside of your thigh, his tongue darting out to taste you, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your core. he kissed along the sensitive skin, closer and closer to where you ached for him most. rafe's breath ghosted over your wetness before his tongue darted out, a tentative lick that made you shudder.

“oh, you like that,” he whispered, his voice like molten honey, his lips curving into a wicked smile. he licked again, more firmly this time, his tongue exploring every fold, every crevice. he was relentless, his hands holding your hips steady as his mouth worked, determined to find that elusive sweet spot that would make you cry out his name.

his tongue flicked over your clit, and you gasped, your hands flying to tangle in his hair. rafe moaned into you, loving the way you responded, the way you trembled under his touch. he sucked on your clit, his tongue swirling around the sensitive nub, and you could feel the heat pooling in your belly, the tension building, spiraling higher and higher.

“come on, baby,” he coaxed between licks, his voice low and rough. “let me hear you. let me know i’m doing it right.”

you were helpless against him, your body bowing off the bed, your moans growing louder with each swipe of his tongue. his fingers joined the fray, slipping inside you, curling just so, and the combination of his mouth and hands was enough to send you spiraling over the edge.

“rafe!” you cried out, your body shaking, your vision going white as the orgasm tore through you, leaving you breathless and trembling.

rafe licked his lips, his grin smug as he watched you come apart beneath him. “found it,” he murmured, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

taglist: @namelesslosers @maybanksangel @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog @slavicangelmuah @alivinggirl @heywardsdoll

[ceramini]

loser! jake BUT readers all of a sudden nice to him and jake is confused (and turned on ofc) maybe special occasion or smthn.surprise ne queen !!

⁺𝅄 𓊆 ❀ 𓊇 just so u guys know.. this will be my last jake fic/drabble before I retire him :(( i write for all of the members and I didn’t think people would request or even like my loser!jake stuff this much, so he WILL make a retrurn on my blog, I just want to share my work for other enha members as well <33 pls understand

pair loser!jake x hot!reader ͡ ͘◡ ꫶᳝᳜᳝᳜᳝᳜৯ tags reverse cowgirl, cockwarming ✿ scene jake forgot their third anniversary, again. He’s bracing for punishment, but instead, you’re suddenly super nice to him. Like, really nice. Confused, flustered, and lowkey turned on, Jake starts to wonder: is this mercy… or a horrible horrible setup? ────── library ⊹ ࣪ click to join taglist

like + reblog appreciated <3

Jake wakes up to the smell of bacon.

Which is weird, because he’s the one who usually forgets the pan and sets off the smoke alarm, and you usually sleep in on Sundays like it’s a constitutional right.

He blinks, dazed and warm and puffy-eyed, as your voice floats into the bedroom.

“Jakey,” you call softly. “Wake up baby. I made you breakfast.”

Jake sits up slowly. His hair’s a mess. His eyes are crusty. He’s half-hard under the blanket because of a dream he already forgot, and his first thought is:

Are you possessed?

“Baby?” you peek your head in, grinning.

Jake squints. “Wait. Did I die?”

You giggle. “No, dummy.”

“Did you die?”

“No.”

“Then why are you—” he looks down at the tray you’re carrying, eyes wide, “—bringing me pancakes?”

You sit beside him on the bed and brush a kiss to his cheek. “Because I love you.”

Jake flinches like you slapped him.

“You do?” he says, eyes watery.

You roll your eyes fondly. “Obviously.”

He leans against you, still confused but clinging like a koala.

Jake is an affectionate idiot, he clings without realizing, kisses without thinking, forgets his keys in your purse because “you’re the safe place.” But today, something about you is different.

You’re not just being kind, you’re being intentional.

You kiss him before he leaves the house.

You help him find his shoes even though they’re right where he always leaves them.

You pack his lunch. Write a little note.

And when he comes home after hanging with Sunghoon, there’s candles on the table.

Candles.

Jake stops in the doorway, staring.

“…Are we summoning something?”

You turn, wearing that adorable outfit, the one he kept staring at the day you tried it on in the store, too stunned to speak, until you went “should I not get it?” and he panic-yelled “NO GET IT GET IT.”

You wore it.

For him.

Jake gulps.

“Did I do something right?” he asks. “Or did I do something wrong and this is the part before you kill me?”

You walk over and wrap your arms around his waist, laying your cheek against his chest. “You did everything right.”

Jake stands frozen. His whole body is stiff, except for one very obvious part.

You notice.

Of course you do.

You giggle. “You’re so easy.”

Jake whines. “You’re being so nice to me. It’s turning me on. That feels unethical.”

Dinner is perfect.

You give him his favorite part of the steak.

You laugh at every one of his terrible jokes.

You even rub his knee under the table like you want him.

Jake’s not used to being the pretty one in the relationship. You’re hot. So hot. It makes no sense to anyone that you date a guy who once cried during an animal shelter ad and accidentally set his microwave on fire trying to make instant ramen.

And yet.

You treat him like he’s the prize.

Jake wants to cry.

And then…

You give him a gift.

Wrapped. Bow and all.

Jake tears it open, confused, and finds:

A framed photo of you two, from your beach trip where Jake got sunburned and you made fun of his farmer’s tan.

A pressed flower from the first bouquet he gave you. He thought you threw it out.

A tiny hand-written book titled: “101 Reasons Why I’m Glad You’re Mine”

Jake blinks down at the cover.

“I—I don’t—” he stammers.

And then, finally, his eyes flick to the calendar on the wall.

The date glows like a punch to the gut.

Anniversary. Three years.

Jake forgot.

You didn’t.

“Jake,” you say softly, sitting beside him on the bed. “You okay?”

He looks like you kicked his puppy.

“I’m the worst boyfriend ever.”

“No you’re not.”

“I am. You did all this. And I didn’t even get you, like— like a card. Or a rock I found outside. Or a dumb doodle or a weird TikTok link or, anything.”

You rest your hand on his.

Jake’s bottom lip wobbles. He sniffles.

“It’s okay,” you say gently. “You always forget dates. I kind of expected it.”

That only makes it worse.

“You knew I’d forget?” he says, heartbroken.

You give a small, sad smile. “It’s not about remembering. It’s about trying.”

Jake stares at you.

And then, without a word, he kneels.

He presses kisses to your thigh. Your knee. Your hip.

Your stomach.

“Let me make it up to you,” he murmurs. “Please.”

He worships you.

That’s the only word for it.

Jake moves with reverence. He kisses you like he’s trying to apologize with his mouth, long, wet kisses that leave you gasping.

When you slide his shirt off, he fumbles a little with yours.

“Can I see you?” he whispers. “Please?”

You nod.

Jake groans the second your top’s off. His hands are greedy, trembling, desperate. But still gentle.

He takes his time.

So much time.

“Turn around?” you ask softly, cheeks warm. “I wanna ride you. That way.”

Jake’s brain short-circuits.

“Reverse— um what is it— um?”

“Reverse cowgirl?.”

Jake whines, already tugging his pants off. “I don’t even know if my heart can take that.”

You straddle him, slow and teasing.

And when you sink down, his hands fly to your hips.

Then hesitate.

Then slowly, tentatively, cup your ass.

“Can I?” he whispers, voice wrecked.

You nod.

Jake lets out the dirtiest moan you’ve ever heard.

“Your ass is insane,” he babbles. “I’m—fuck—I’m gonna die. This is my punishment. You’re punishing me.”

He doesn’t even thrust.

He just holds you there, buried inside, cock so deep and warm that it feels like you’re melting together.

“P—please,” he breathes. “You’re so warm— n’so pretty. Like a goddess. Like an avenging angel with the softest—oh my god—you clenched.”

You giggle.

“I’m sorry,” he moans. “I know I forgot. I know I don’t deserve this. But I love you. I love you so much I feel it in my spine.”

You lean back slightly, rocking your hips once.

Jake chokes.

“I’ll never forget again,” he gasps. “Swear to god. I’ll tattoo it. I’ll set calendar alerts. I’ll carve it into my desk.”

You bounce once.

Jake screams.

You’re both laughing by the time he flips you over and kisses you breathless, trying to say everything with his hands and his mouth and his body that he forgot to say with words.

And after, when he’s soft inside you, buried to the hilt, and you’re both tangled and warm and sticky, Jake whispers:

“Next year I’m doing the most. Be ready.”

You hum, nuzzling into his chest. “Can’t wait.”

🪷 ─── @gxwesn @gyarumindd @somuchdard @ssanhwatto (join the taglist guys..)

[elleetlalune]

MR.LOVER ...lhs (drabble)

→Novella: your sweet boyfriend decides to surprise you for your birthday, little did you know that this surprise would soon turn out to be a pretty hot one.

warnings: kinda kinky, overstimulation, pussy drunk hee, cum eating, oral(f rec.),mating press, unprotected sex (LORD HAVE MERCY), dirty talk, dacryphilia, breeding kink, petnames.

A/N: I can't lie i've been so busy with school, i pooped this out of my ass so sorry if it's shit (get it because it came out of my ass)

"Baby.." You whined for the nth time, your boyfriend insisted on keeping your eyes closed while he guided you to your surprise.

He had insisted that you wear the prettiest dress you had, and put on your favourite jewlery, and when he opened the door to his apartment he was just as perfectly dressed as you.

"Soon, princess." He simply chuckled, you had been bumping into all the walls of your apartment yet you still hadn't reached the long-awaited moment he had been so excited for.

"Okay, on the count of three.." He announced finally stopping in what felt like the living room.

"One."

"Two.

"Three."

"Open!"

You opened your eyes, only to be greeted by a beautiful baby blue and white ganache cake, decorated just the way you wanted with all your favorite things, next to it was a little gift bag with a black bow adorning it.

"Hee..This is..perfect." You looked up at him smiling, you heart swelling with love, "I'm glad you like it, you deserve the world, my princess" The little petname always made your cheek heat up faster or your stomach do somersaults but this time it felt..different?

"No I'm serious, thank you. I don't know what I did to deserve you." The words left your mouth so easily, reaching Heeseung's heart instantly the way you wanted.

"You are you, that's what you did."

You both sat down, looking at his gift but his gaze was heavy on you.

You tried ignoring it but it felt almost impossible when it felt like he could see through your skin and bones. He shifted slightly his hand resting on your upper thigh.

"Baby.." his word almost came out as a whimper, making you shiver." Would you let me taste you before we taste the cake?" he said as if your heart didn't just shoot out of it's place.

"W-what are you saying?" You stuttered out trying to look away from him, but his fingers quickly came, holding your chin, forcing you to look at him.

"Answer me." Dry. You swallowed the lump you felt was forming in your throat and nodded.

"With words." He spoke again, his gaze fixated on your lips.

"I want you to taste me." Blush crept up on your cheeks from embarassement, good for you, your boyfriend couldn't care less and as if that had activated something in him, the once sweet look on his face shifted completly to the look of pure and raw desire.

He didn't wait to be told twice, he carried you to the bedroom, a surprised yelp leaving your mouth as he dropped you on the bed.

His hands worked in perfect harmony to tear the dress off of your body, a low groan escaping his lips once he realized you weren't wearing any bra under it, considering the dress had an built-in one.

"Fuck.." the curse only made you more aroused and your panties more wet.

Sloppy kisses were planted all over your body, his teeth grazing you collarbone and neck, then soothing it with his tongue.

His hand were busy on your plump breasts, purposefully leaving your needy pussy out.

"Baby.."You squirmed as his index finger brushed against your puffy clit, "Needy much?" Heeseung teased, his trademark smirk never leaving his face.

You clenched around nothing, hoping for some kind of relief yet there was none. "Please, I need you." You were practically begging him to fuck you, but he didn't comply just teasing your entrance with his long slender fingers.

"Such a pretty pussy..Can't believe it's all mine." He groaned, you could tell he was torturing himself too for the sake of making you suffer.

"Heeseung.."You cried out, it felt so maddening to have his finger so close to your throbbing core but never in it, tears started going down your face.

He looked up, only to see you crying of frustration. His behavior did a full 360, as If he couldn't hold it in, he dipped his head between your legs lapping at your drenched folds.

"Shit!" a loud moan escaped from you at his unexpected attitude, you were grinding your pussy in his face as his tongue plunged in and out of your pink hole.

"Mmm..tastes so fucking sweet." His movement were never slowing down, your cries only intensifying, and only turning him on even more.

His perfect button nose hit your clit repetedly by each lick, making you see stars everytime, it felt like a sin but a dream at the same time.

"Fuck Hee..I'm..I'm close." You whimpered out, not botherind to hold your moans in anymore. His tongue was licking every single drop that was coming out of you, like he had been starving before this.

Just as you were about to cum, he stopped.

You were back to clenching around nothing, whining wanting him back in your sweet pussy.

"Be patient, princess, want you to cum on my cock." He stroke your cheek before unbuckling his pants and letting them fall to the ground along his boxers, his cock springing free and slapping against his abdomen.

He slowly stroked himself, small groans and moans leaving his mouth as he watched your pussy clench and drip.

"Put it in." you mewled spreading your legs wider, as he rubbed his red tip against your entrance."Gonna claim you, you're all mine.."He moaned before he thrusted completly in you, filling you to the rim, his tip kissing your cervix with each thrust.

"Heeseung!" You cried out as he pressed your thighs against your chest, slamming deep in you every single time.

"My baby..All fucking mine to fuck.." He thrusts, this time faster and stronger, indicating he was getting closer. "This pussy was made for me.."

"I-I'm..please..no.." No correct sentence would come out from the intense pleasure that made your eyes roll to the back of your head.

"Do it, cum on my cock..wanna feel you" He messily kissed you swallowing your moans and cries as you fell apart on him drenching him in the process.

His head fell backwards every time, sweat covered both of your bodies, his bangs clinging to his forehead.

"I'm gonna.." He panted breathily, "I'm cumming inside, I'll make you mine.." His thrusts grew in speed as his hips slapped against yours, one last sultry moan before his thick white ropes of cum painted your walls.

He pulled out, putting back anything that spilled, leaning over next to you on the bed, his bigger hands wrapping protectively around your naked waist.

"I love you, yn" He said, nuzzling his face in your neck.

"I love you too."

[lilhughesy]

Yours Truly | Luke Hughes x Fem!Reader

warnings! childhood friends to lovers trope, slowest of slow burns, descriptions of injury, slight angst with reader and Luke both avoiding their feelings lol, mentions of partying, drinking, and hint of drug use and vapes. word count: 27.3k! (oops!!)

summary: You and Luke were meant to be live long friends with being raised together since you were both in diapers. You experience every part of life with him, whether it be hockey or school. When the two of you enter your late teen years, you start to realize that you no longer saw each other as just friends but are too scared to address it.

a/n: oh my goodness, here she is!! I spent a while working on this one and I'm so sorry for getting away with the word count. I hope you enjoy it!

There were two things that Luke Hughes knew very well in life: hockey, with being given a mini stick practically at birth by his brothers and well, you.

Luke knew Quinn and Jack inside and out. As his older brothers, they were like an extension of him. But at the same time, he knew you at the same level as his brothers. You were also an extension of him and he knew you like the back of his hand.

You had been in Luke's life since basically the very beginning. He couldn't remember a point in his life where you weren't there or more accurately, when he didn't know who you were. Given the close nature of both of your parents, they were beyond thrilled when discovering that the third Hughes and you were going to be born just a week apart.

Ellen and your mother, Mandy, were glued to the hip the second Luke and you were born. You entering the world just six days after he did, which he never seemed to let go of the fact that he was older than you.

It worked out beautifully for the Mothers, as you and Luke had grown to call them. If Ellen and Mandy were not in the same room with both baby you and baby Luke, then it was likely that they were doing "baby-share"; which was essentially taking shifts to watch over the babies.

You and Luke were raised together. You two would be given your bottles at the same times, be put down for your naps at the same time and even sharing a bed together. You and Luke shared toys, to the point where even the Mothers couldn't remember who bought what.

The Mothers loved to coordinate your outfits, essentially treating the two of you like twins that they had together. It was fun for them to dress you and Luke in the same blue onesies or have the world's smallest bow in your hair be the same colour to his little t-shirt. It was absolutely adorable.

Luckily, the two of you were easygoing babies. Neither of you cried much nor made a fuss, more typically being found babbling or playing with your matching Jellycats. Luke having a lamb while you had a bear stuffed animal. Mandy had told her husband, Steven, as well as Ellen and Jim, that it was likely due to you and Luke being able to keep each other company. That the two of you are simply happy when the other is around.

The transition from infants to toddlers was smooth(ish). You and Luke were still the same happy children, constantly giggling with each other and in your own world of Luke and Y/N. You were quick to start forming words and short sentences while Luke was standing and walking.

In the Hughes household, it was louder with a four-year-old Jack yelling at the top of his lungs while chasing after Quinn. Their footsteps cladding against the hardwood while Luke's little head of blonde curls waddled around the legs of the Mothers, and you were tugging at Jim's pant leg and asking for a snack.

"Quinn! Give it back!" Jack's high pitched voice screamed, "Mommy said it's my turn with the red mini stick!"

"Come and get it then!" Quinn taunted his brother, his hand gripping onto the plastic hockey stick.

Jack stomped his foot and huffed, "Mommy!" He cried out at the top of his lungs, which caused Ellen to groan in reaction,

"What is it, Jack?" She called out to her middle son, who was grumbling as he entered the kitchen.

He climbed onto the taller seats by the kitchen counter next to Jim and Steven, who were in midst of talking about hockey.

"Quinny took my mini stick and he's be big stupid head," Jack said to his mom, slouching further into his chair, "Mommy, tell him to go time out, s’not fair."

Ellen opened her mouth to scold Jack for his rude language when a small voice approached her, "Mama!"

Little Luke hugged onto her leg, making her heart melt. She scooped up the youngest Hughes in her arms and Luke was quick to cuddle into his mom. Ellen glanced over at her husband, silently nudging him to handle Jack's situation. However, Jim seemed to be distracted at whatever words you were saying to him and your dad.

"How about, you and Quinny play mini sticks against me and your dad?" Steven suggested to the boy, who's eyes lit up immediately.

"Really?" Jack exclaimed, practically bouncing in his seat, "Dad, we're going to win so hard versus you and Stevey!"

Mandy gave the dads a thankful smile before taking little you out of Jim's arms, "You boys have fun now!"

"Do you wanna play, Mandy?" Jack questioned, hopping out of his seat and coming to stand next to Mandy. She laughed and ruffled the boy’s hair,

“Oh, honey. I think it’ll be better if you play with your dad and Steve.”

Jack shrugged, not too bothered nor didn’t seem to dwell too much, he was far more interested in toddler in Mandy’s arm. Your small hand reaching out towards him, which Jack knew meant that you wanted to grab his hand.

Your small hand wrapped around his finger, "Jacky!"

"I wish you could play mini sticks too, Bear... But you're too little," He explained to you, using the nickname that you were given from having a teddy bear that you loved dearly, "One day though! When you and Lukey are bigger, then you can play! I promise!"

With that Jack ran towards Quinn's room to get him to play mini sticks against the Dads. Leaving Ellen and Mandy in the kitchen with their toddlers in their arms.

"Is Lukey!" You pointed towards him while looking at your mom, "Lukey!"

"Bear!" He giggled, his small hand waving at you and you were more than happy to wave back at your friend.

₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

Eventually, you and Luke got a strong hang of walking with your little legs, although trips and falls occurred pretty often. The second you and Luke were running, best believe that Steven and Jim were quick to put the two of you in skates and onto the ice. Luke was a natural skater, while your dad held your hand and helped you go from waddling on the ice to gliding around.

“Daddy, look!” Luke exclaimed as he followed his brothers around the outdoor rink, “I doin’ it!”

“Look at you, Lukey!” Jim laughed, watching his boys skate around the rink. Quinn and Jack were much more fluid with their movements but Luke was getting the hang of it for a two and a half year old.

Steven and Jim were on either side of you, holding onto your pink mittens as they helped you move around. You were capable of shuffling your feet while holding their hands, but the second they let go, you were on your bum on the ice.

“How’s Bear doing?” Quinn asked as he skated over to you, “You’re doing so good!”

You beamed at the eldest Hughes brother, “I no skate Daddy lets me go.”

Quinn chuckled, “Come on, I’ll help you!”

He took both of your hands from your dad and his before he started to pull you along the ice. Quinn skated backwards, constantly checking over his shoulder to make sure he wasn’t going to run into Jack, Luke, or a snow bank. Giggles left your mouth as you glided across the ice with Quinn.

“Okay, I’m gonna let go of one hand now…” He told you, carefully releasing your left hand, “You can do this, Bear!”

Your eyes widened for a moment before Quinn started to slowly skate, and you stayed on your feet as they waddled to match his movement. He grinned at you while Jack whooped in celebration for you from behind, what you didn’t realize is that Quinn had let go of both of your hands and you were officially skating all my yourself.

“Go Bear!” Jack cheered before skating towards you and hugging you, “You did it!”

Luke joined soon after, his little skates only being able to carry him so fast before his arms embraced you, “We dids it!”

“Yay!” You giggled, hugging your best friend tightly.

₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

The Mothers wanted nothing more than to dress you up in cute pink ruffled dresses with flowers, but there was never a point to when they knew you would be in the backyard chasing Quinn around with Luke. Quinn did his best for his young age to make sure that you and Luke were safe. Reminding you two constantly to watch out for the corner of the table or for ledges, or to slow down. There was constant laughter when the four of you kids were together, along with earfuls of arguing.

The moment Jack and Quinn deemed you and Luke to be big enough, they put hockey sticks into your hands. Luke, by default, was able to maneuver the stick around the foam puck very quickly. You, on the other hand, had a bit more difficulty. Jack was jumping foot to foot, while Luke got the hang of the game while Quinn kneeled near you. He taught you how to play, the same way he taught Jack except now that he was older, he was better at explaining things.

Soon, when the four of you weren't in the basement playing knee hockey, you were outside playing road hockey. During the summer, at the Hughes lake house, the four of you would spend your rainy days playing hockey in the living room. If it wasn't one of the warmer months, then you would be playing hockey on the ice with the Hughes brothers.

A laugh escaped your lips as you chased after the puck with Jack right behind you, Quinn was skating backwards while facing you as he protected the net.

“Me! Me!” Luke shouted with the smack of his stick against the ice echoing slightly. You looked up at him, and you pushed the puck with the blade of your stick towards him before falling forward while doing so.

“Oof!” You huffed, fully on your stomach. Although you wore one of Quinn’s smaller jerseys over your coat, you could still feel the coolness of the ice.

Luke shot the puck towards the net, the sharp ping! being heard before he started cheering, “Did you see that?!” He exclaimed, waving his arms around as he looked at his oldest brother.

“Good job, Lukey!” He grinned, hugging Luke’s smaller body.

“Bear!” Luke shouted, turning away from Quinn to look for your reaction — only to see you slowly getting up from your fall and Jack standing next to you, attempting to help you. He immediately skated over, “Are yous okay?” Luke asked you, before also tripping over his own skate and falling down next to you.

You had also fallen back as he collapsed, which only made you start laughing. Jack was standing with his neck extended backwards as he howled out at the scene,

“That’s a bad celly, Lukey! You can’t fall over after you score!” Jack explained to him between laughs.

Quinn skated over to help you get back to your feet while Luke was successful on getting back up by himself. Quinn’s bigger arms pulled the three of you in an embrace, “Teammates hug after one of them scores, like this.”

“He’s right,” Jack nodded, patting on Luke’s back, “But Lukey and Bear aren’t our teammates.” He told Quinn, his eyebrows furrowed as he pulled away ever so slightly.

Quinn lowly shook his head at his five year old brother, “Lukey is our brother and Bear is like our baby sister, Jack. We’re always gonna be a team, the four of us are always a team. No matter what.”

Jack seemed to accept and understand that answer, he nodded before hugging his brothers and you a little tighter, “We’re the best team!”

That was what it was like growing up with them. You would be constantly dragged into playing some variation of hockey when the sun was still out, then rushing into either your or their home for dinner. Then the four of you curled up on the couch to watch a movie or to play boardgames.

When school started for both you and Luke, you were ecstatic about meeting new friends. In fact, you told Luke, Quinn, and Jack all about how excited you were as the four of you walked to school. Ellen and Mandy were sure to take a photo of the four of you on the sidewalk, each with a comically large backpack on your backs.

Luke was a bit more nervous about it, but Ellen reminded him multiple times that you and him were in the same class. If he was scared then at least he had you. But in classic Hughes nature, Luke's friendly and happy-go-lucky personality and your bubbly one had the two of you making so many friends on your first day. Though, you and Luke would stay stuck to each other's sides the entire time.

"You can't be friends with her!" A boy told Luke after he opted to sit next to you on the classroom carpet, "She's a girl!"

Luke only shrugged, "So what? She's my best friend!'

You grinned at the blonde boy, "You’re my best friend too!"

₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

After school resulted in Ellen taking you to the boys' hockey practices since both of your parents were at work. You and Ellen would sit together in the stands with a blanket draped across your laps as you watched the boys skate. Ellen always bought you a hot chocolate to sip on while you told her about your day at school or about wanting to start reading chapter books.

This routine stayed the same as you grew up. During middle school, you and Ellen would sit and watch the boys practice while sipping on your hot chocolate to keep you warm from the cold air of the arena. Though your conversations slowly changed into new books you wanted to read, news clothes you wanted to buy, or the girls who keep telling Luke that Jack is hot. Which always caused you and Ellen to burst into a fit of giggles.

"I was so confused," You laughed out as you held the warm cup closer to your chest, "Jessica and Megan kept telling me and Luke how hot Jack is and how they wanted to marry him! How weird is that? Plus, what are we supposed to do?"

Ellen chuckled, patting her hand on your thigh in a loving manner, "I suppose you are getting closer to that age where people want to start dating. Jack got his first girlfriend when he was in the seventh grade, remember her?"

You lowly shook your head in disbelief, "Yeah, I kinda remember... I forgot her name but I don't remember them staying together very long."

"Oh, it was definitely a middle school relationship," Ellen said, taking a sip of her hot drink, "I think they dated for 3 days before Jack told her that he wasn't ready for something serious."

Luke would always hear the sound of your laughter, glancing to the stands to see you and his mom snuggled under the 'arena' blanket. It would always bring a small smile to his face, knowing that you were enjoying your time at the arena despite knowing how boring it could be for you.

When practice ended, you and Ellen waited for Luke in the lobby area. You had your hands buried in the front pocket of your hoodie, slightly yawning as you watched Luke's different teammates slowly filter out of the change rooms. You saw his blonde curls emerge from the hallway, his shoulders slumped with exhaustion as he dragged his hockey bag behind him.

"You looked great on the ice tonight, honey," Ellen told her youngest as he gave them a small smile, "Ready to head home?"

"Hi, Mom. Hi, Bear," He sighed, adjusting his grip on his bag, "I'm starving."

Ellen laughed in response to her son before heading towards the automatic glass doors of the arena building. You and Luke followed her towards the car. With Luke placing the hat he initially wore to practice, onto your head.

"Ew Luke," You grimace, pulling the hat off your head, "You sweat in this!"

"It's dry," He said to you with a shrug, watching your hands fumble with his hat, "What did you and Mom talk about during my practice?"

You rolled your eyes at him, "Nothing really, just about how Jessica and Megan are in love with Jack."

"Yeah, no. That's weird." Luke scoffed, while putting his hockey bag into the trunk of the car, "If they spent a day with him, they'll realize how weird Jack is."

You nodded, sliding into the back seat of Ellen's car, "Or they would make bigger heart eyes at him."

"Gross."

Luke sat in the seat next to you in the car, just like always so that you two could talk easily without him needing to crane his neck to see your reactions. Ellen glanced briefly at the rearview mirror to see how you and Luke smiled and laughed with each other, both of you having the same sparkle in your eyes since you were just kids.

The Mothers along with their husbands had a secret bet on you and Luke, with the Mothers rooting for you two to one day end up together like some sort of cheesy childhood friends to lovers romance movie. Jim put his bets on you and Jack, considering how much the two of you bonded as kids and how he never failed to brighten your mood. Your own dad though, he had his bet on you ending up with someone completely different.

Luke led you into his house after Ellen parked in the garage, she commented how Mandy was already inside likely with dinner for Luke.

You walked into the kitchen to see Jack and Quinn at the dining table, quietly conversing over something related to hockey. Ellen was right, as you saw your mom making multiple plates of dinner.

"Hi Mom!" You greeted her, you stood next to her and watched as he placed the cooked chicken on the different plates, "I didn't think you would be here."

She chuckled, kissing your temple, "I got off of work early sweetheart and decided to help out Ellen by cooking"

"Hey Mandy," Luke said casually, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge, "Smells good."

Mandy smiled at the youngest Hughes brother, "You can grab a plate honey, I'm sure you're starving from hockey and because you've been growing so much!"

He was. He seemed to be getting taller and taller every time you saw him, even though it was every day. You had always been similar heights with your best friend, but it was now quickly changing. You saw it with Quinn and Jack, how they both seemed to grow tall overnight.

You and Luke had both grabbed plates for yourselves and for Jack and Quinn as you joined them at the table. It was like any other evening where the four of you would catch up from your day’s activities — whether it be about your boring history lesson, drama in amongst classmates, or typically hockey.

It was like routine now, if not your life. Spending time with the Hughes family. The only times you weren’t with them were on the weekend where they would go out of town for a hockey tournament. If you were lucky, you got to watch their tournaments when they played at home. In which those games were always fun to attend.

When you were younger, you always tagged along to their weekend games. It didn’t matter which Hughes brother was playing, because either way you would still sit in the stands and be their loudest cheerleader. Your parents would attend a game here and there, but often opted out to run their weekend errands instead. You still tried to attend as many games as possible — however with Jack, Quinn, and Luke getting progressively more competitive and involved in the hockey world, it was hard to keep up with the multiple games each week.

“We should take advantage of the long weekend,” Jack told the three of you, as he took another bite of his food, “We should go to the ODR and play hockey like how we used to.”

Luke’s eyes lit up at the proposal, “Heck yeah! It’s been forever since we played with Bear.”

“That sounds fun,” You slowly nodded, but inside, you were unsure considering the high intensity that they played. Quinn seemed to have noticed your hesitance by simply reading your body language, “Or we could chill and keep watching friends.”

“Dude, that’s so boring,” Luke whined, “Plus don’t you want extra practice? You’re tryna get into the big leagues aren’t you?”

Quinn scoffed at his youngest brother, “I’m already committed to UMich, you know that.”

“What if we just do both?” You suggested, still poking at your food, “Just don’t be surprised when you guys realize I’m better than you at hockey.”

“Oh yeah?” Jack chuckled, giving you a smirk, “Bet you’ve been getting extra practice this entire time.”

“Mhm, absolutely and I have Jim Hughes as my personal coach,” You grinned, “He loves me more than any of you.”

Quinn laughed at your comments, “Yeah, we’re well aware that you’re the adults’ favourite.”

“No way, Mandy loves me.” Luke interjected with an insulted expression for extra dramatics, “She complimented my height today.”

You only shook your head in disagreement, “She said you’re a growing boy, Lukey. Two different things.”

“You’re just jealous that your mom loves me.” He stated, placing his hands on his hips.

The teasing and banter went on between you and the Hughes brother on a regular basis. Quinn and Jack really did treat you like the little sister they always wanted. The two were always very supportive of you, always put effort into talking with you despite their hectic schedules, and they were protective of you — just like any other older brothers. You and Quinn were close, considering how you would often go to him for advice or input on different issues. Especially on things that Luke just didn’t seem to care too much for, not yet at least. You would go to Jack when you need encouragement, he was the best person when it came to hyping you up.

You held your friendships with Quinn and Jack very close to your heart, however they would never takeover Luke’s spot. He was your ride-or-die, twin flame, and your soulmate. You were convinced of it. You two knew exactly what the other was thinking, only requiring to take a millisecond of a glance at one another to understand. You and Luke could basically communicate telepathically, like when you didn’t like your ice cream flavour and he offered to switch with you… and you didn’t even say a thing.

You walked with Quinn to the ODR, following Jack and Luke as they were both very energized and eager to play with the four of you. “like the old times!” Jack said, as if you four didn’t play together a few weeks ago. Quinn held the two shovels and made Luke carry the different hockey sticks while Jack lugged the bag of skates and pucks. All you were responsible for was holding the bag of hockey gloves.

The four of you plopped down on the cold wooden benches, thankful that they were covered in snow so at least your pants can stay relatively dry. Jack handed out the skates and you four quickly got laced up, however you taking slightly longer in comparison to the brothers who could tie their skates in their sleep.

Quinn and Jack were first to get onto the ice, each with a shovel to clean up some of the snow. You and Luke were soon to join them, both of you with sticks in hand. Once the ice was cleared of snow, each of you skated around for a few minutes.

You enjoyed how the ice felt as you glided around, you loved hearing the sounds of the skate against the ice. The crisp sound of the blade of your stick and the sounds of pucks moving around with it. The soft thuds of each time the blade contacted the puck and the skates carving thin lines against the ice — it was soothing.

“What are the teams?” Jack asked, looking away from the net where he was aiming his pucks at while Quinn was on net duty.

“I call dibs on Bear!” Luke hollered as he maneuvered the puck around on the ice, before passing it to you. You grinned at you received the puck, stick handling a bit before passing it back to him.

Quinn rolled his eyes at Luke’s answer, “You always do.”

Luke shrugged, not bothering to look over at Quinn, “Don’t act surprised. She’s my best friend.”

“Okay, so Jack and Quinn versus me and Lukey,” You said, skating up to Jack with speed before stopping to snow spray him.

Jack looked at you with his jaw dropped and a dramatic expression of hurt on his face, “How dare you. Now my ankles are gonna be wet.”

You raised your hands in surrender, “Not my issue.”

“You got pretty good at that, Bear,” Luke told you as he skated by as he moved away the pucks that wouldn’t be used in your game.

You smiled, “Thanks, I learned from the best.”

“I didn’t teach you that.” Jack scoffed, passing the pucks he received from Quinn to Luke.

You used your stick to lightly cross check him, barely causing him to move, “Not you, dumbass. Mrs. Ellen Hughes taught me.”

“Alright, alright,” Quinn spoke up, motioning for you, Jack and Luke to come closer, “It’s a two v. two, first to five goals wins, best out of three.”

“Prepared to get absolutely smoked!” Jack exclaimed, pointing the end of his stick to you and Luke.

“Yeah right,” Luke replied, shaking his head, “You’re about to get your ass beat!”

Quinn and Luke played defence and goalie while you and Jack mainly played offence. With Jack being significantly more skilled and better than you, but the boys never played to their full effort on days like this. Luke had intercepted a pass between Quinn to Jack, he immediately looking for you.

You tapped your stick against the ice before receiving the puck. You moved your legs to skate past Jack, doing a quick spin move that you learned from watching Quinn play, which made Jack fall over. A laugh escaped your lips as you quickly glanced backwards to see Jack getting up. Quinn was in front of you, wavering his stick in attempts to steal the puck from you before you shot the puck in the direction of the net.

ping!

“That’s in!” Luke yelled out, immediately making his way to pull you into a hug, “Good shit!”

You grinned, your arms wrapping around him as you laughed. Jack and Quinn had also made their way to hug you,

“I can’t believe you broke my ankles!” Jack exclaimed, his eyes widened, “Where did you learn how to do that?”

You shrugged, “I watched Quinn play enough times.”

Quinn beamed, his gloved hand ruffling your hair, “I’m proud. That was impressive.”

“Okay, 1-0 for us!” Luke announced, “We start with the puck now.”

The four of you continued to play, slowly adding a bit more banter and play fighting into the mix. Mainly the boys shoving each other or causing the other to trip. You and Jack were at the corner of the boards, fighting for the puck before you decided to shove him using your shoulder with some force. He moved backwards slightly, giving you the opportunity to take the puck, “Oh it’s so on Bear!” He challenged as you grinned at him.

You skated away with the puck, passing it to Luke, he shot the puck but Quinn blocked it with his stick. Luke retrieved it before giving it back to you. You skated towards the net with Jack right behind you, you didn’t see him poke his stick at an angle in attempts to take the puck. But rather causing you to trip over his hockey stick, you fell forwards as you tried to catch yourself before you crashed into the board.

Pain immediately shot up your left arm as you laid against the ice. Your right hand went to your left shoulder, holding it as heat flooded through the entire area.

“Holy shit!” Luke breathed out, already next to you and kneeling beside your crumbled body, “Are you okay?!”

You let out mix of a strangled sob and a cry of pain as you clutched your shoulder. Tears already streaming down your face from the searing sensation, Luke’s eyes glassed over as Quinn pushed him out of the way,

“You’re okay, Y/N,” Quinn told you, as his eyes scanned over you, “What hurts? Is it your shoulder?”

You nodded as another sob came out, “It hurts so bad, Quinn!”

He let out a shaky breath before sticking his hand out to you, “I know it does, Bear… but I need you to get up, okay? Can you do that?”

You sniffled, “Yeah, I think so.”

“Okay, use my hand if you need.”

You slowly sat up, your hand still holding onto your shoulder. You attempted to get onto your skates with struggles before Luke had his hands on your waist, helping you to your feet, “I got you.” He said in a soft voice.

You gave him a weak smile as you hunched over, cradling your left arm.

Quinn had his phone out, calling Mandy, as Luke guided you off the ice with a gentle hand on your back. Jack stood in his spot, still in shock of what had happened. His eyes were wide and watery, and his heart and stomach felt like the pummelled to the bottom of his gut. His heading replaying the moment you crashed into the boards from him tripping you with his stick.

“Yeah, Luke’s got her now… Okay… Yeah, I can do that… No problem… Okay, see you soon Mandy.” Quinn pocketed his phone, his hand running through his hair before noticing Jack, “I just told Mandy what happened and she’s going to meet us at the emergency room.”

Jack slowly nodded, “I- I just… You know I didn’t mean for that to happen right? I was- She just- I don’t even-”

Quinn frowned, putting an arm around his brother’s shoulder as they skated to the rink door, “Obviously it was an accident, Jack. She knows that. Don’t worry.”

“I feel so bad, Q,” Jack choked out, “I shouldn’t have done that. Did you see her face? She’s never going to forgive me.”

“She will,” Quinn reassured him, giving his bicep a light squeeze, “Bear is going to be fine and she’ll definitely forgive you. She knows you weren’t trying to injure her on purpose.”

Jack hesitated before nodding, “So, we’re going to the hospital?”

“Yeah, Mandy says she wants to know if it’s serious or not,” Quinn said as he popped open the rink door and stepped off the ice.

Luke was kneeling at your feet, taking off your skates and helping you put on your snow boots, “Does it still hurt?”

“Yeah, like a bitch,” You mumbled as he sat in the space next to you to take off his own skates. You rested your head on his shoulder, “I think I broke my shoulder.”

He frowned, moving carefully to make sure you didn’t hurt more while using him as a pillow, “I don’t think you can break a shoulder… You’ll be okay.”

“Yeah, I know… It just hurts a lot.” You sniffled, and occasional tear falling from your eye as you looked up to see Jack and Quinn there.

“I called your mom, she said that she wants you to go to the ER to get it checked out,” Quinn explained to you and he undid his skates, “She’ll meet us there.”

You gave him a small nod, “Okay.”

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to hurt you at all.” Jack apologized, concern was written all over his face with his eyes glassy and his mouth in a frown.

“I know, Jack. It was an accident.” You said to him with a small smile, “Can you buy me ice cream as an apology though?”

He chuckled, “Yeah, I can definitely do that.”

It turned out to be a minor tear in your acromioclavicular ligament, but it didn’t need surgery which you were relieved about. Jack spent the entire time at the hospital apologizing to you profusely. The doctor told you to keep your sling for six to eight weeks and not do anything that required you to use your bad arm. Your mom took you and Luke home while Quinn and Jack went back to their home.

Luke kept you company as much as he could during your recovery. If he wasn’t at hockey, then he was definitely next to you whether it be watching a new episode of Friends together or playing chess. He made sure to carry your books for you at school, always carried your backpack to and from school, and did everything he could to make your life easier.

Kids at school started to assume the two of you were dating yet again, despite you and Luke having to tell them that you were friends just a few months before. But with Luke being next to you at all times and helping you while you were in your sling, it was hard to imagine that you two were just friends.

And Luke wouldn’t admit it to anyone, not a single person, but part of him didn’t mind that your classmates assumed that you were dating. He knew he couldn’t let a soul know that he thought of this, because it felt wrong. You were you, you were Bear, the same Bear he grew up with his entire life. But for once in his life, he saw you slightly differently than just Bear. He saw a glimpse of what everyone else saw when they looked at you. How much he loved to see you smile or how much he wanted to hear you laugh. He didn’t know what changed, but something did.

And for once, Luke finally started to understand what Jack and Quinn meant to all the times Luke had caught them talking about girls together. How Jack wanted to catch the attention of this girl he met in his math class, or how Quinn was planning on asking a girl to the movies. He understood why Jack liked going to the store to buy a girl a bag of candy or a box of chocolate, it felt nice to do something for you. Even if it was as simple as helping you pack up your bag.

Luke didn’t know what his new feelings meant, the weight that they would hold, or what the future could hold. All he knew that he didn’t see you the same way that he used to, and that you absolutely could not know about how he felt. Not after being each other’s best friend since literal birth.

₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

Senior year of high school was the year everyone dreamed about. You get to have homecoming, winter formal, spring fling, senior prom, and graduation. You finally get to see where life may take you, which college you will attend and the program that will take you to your future career. It’s so exciting.

But somewhat sad since Luke didn’t go to your high school anymore. Once he joined USNTDP, he began doing his schooling online starting your junior year. You had to learn how to get used to not seeing him in the hallways every day and not having someone to talk to on your drive to and from school. You’d always imagine that you and Luke would graduate together, but at least you could both attend each other’s graduation. Even if his is virtual.

Regardless, you and Luke were the same as always, despite having a hiccup in your friendship at the start of sophomore year with clashing friend groups. Turns out, it was a lot easier if you both acted like yourselves rather than trying to fit in with groups you didn’t exactly belong to. That was the only time where you and Luke went nearly four months without speaking, but you had sworn to never do that again once rekindled your friendship.

Obviously you and Luke had small arguments on conflicting views on certain situations, you both being too stubborn to admit you were wrong. But again, you both were able to move past those pretty quickly once the Mothers explained to you both how important it is to communicate, instead of shutting down.

Luke had grown up significantly during the course of high school, he’d grown taller… a lot taller, his hair had become darker naturally and lost its blonde he had as a child, and he became more comfortable with himself. He’d always been a bit more awkward growing up, often relying on you to break any kind of tension in conversation with others. But the more Luke got older, the more confident he became. Not in the cocky sense but rather a quiet confidence. You could tell in the way he carried himself, how he talked to others, and how he stopped searching for validation from people.

Despite you two not attending the same school anymore, you often found yourself driving to his house after classes to hang out with him if he was available. With both Quinn and Jack playing in the NHL, the Hughes household was rather vacant. Luke was now constantly busy with hockey, whether it be practices, team lifts, training, games, or tournaments, his schedule was packed. However, he always managed to make time for you. Granted that time was limited so it was only for an hour or two, but regardless you always appreciated it.

“Hey!” You called out, your backpack slung over your shoulder.

“In my room!” You heard him shout back. You made sure to poke your head in the living room to see if Jim or Ellen were home by any chance.

Seeing that it was only Luke who was home, you quickly made your way to his room. You pushed open his door to see him laying in bed with a cap on his head and his laptop propped up on his chest,

“Hey, how was school?” He asked you as he adjusted his position to make more room on the bed. You slid down into the empty space next to him, resting your head on his bicep,

You shrugged, “Boring as usual, everyone is talking about prom and accepting their college offers.”

“Sounds exciting,” Luke chuckled, pressing the key on his MacBook to lower the volume of his lesson, “Have you accepted any college yet?”

“No, I can’t decide between two schools.” You replied, even though you made your decision a few weeks ago when the school you’d been waiting for had offered you admission.

Luke clicked his tongue, resting his cheek against your head, “You’ll figure it out, don’t stress.”

It became normal for the two of you to cuddle like this. You and Luke loved to snuggle with each other as little kids but during the ages of eight to about fifteen, you both deemed it be weird. But after your boyfriend broke up with you at the end of sophomore year, Luke had stayed over that night to watch Disney movies with you and eat ice cream. With Luke trying to comfort you as you cried that night and your hand holding onto his shirt, he pulled you closer to his chest and you ended up cuddling for the rest of the night.

You told yourself it was strictly platonic, because there is no way that you and Luke could catch feelings for each other. You literally knew each other since you were in diapers. It’d be really weird… right?

Since your sophomore boyfriend broke up with you, you had your fair share of flings and talking-stages. Yet none of these guys seemed to last — they didn’t meet your standards. There was always something off about them and you couldn’t quite figure it out. You didn’t let it bother you too much because you had Luke, who was always there for you. Even if it meant he had to go to your school dances.

You currently stood in front of your mirror, smoothing out the front of your prom dress. A small smile adorned your face as you were finally about to experience your senior prom, a benchmark that you’ve been dreaming of since freshman year. The hundreds of photos you have saved on your Pinterest board of different dresses, hairstyles, nails, and make up looks — all led to this moment.

“Hi sweetheart,” Your mom said as she poked her head in, “Luke’s downstairs, but take your time- Oh, honey, you look absolutely gorgeous!”

Mandy walked up behind you, smiling at you in the mirror as she adjusted your necklace, “You look beautiful.”

“Thanks Mom,” You replied while playing with the ends of your hair, “I think I’m ready to head down.”

She nodded, “Ellen and I will need to take so many photos of you two!”

You rolled your eyes in amusement before following her towards the stairs, “She’s ready!”

There were shuffling of feet as you carefully walked down the stairs of your house, cautious not to trip on a step. You made it to the bottom when you looked up from the floor to see Luke standing in front of you in his navy suit with a tie that matched with your dress.

His hair looked perfect, with its curls fluffy and soft. His suit fitted him perfectly, extenuating his broad shoulders and strong arms. Luke’s cheeks were dusted pink, the tips of his ears were flushed as he looked at you.

”You look- uh, good. You look good.” Luke stammered, trying to stay his confident self while complimenting you.

“Just good?” You teased, taking in his flustered state as he cleared his voice. He brushed his hand against your arm,

“You look stunning, Bear,” He told you, this time with better composure and less stutters.

It was your turn to blush as you didn’t expect his words to cause such a reaction in your chest. You felt your heart racing and butterflies fluttering in your stomach, “Really?”

He nodded, “Truly.”

You smiled at him, the edges of your lips reaching your eyes as Luke presented to you your corsage, “This is for you, by the way.”

“It’s so pretty,” You said, your voice light as he adjusted the flower piece on your wrist, “Did Ellen choose this?”

Luke rolled his eyes, “Is it that obvious?”

You laughed, “I kept yours in the fridge, hold on.”

Luke watched as you quickly made your way to the kitchen, his eyes tearing away from the direction you left in once you turned the corner. He looked to see Mandy and Ellen both having their hand over their hearts,

“This is so sweet.” Ellen said to Mandy, who was patting away the tears at the corner of her eyes,

“So adorable,” Mandy agreed, “Our babies are so grown up.”

You returned, holding a similar flower piece in your hands, “Your boutonnière.”

Luke let out a shaky breath as you focused on attaching it to his chest. He was hyper aware of the close proximity, and concerned that you could hear how fast his heart was beating.

“Gorgeous! Now pictures, Mom needs her pictures!” Mandy ushered, using her hands to move you around to stand next to Luke, “Smile!”

Ellen and Mandy must have taken over a thousand photos, constantly changing your positions or changing the angle for better lighting — even eventually telling you two to go outside so Mandy’s garden could also be in the background. Your cheeks started to hurt from wearing the constant smile as you posed next to Luke. You prayed that your face wasn’t noticeably red from Luke having an arm around your waist, or the placement on his large hands in some of the pictures. But it was worth it because Mandy and Ellen took amazing photos that you knew you would be showing your future children one day.

And honestly, you thought that taking photos with Luke and your families was much better than the actual prom itself. Just you and Luke.

₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

Ellen, Jim, Quinn, Jack, and Luke all sat excitedly in your kitchen, patiently waiting alongside your parents, all of them wearing semi formal clothes. They waited to see which college you decided on right before heading to your high school graduation. You told them to stay in the kitchen as you planned on walking out with your future university’s displayed on the top of your graduation cap.

“I think she’s going to UNC,” Steven told Jim, his fingers drumming against the marble counter, “Maybe Florida.”

Jim hummed, “Lukey, you have any idea where she’s going?”

Luke only shrugged while fiddling with the sleeve of his light blue dress shirt, “I have no idea. She didn’t tell me where she was applying.”

“Any chance she’ll go to UMich with Luke?” Ellen asked to Mandy, who was ironing your grad gown.

“UMich is the best school,” Jack nodded to his mom,

Quinn lightly hit his arm, “Shut up, you never even went to college.”

“Hey, I’m just saying!” Jack laughed, “I’m kidding, wherever she wants to go will be great.”

Mandy smiled, picturing her and Ellen’s babies going from diapers all the way to college together, “It would definitely make our lives easier, but I don’t think she wants to stay in Michigan.”

Ellen sighed, her finger tracing the rim of her glass, “Understandable. As long as our girl is happy!”

“Ready?” You called out, feeling absolutely giddy as you adjusted your white graduation dress and fiddled with the edges of your graduation cap. You heard series of yeses before you took a deep breath. You turned the corner and stepped foot into the kitchen, holding out the cap with your university logo bedazzled on top, when loud cheers broke out.

Luke was first to tackle you into a hug, his arms squeezing around you while he lifted you off your feet, “No fucking way!”

You laughed as you put your arms around him, “Are you surprised?”

“Hell yeah I am!” Luke grinned as he lowered you to your feet. His eyes looking at your chosen university logo again, Luke laughing in disbelief as he took hold of your cap and admired the large M bedazzled in maize and navy gemstones filling the rest of the empty space.

“This is so exciting!” Ellen gushed as she pushed her youngest son out of the way, “Oh my babies are going to college together!”

“Good for you, Bear!” Quinn congratulated you with a big hug with Luke and Jack joining in, “Michigan is lucky to have you.”

“Oh honey, I am so proud of you!” Mandy said with a hand on her jaw, “And you won’t be too far from home! You can visit whenever you’d like! This is so fantastic!”

Your dad hugged you tightly, “My babygirl is all grown up! It’s time to head out so you can graduate!”

The crowd was loud when it was your turn to walk the stage. You could hear Jack, Quinn, and Luke hollering and cheering when your name was announced. You smiled and gave a small wave before shaking hands with your principal and accepting your high school diploma. Your parents and the entire Hughes family were on their feet as they clapped loudly as you walked off the stage.

You met them outside once the ceremony ended, hugging your parents both right when you saw them. Mandy pressing multiple kisses to your head and cheeks as she gushed how proud she was of you.

“Congrats Bear!” Jack exclaimed, giving you a single arm hugged, “Super glad you have two working shoulders when you crossed that stage!”

You rolled your eyes playfully at the mention of your previous injury, “Oh shut up.”

“I’m so proud of you!” Luke said to you as you approached him and he greeted you with open arms. You embraced him, your cheek against his chest,

“Thank you Lukey”

Ellen fished out her phone and pointed at the two of you, “I need my two little graduates to take a photo! Both of you hold up the cap, show off UMich!”

You smiled, holding up one side of your cap as Luke took hold of the other. You were still tucked into his side with his left arm around your waist as the two of you smiled brightly at the camera. You tried to ignore the electric feel of his hand holding your waist while posing for pictures. He never moved that hand as Jack and Quinn hopped in for a few pictures, then the Mothers, and then the Dads.

The Hughes hosted the graduation party in their backyard, lots of the Hughes brothers’ friends attending, many which you were familiar with and a few of your close friends joining too. Ellen went full out with getting large balloons and setting up tables with various snacks and drinks for people to enjoy.

Happiness filled the air, with celebration of achieving a milestone with all of your friends and the buzz of summer without any responsibilities being right around the corner. You were currently catching up with Jack’s friends Alex, Trevor, and Cole — who you were more than familiar with after spending multiple summers at the lake house together.

Luke stood between Quinn and Jack, as they talked about their plans for the summer. But Luke’s attention was elsewhere. He was admiring the relaxed and friendly nature that you held while chatting with the three hockey players. He could see the relief of finishing high school written all over your face, the many nights you spent studying for tests or completing assignments which all paid off. Luke was there with you on those nights whether it be on FaceTime as he kept you company while laying in bed as you flipped through pages, or when you spent the night at his house. Where you sat at his desk, typing away at your computer while Luke rewatched his performance from his previous game and studied how to improve his game.

You were happy, and he swore you were glowing with how the sunlight shined on you.

“When are you going to tell her?” Quinn nudged Luke’s side, breaking his trance. Luke’s eyes widened slightly as he turned to look at Quinn,

“Huh?”

Quinn chuckled, “Oh c’mon dude, you’ve been in love with her for years.”

Luke’s face flushed red, “I have not!”

His palms got clammy the second Quinn called him out. Luke knew he caught feelings for you ages ago, although he didn’t exactly know when. But he told himself that you would never see him the same. He buried his feelings for you to make sure that you or anyone else would never find out. Because as much as he loved you, he would rather just be your friend than to lose you.

“You don’t have to deny it,” Jack snickered at Luke’s obvious embarrassment, “We’ve known for the longest time.”

“And you two are both going to the same college, like bro you’re literally set.” Quinn added, while sipping his drink, “She loves you too if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Luke’s eyes widened even more, “She told you that?!”

Quinn shook his head, laughing under his breath, “No, but I- we can all tell.”

“I just don’t wanna make things weird or mess anything up,” Luke mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck before glancing over to you, “We’ve known each other for years and I can’t lose her.”

“You’re being so dramatic,” Jack groaned, “You’re never going to lose her unless you do something royally fucked up because you matter just as much to her.”

“You know her just as well as you know us,” Quinn told Luke, “You’ve got to feel something when you’re around her that tells you how she’s feeling.”

Luke sighed, looking back at you. Your eyes met his and you gave him a small look that was a silent message for, ‘my social battery is going and I need to take a breather’. Luke offered a small nod and his eyes flickered to the glass sliding door, “Sorry guys, hold on.” He quickly apologized to his brothers before leaving them.

“Whipped.” Jack laughed as he lowly shook his head with a small knowing smile on his face.

You had also excused yourself from Trevor’s conversation before meeting Luke by the door. He slid it opened and motioned you to go in, him following you.

“You okay?” Luke asked you softly with an hand on your lower back as the two of you walked towards the living room.

You let out a breath of relief, “Yeah, I’m okay! It’s just hot and lots of talking. I just needed to get away for a little bit.”

He wore a small smile, “Yeah I get that. Good turn out though, eh?”

You nodded, settling onto the couch, “Mhm, I’m happy everyone was able to come. I just can’t believe I’m officially done high school, like, that’s crazy to me!”

“Next stop is UMich,” Luke told you, his arm resting on the cushion behind your back as you laid your head on his shoulder, “Well, lake house summer first then we’re off to college.”

“Another adventure for us,” You sighed, relaxing into his side, “It’s going to be good, Lukey, I can feel it.”

₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

Cardboard boxes bumped against your knees as you shift your weight, balancing a duffel bag over one shoulder and clutching your welcome packet between your teeth. It was move-in day which meant it was hot, chaotic, and full of stressed-out parents and RAs with clipboards.

As you finally get the door to your dorm open and drop your stuff inside, a voice behind you called out.

“Need help, Bear?”

You don’t even have to turn around. You already know exactly who that voice belongs to.

“What are you doing here?” You said, glancing over your shoulder to look at him. You and Luke didn’t know which rooms you’d be in prior to move in day, so you were pleasantly surprised to see him.

Luke is standing in the doorway across the hall, holding a mini fridge like it weighed nothing. His curls were a sweaty mess from hauling his boxes upstairs, and there’s a little smile on his face, the same one he’s had since grade three when you two discovered that you would be in the same class together.

“I think we’re living across the hall from each other,” Luke said to you before he kicked his door open with his heel and disappeared into his room for a second before popping back out.

“You need any help?” Luke asked, “You know, since I have strong arms that can carry things for you.”

You wiped away some of the sweat on your forehead, “Oh shush, just because you were at the gym every day this summer doesn’t mean anything.”

Luke nodded, “Okay, let me know if you need any help though.”

“This is going to be so fun, Lukey. Living across the hall from each other.” You laughed, “We should get dinner tonight.”

“Yeah, for sure.” He nodded while shoving the doorstop under his door, keeping it open while he started to settle into his dorm.

You spent the next hour getting your half of the dorm room set up. Your roommate, Lexie, arrived halfway through unpacking with three suitcases, multiple tote bags filled with decor and multiple posters.

“I already stalked the floor on the group chat,” She confessed to you, fanning herself with a laminated packing list, “I think we’re across from some of the players of the hockey team. You know any of them?”

You hesitated slightly while halfway through folding your comforter, “Yeah, one of them.”

“Oh?” She raised an eyebrow, “Know him how?”

You shrugged, “We grew up together.”

Lexie paused, then peeked out the open door and immediately spotted Luke across the hall, UMich hockey shirt sticking to his back as he dragged a mattress topper into place.

“That’s Luke Hughes?” She whispered like he’s already a campus celebrity, “He’s on the varsity team. The girls have already been talking about him! Did you know his brothers are in the NHL, they’re like super hot!”

You snorted, shaking your heading slightly, “Gross.”

Lexie glanced between the two of you again, noticing how he gave you a small crooked smile when your eyes met, “You two have that energy, though.”

You put down your comforter and gave her a look, “What energy?”

“You know… the will they finally get together or friends to lovers but haven’t reached the lovers stage yet, kind.”

“We’re just friends,” You laughed as you turned your focus back to your bedding.

Lexie smirked, noticing how your cheeks were slightly pinker than before, “Sure, you keep telling yourself that, and I’ll keep your delusions safe under my pillow.”

Across the hall, Luke tossed a pack of protein bars that Ellen packed him into his desk drawer when his own roommate, Ethan Edwards, walked in. They met each other briefly at the hockey team’s orientation that same morning and they kicked it off.

“She’s hella cute,” Ethan said immediately, dropping his duffel bag and glancing across the hall to your door.

Luke doesn’t even have to ask who Ethan was referring to, “Shut up.”

“No, seriously,” Ethan told him, “Girl next door vibes, have you met her yet?”

Ethan chuckled to himself after, realizing the unintended pun that he had just said. 

“Yeah.” Luke replied with his voice trying to stay casual, “She’s… Y/N, we’ve known each other forever.”

Ethan eyed him carefully before looking back towards your room, “Forever like ‘same elementary school,’ or forever like ‘you were in love with her before you knew what love was’?”

Luke rolled his eyes at him, “We’re friends.”

Ethan raised both of his hands in surrender, “Dude, no judgment. I’m just saying, you keep looking at her like she’s your favourite highlight reel.”

Luke scoffed and tossed a hoodie onto his bed. But he doesn’t deny it, because Ethan’s not wrong.

Later that day after hours of setting up your rooms, you and Luke ended up in the hallway again. The both of you trying to order pizza while standing on opposite sides of the hall with your doors open.

“What are you getting?” He asked, leaning against his doorframe, with his phone in hand. Luke had his hood over his head like he typically did when he was tired.

“Pepperoni for you and I got veggie, don’t judge. I don’t want to hear your slander.” You mumbled before crossing the short distance to stand next to him. He put his arm around your shoulders as you peered over to look at his phone screen.

“I’m judging a little,” Luke chuckled as he scrolled through his reels, “That’s not real pizza.”

“Says the guy who puts pineapple on his,” You shot back, referring to the night he had requested Hawaiian pizza at the lake house before everyone started to flame him.

“Oh shut up,” He said, drumming his fingers against your shoulder, “That was one time, plus it’s really not that bad. You gotta give it a chance.”

“You’re insane.” You smiled up at him which he returned. Somewhere in the middle of the light and playful teasing, a silence settled, not necessarily awkward. More so the realization that you and Luke were officially living alone and outside of the protection of Jim, Steven, Ellen, and Mandy. You were adults now. You could do whatever you wanted, no one else really knew you two or the history the two of you had. You were just Y/N and he was just Luke. You both felt it, even if you won’t say anything about it. 

You stay relaxed at his side, “Is your roommate nice?”

Luke nodded, “Yeah, his name is Ethan. He’s from Canada and he’s really cool, I think you’d get along.”

You hummed, “I’m so hungry.”

“It’ll be here soon, Bear,” Luke reassured you.

You and Luke were quick to fall into a comfortable routine that involved going to classes, him going to practice and team lifts, while you went to study at the library. College has been great, you loved your campus and all of your classes. You loved how you and Luke got to experience it together. He had introduced you to his teammates, Ethan, who you met already, Mark, Dylan, and Mackie. You got along great with them, given how you were used to hockey players from growing up with the Hughes and meeting all their friends. You would study together, attend his games, go to frat parties on the weekends, and grab meals together. It was different in comparison to high school, but a good different. You liked being able to spend so much time with Luke, he was your person after all. Around him, you could be yourself completely.

The late-night quiet of the dorm was comforting and peaceful, if you could ignore the muffled sounds of people laughing and talking down the hall. The clock on the wall ticked softly as you sat at the desk in Luke’s dorm room, your laptop open on one end of his desk, the glow of the screen lighting up the mess of papers and pens across the desk.

It was a familiar scene, one that you encountered on a regular basis. Luke, leaning back in his chair, looking over notes with an expression that could be described as borderline failing miserably but I’m drafted to NHL so my grades don’t really matter. You, on the other hand, are buried in your textbooks, trying to keep your concentration intact while you explain concepts for the tenth time. 

You were used to this role, the one where you’re always the one to hold things together academically. But something about this time feels different. Maybe it’s because the room is so quiet, or maybe it’s because of the way his gaze drifts toward you, like he’s waiting for the right moment to say something more than ‘help me with this’.

You glanced over at him, and he caught your eye. His lips quirked up into a lazy smile, the one that always managed to make you forget what you were thinking about.

“You look like you’re prepping to solve cancer or something,” He teased, his voice low but playful, as though the joke is the only thing keeping him from drowning in the pile of chemistry notes in front of him.

“Prepping for not failing,” You corrected him with a shrug, before writing down the answer to a problem in your notebook, “Which is more than I can say for someone whose flashcards say ‘thingy that explodes’ instead of ‘combustion reaction.’” You tried to keep your tone casual, but the playful jab has an edge of affection to it.

Luke looked down at his flashcards and groaned, “Hey, it works for me. You don’t see me freaking out over these equations.”

He picked up one of his cards, glancing at it with a concentrated expression, “Okay, so what’s this one again? The thing that goes boom?”

You suppressed a smile, rolling your eyes as you leaned closer to his side of the desk. “You’re hopeless,” You said, taking the card from his hand and flipping it around to show him the correct answer.

“I’m not hopeless,” He replied, dragging his hands down his face and across his jaw in an exaggerated motion. You gave him a small look while lowly shaking your head.

“I’m just… misdirected.” Luke told you while he held up his hands in surrender, mock-pleading, “Come on, save me from myself. Teach me how to actually learn this.”

You can’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. Despite the fact that he’s one of the most athletically gifted people you’ve ever met, the way he struggled with academics was almost endearing.

“You know,” You started slowly, inching your chair closer to him, “You could probably ace this stuff if you paid attention to class and not only focused on hockey. I mean, you’re not stupid, Lukey.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying your words, “Yeah? Try telling my chem professor that.”

“Your professor is a walking disaster,” You told him with a light chuckle, “And we both know that.”

Luke laughed, shaking his head as he leaned back in his chair again, “Yeah, she does tend to go on tangents in lecture. But you’re the one who actually gets this stuff. Seriously, though, how do you do it?”

You blinked at him, unsure of what he meant, “How do I- do what?”

“Get it all,” Luke repeated, waving his hand around the room as if the entire weight of your life hangs in the air. “School. Your friends. Family. Everything. You make it look easy.”

Your heart tugged at the sincerity in his voice. You knew Luke admired you in some way, but hearing it spoken out loud is different. It makes you want to say something, anything, because for a brief moment, you forget about the textbooks and the flashcards. All you can think about is him, sitting across from you like he’s waiting for some grand answer to his question.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, “I don’t make it look easy,” You told him softly, “I just… I don’t let myself think about it too much. I just do it.”

Luke studied you carefully for a moment. You catch the way his eyes lingered on your face, just a fraction too long for it to be a casual glance. He looks like he’s weighing his options for next words, unsure if he should continue this line of conversation or pull back into the comfortable space the two of you built over the years.

Before you can speak again, Luke cleared his throat and straightened his posture, his playful grin returning, “Well, at least someone here has their life together.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes, “Okay, Mr. 4th overall NHL draft pick.”

His eyes had an unfamiliar glint in them when he looked back at you, his eyes flickered over your features before he turned back to his notes. Your breath caught in your throat as you tried to focus on the study materials in front of you. You’re both avoiding the unspoken tension that’s been building between you for weeks now, maybe since the lake house. The tension that’s simmered under your friendly interactions, the flirty banter that’s lingered just a bit too long in the air, the subtle touches that became normal between the two of you.

You glanced at him, and he caught you again. This time, his gaze softened for just a second before he stood abruptly, breaking the moment. “Alright, alright, I need a break. Let’s go get something to eat or something, does ice cream sound good?”

You blinked, surprised at the abrupt change in his energy, but you nodded, “Yeah, sure. Ice cream sounds good.”

Luke pushed himself out of his chair, stretching out his limbs from sitting too long before he grabbed his hat and placed it over his curls that have grown since the start of the school term. He goes to the door and holds it open for you. You follow, but your mind was still tangled in the brief flicker of vulnerability that passed between you just seconds before. You wonder if he felt it too, or if it’s just you. But either way, you’re both pretending it doesn’t matter.

₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

The music is too loud, the kind of bass-heavy, thumping beats that vibrated through your chest. The floor is sticky beneath your shoes, and the air smells like spilled drinks and sweaty bodies. It's the usual college frat party vibe, fun, chaotic, a little messy, and everyone trying to forget about the homework that hung over them like an invisible blanket.

But you don't want to be here. Not really. The only reason you're even at this party is because Lexie convinced you to go, “Loosen up," She said to you while getting ready in your shared bathroom, "Get a little wild, do it for the plot, and it's the weekend."

She’d been pulling at you like that lately, trying to get you to flirt, to have fun. Especially after you told her that you and Luke are strictly friends and will never be more than that. Lexie could see how the built up tension between you and Luke recently has been bothering you, even though you refuse to do anything about it. Every time you spend time with it, the tension thickened where the two of you are both walking on a fine line between staying the same way you’d always been since babies, or maybe exploring something more. At least, that’s how you felt, no matter how much you tried to shove down your feelings. 

And tonight, it’s not just that your gaze was drawn to him. It was something else, a sense of jealousy that settled in your chest when you saw him with her.

Luke.

And her.

The blonde. You don’t even know her name. But it didn’t matter. She’s the one hanging off his arm, where you usually stood, she was laughing way too loud at something he barely said. The way she leaned in close, fingers grazing his chest, tilted her head in that practiced way that’s designed to pull guys. You feel like you’re watching something that shouldn’t be happening.

Your stomach tightened as you forced yourself to focus on Dylan and Ethan, the guys from Luke’s hockey team, who were currently talking to you. They were talking, but you’re not really listening. Dylan’s words are a blur, the sounds of his voice blending into the background of your thoughts. All you can think about is Luke being across the room, standing too close to that blonde, his body language open, laughing at something she’s said. 

Ethan frowned as he noticed the change in your behaviour. He’d become a close friend while being Luke’s roommate and teammate, meaning that you two had spent decent time together, “You okay?” He asked you over the loud music, his eyes flickered towards Luke’s direction.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You shrugged, attempting to stay unbothered by Luke and the girl but ultimately failing to hide that from Ethan.

You’re aware that it’s petty and that you shouldn’t really care. He’s allowed to have a life, to talk to whoever he wants. But a part of you, the part that’s been pretending for weeks that you’re okay with just being friends, wanted to scream. Part of you wanted to make him notice you, wanted to pull him away and show him how ridiculous this all feels.

You don’t. Instead, you shift uncomfortably, nodding along with Dylan’s joke, but it’s hollow. You laughed only because it feels like the right thing to do while you tried to distract yourself. It was obvious you’re not really paying attention to anything around you.

And then, of course, you met his eyes. His blue eyes.

Across the crowded room, through the colourful lights and the haze of smoke from people’s vapes and pens, your eyes locked. For a split second, time seemed to slow down. It’s just Luke. Just you. And the rest of the world is a blur. You swallowed hard, unsure of what he was thinking. His face doesn’t show surprise, but there’s a flicker of something in his eyes.

Then the moment’s over, Luke doesn’t look back at you again. Instead, he turned his attention back to the blonde, who laughed louder than before, and you feel something sharp twist in your gut. You forced yourself to look away, forcing yourself to stop thinking about how things used to be so simple between the two of you. How his attention used to be yours, how you didn’t have to share him with anyone other than his brothers and your parents.

Later into the night, when you’re getting another drink, you spot him across the room again. This time, he’s watching you. There’s no mistaking it, you could feel his eyes following your movements. His gaze is fixed on you, his expression was unreadable, but you can feel the weight of it on your skin. But you don’t go over to him and you don’t approach. You just stand there for a moment, breath caught in your throat, before you walked away.

You’re not sure how to feel, a part of you wanted to scream at him for even looking at her the way he does. For laughing with her and ditching you at a party. For acting like the last few months when it was just the two of you, sitting together in dorm rooms or late nights at the library, talking about everything and nothing, hadn’t been real. But another part of you, the one that really knows him, tells you it doesn’t mean anything. He’s just doing what he’s always done: being Luke. Being charming. Being the guy who has the drawing confidence that pulls people towards him without him even trying.

But then why was it hurting so much?

You hated the part of you that feels possessive, the part that wants him all to yourself. You never felt this way before, you always knew that he was there for you no matter what. You never had to worry that he would put someone else before you, because it had always just been you and Luke. Disregarding your previous boyfriends, Luke was always there to support you, keep you company, and to comfort you.

Does he even see you the way you see him?

You’ve never been good at saying what you feel, not when it matters or when it comes to big emotions like the ones you’ve been feeling. Maybe it’s better that way. Because if you let yourself admit what’s been building inside you for months, maybe it would destroy everything. Or maybe it’s already too late for that. Now, more than ever, you really wished that you could sit down with your mom or even Quinn to get their advice. 

The week after the party feels like walking through fog. Everything is there, but it’s hazy, unclear, the edges softened by an almost unbearable sense of distance. You told yourself that it’s just because you’re both busy studying, he had hockey practices, socials that you don’t really want to go to, but feel obligated to attend. But the truth, buried beneath all the distractions, is that the distance is because of him. You’d been pushing him away because you were scared, after feeling the strong jealousy at the party and seeing him with another girl in his arms, you were scared. You still spent time with him but you kept a small distance, shorter responses, calculated laughs, and avoiding any intimate moments with him. 

Luckily, Luke knew you and he kept his distance from you. He knew that you must’ve been going through something, but he wouldn’t pressure you into telling him. He knew you would come around eventually, so he let the distance between you two grow.  

Every time you pass him in the hall, the hollow ache in your chest grows stronger, and no matter how much you try to bury it, the jealousy, the longing, it’s always there, just lurking beneath the surface. You see him in the distance, talking to a group of his teammates, laughing too easily with them, and for a moment, you can almost convince yourself that it’s just a harmless crush and how it’s just a phase that will pass. But you know better.

The sharp pangs of something more make it hard to breathe.

He’s so close, and yet, he's always so far away.

You can’t pinpoint exactly when it happened, when your feelings started shifting, when the walls you’d built to protect yourself started to crumble. Was it that first time he looked at you, really looked at you, like he saw you as something more than just his friend that he grew up with? Or was it the countless nights, sitting together in his dorm room, laughing over different stupid things, sharing moments you never let anyone else see? Maybe it’s the way his hand brushed against yours, a casual touches that sent your heart into overdrive, or the way his gaze lingered on you just a second too long when he thinks you aren’t looking that made your skin heat up.

The worst part of all of it, was that he seemed so unaware of it and of you. Of the way you’ve been falling for him, little by little, while he remained oblivious to the quiet chaos building inside you. And now, for the first time in your life, you’re not too sure how to act around him. You couldn’t just go back to being the friend you’ve always been, treating him as the same little blonde Lukey that you knew since you were in diapers, because he wasn’t the same as back then. You both grew up, with him becoming an elite hockey player that everyone knew on campus and you were just his childhood friend. But the thought of telling him what had been slowly eating away at you, felt like the most dangerous thing you could do. The risk of losing him completely terrified you.

Tonight was no different, you’re sitting in the library, the soft hum of the fluorescent lights overhead barely enough to drown out the thoughts that were racing through your mind. The place is nearly empty, except for a few scattered students, their heads buried deep in their textbooks. You’re across from Luke again, his hockey gear bag sprawled carelessly beside his chair, his legs stretched out under the table as he typed away at his phone.

You hated how easily he could just turn off everything. He has this ability to compartmentalize, to separate the world from what’s happening in his head. He’d been like this for a while now, confident, composed, a natural at deflecting whatever chaos might be around him.

And you... you’re sitting here, fully aware that the only thing you can focus on was him. How his hair falls over his forehead, how he had been letting his curls grow out, how his shoulders slumped slightly in the chair, how he seemed so at ease even when everything feels like it’s falling apart for you.

Your eyes drifted over to him as he put down his phone, leaning back in his chair with a small sighing exhale. His blue eyes meet yours, and for a brief moment, you wondered if he could see what you were feeling. But he just smiled at you, that easy, carefree crooked grin that he’s always had since he was a toddler. The one that makes your heart stutter and skip a couple of beats.

“You’re awfully quiet today, Bear,” Luke said, his voice low, but playful. He doesn’t seem to notice how much his words sting, how much it hurts to hear him act like everything is fine when it’s anything but.

You nodded, forcing a smile, “Just trying to get through this stupid twenty page reading, you know how it is.”

He laughed softly, the sound was familiar and comforting. However, there’s a sense of something off in his tone, a subtle edge to it that caught your attention, “I don’t know how you do it, with studying all the time and putting your life into school.”

Your chest tightened at the words, you wonder if he even saw what you’re really struggling with. How much you’re holding back just to keep up the act and how your recent hyperfixation on studying was only a way to avoid confronting your feelings. 

“You’ve got other things to worry about,” You told him, forcing the words past the ball in your throat, “I mean, like being the best hockey player on campus?”

Luke smirked, a glimmer of pride flashed in his eyes, “I guess so, but I’m pretty sure that doesn’t count as an academic achievement. I’m lucky that my best friend is also my personal tutor.”

You raised an eyebrow, trying to match his playful energy, but inside, you’re a mess. You wanted to tell him that it’s more than that, that you’re not just his best friend. But you don’t. You can’t. Not yet.

Instead, you settled into the silence between you, putting your focus back to your textbook, since it’s all you can do to keep your hands from shaking. He’s sitting there, so close, but it feels like miles of space is between you.

As if by some cruel twist of fate, you saw her again, the blonde. The same one from the party. She walked into the library, head held high, and as she passed your table, not even glancing at you as she offered him a flirtatious smile. He grinned back, a little too easily.

Your stomach clenched with the kind of discomfort you can’t ignore bubbling up, an unspoken reminder of everything you had been avoiding. You tell yourself it shouldn’t matter, that he’s allowed to talk to whoever he wanted, that you don’t have a claim over him. But the jealousy still crawled up your throat, and it was thick and suffocating.

You looked away, pretending to focus on your MacBook, but all you could think about is how easily she can just walked into his world, how easily she could claim a piece of him, a piece of the person you’ve always tried to protect.

For a moment, you hated her. You hated how effortlessly she fits into this world that’s always felt just out of reach for you. How she didn’t have to worry about ruining a lifelong friendship and being able to have him as something more. You hated that you wanted to be the one who gets to talk to him like that. To have him look at you, like you were the only girl to walk the Earth. 

The walls you had been building this time were crumbling, and the worst part was that you told yourself that it was all your fault. That you let yourself get this attached and that you let yourself care. But the more you saw him with other people, the more you realized that you didn’t even know who you were when you’re not with him. You didn’t know how to be just his friend anymore.

You wanted to say something, and you wanted to reach across the table and tell him everything you had been holding inside. You wanted to tell him how much it was hurting you and how it was slowly breaking you to pretend like you don’t care. But you couldn’t, not when you’re on the edge of something that could ruin everything.

You and Luke walked back to your dorms that night, in a comfortable silence. The February snow falling slowly and landing on your hair, “You okay?” Luke asked you, even though he knew you wouldn’t give him a truthful answer.

“Yeah,” You mumbled, “Just been tired lately.”

He nodded slowly, “You’ve been a bit distant lately, you sure you’re okay?”

You hummed, “Just midterm stress getting to me, you know.”

Luke sighed, running a hand through the mess of his curls, “Okay, just cut yourself some slack and don’t overstres yourself, Bear” 

“I know, Lukey.”

You said your goodnights before entering your dorm, you relaxed into your bed after getting ready for the night as you pulled out your phone and dialling the number to the person you’d been meaning to talk to, he picked up after the second ring.

“Hey, Quinn,” You mumbled, “I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time.”

He chuckled, “No, you’re good. I’m just making dinner right now, what’s up?”

You sunk further into your mattress, holding the phone to your ear, “Just need to talk to someone with emotional intelligence.”

“You okay?” He asked you, you could hear the tinge of concern in his voice, “Is this about Lukey? Or is there some other guy that I don’t know about”

“It’s about Luke,” You said, almost a wave of relief in your voice from finally being able to talk to Quinn, “I think I’m falling hard for him, and he’s been kind of seeing this other girl that he met at some party. And it’s been kinda killing me.”

You could basically hear the frown in his voice, “Lukey’s been talking to another girl?”

You hummed a small response, “She’s really pretty.”

“That doesn’t sound right,” Quinn told you with amusement laced in his voice, “There’s no way Luke is actually talking to a girl who isn’t you.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I’m not supposed to tell you this but he’s had the biggest crush on you for years, he’s just been too scared to do anything about it,” Quinn chuckled, “I promise you that you have nothing to worry about, Bear, you both need to just take the leap of faith.”

“I just don’t want to lose him, Quinn,” You confessed to him, “He’s literally my other half, I don’t know who I would be without him.”

“And he feels the exact same way about you,” He reassured you with the same comfort in his tone that he always had when talking to you, “It will work out, Bear. Don’t stress yourself too much over it.”

₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

The night air was crisp, a slight chill that bit at your skin, but it’s not uncomfortable. Not when you’re wrapped in Luke’s UMich hockey hoodie that was a few sizes too big for you, the sleeves swallowing your hands, the faint scent of ice and detergent still lingered on the fabric. You sat on the same bench outside the Yost Arena, the one under the flickering streetlight. It’s always a little unreliable, flashing once before settling into its usual steady glow. The rink itself is quiet now, save for the hum of campus around you, like the calm after the storm of the game.

You spotted Luke before he saw you, his large duffel bag slung over his shoulder, curls damp from the shower, cheeks flushed from the adrenaline of the game. There’s always an energy about him after a game, restless, electric, but tonight it’s different. Something else is weighing on him, and you could feel it, even from where you sat.

He didn’t notice you right away. His eyes scanned the area, distant, lost in his thoughts, until they finally landed on you. He hesitated for a second before his usual crooked half-smile appeared, but it didn't quite reach his eyes this time.

“You made it,” He breathed out, his voice softer than usual.

You nodded with a small teasing grin, “Did you think I wouldn’t? I always come to your game, Lukey. I have to come support my favorite idiot.”

He chuckled, dropping his bag beside the bench near your feet, “Yeah, but I wasn’t sure you’d come with the stress you’d been going through,” His eyes glanced to the ground for a moment, then back up to you, something in his gaze shifted, “You know, with midterms and being distant lately,”

You feel your chest tightened at his words, you’ve wondered for a while now if Luke’s had noticed you pulling away. How you were like a thousand miles away and lost in your own thoughts, even when he’s sitting right next to you. 

He tried to ignore it, but it’s been hard. It’s like you have been retreating into yourself, and he didn’t know how to reach you. He worried that it was something that he did to you even though he couldn’t exactly put a finger on it… Until it sunk in, how he had been hanging out with that blonde since the party and how he caught your eyes from across the room and how he saw the wave of hurt wash over your face. How he had been spending time with that girl while you buried yourself in studying, just so that you could help him understand the class material better. 

“I came because I still care,” You said quietly, the words spilling out before you can stop them. 

You’re not sure what you expected, but this didn’t feel like the conversation you had in mind when you showed up tonight, only expecting the typical small conversation about his game as the two of you walked back to your dorms like normal. The nervous energy that hung between you both is palpable, and you wonder if he could feel it too.

He ran his hand through his curls while he looked away, his jaw tightened, “I don’t know what’s going on with me and you lately,” He admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. 

You nodded slowly, the knot in your stomach tightening at his words, “I’m not sure if you felt it too but things between us have been changing,”

Luke looked at you again, his expression was unreadable, “I never meant to push you away or hurt you by talking to that girl, I just-” He hesitated, as if he’s weighing his next words in his head, “I didn’t know how to deal with everything I’ve been feeling and I didn’t want to risk hurting you or anything or losing our friendship.”

His words left you breathless, you knew that you had been distant because of your own feelings and you remembered what Quinn had told you over the phone but hearing him say it out loud makes the weight of it sink in.

You tried to shake off the sudden rush of emotions in your chest, “For whatever it’s worth, I’m still here and been next to you since we were born,”

Luke’s eyes softened, and he gave you that small smile that had always been reserved for you, the one that has always made your heart race. He sat down beside you on the bench, close but not quite touching..

“Thanks for being here,” He murmured, “I don’t deserve it, not after putting you through that.”

You smiled, pulling the sleeves of his hoodie further over your hands for extra warmth from the chills of March, “You don’t have to deserve it, I’m here because I want to be.”

For a long moment, the two of you sit in silence, the only sound is the soft rustling of branches in the breeze. You tried to ignore the tension between you, but it’s hard to shake. Luke seemed lost in his own thoughts, his gaze fixed on the stone path ahead of you two.

Out of nowhere he spoke up again, his voice low but steady, “There’s this moment, right before a face-off,” He said, the familiar intensity in his voice, “Everything goes still. The crowd, the pressure, even your own thoughts. It all just kinda… locks in. You know something big is about to happen, like you can feel it.”

You looked back at him, your heart suddenly racing. His blue eyes are intense, focused, but there’s something vulnerable about him tonight. He’s not the confident hockey player you’ve always known. Tonight, he’s just Luke, the same Luke that carried your  backpack every day when you injured your shoulder, the same Luke that held you while you cried after being broken up with, and the same Luke that saw you for the first time in your prom dress.

“That’s how I feel right now,” Luke continued as his voice was soft and barely above a whisper.

The words hit you harder than you expected, you’ve never seen him this serious, you don’t breathe while you held the air in your throat.

He shifted, turning to face you fully, “We’ve been in each other’s lives forever, like since literal birth. You were there before the skates, before the first team tryout, before I ever touched a puck. You've seen every part of me, even the parts I wanted no one else to see,” He hesitated, his eyes never left yours, “And somehow, you stayed.”

Your heart was pounding, but it’s not from confusion or fear. It’s from something else, something you’re not sure you’re ready for, but it’s here, it’s real.

“I don’t know when exactly it changed,” Luke told you before taking a deep breath, “But I know what it is now and I think I’ve known for a while and I can’t keep pretending it’s not there. I love you, Bear. And not like a best friend, not like someone who’s always been around. I love you in the way that terrifies me, but also makes complete sense in my head. Like it is what I was made for.”

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. His words leave you breathless, and the world around you seemed to stand still. You’ve known Luke for so long, but at this moment, everything became so real. All the emotions and feelings that you had been running away from, shoving down, all of it came surging at once.

As if the words aren’t enough, he leaned in closer to you with his voice barely above a whisper, “I’m yours. Always have been, yours truly.”

The moment hangs in the air, and for a second, you didn’t know what to say. The weight of everything he’s said, the vulnerability, the emotions, and the truth pressed in on you. You finally found your voice, your words soft and filled with a mix of affection and disbelief,

 “You really are an idiot,” You said with slight amusement in your tone. Luke furrowed his brows in confusion, and you laughed, a soft and relieved sound, “I’ve been in love with you since you let me wear your jersey in freshman year of highschool and then acted like it didn’t mean anything,” 

His eyes widened in disbelief, “Wait, what?”

“You thought you were the only one feeling like this?” You grinned, leaning closer to him and wrapped your arms around his neck, “I’ve been waiting for this moment for years.”

Before he could respond, you kissed him.

It’s slow at first, like both of you are testing the waters, unsure but sure at the same time. Luke’s hand curled around the back of your neck, pulling you closer, like he’s afraid to let you go. The kiss deepened and it’s messy, but it’s everything.

When you pulled away, your head spinned from the intensity of it. You rested against his shoulder, his arm easily slipping around your waist.

“Took you long enough, Lukey,” You teased but with affection.

He chuckled softly, his face buried in your hair, “Yeah, but I figured it out, didn’t I?”

And just like that, the world falls into place. The quiet is no longer waiting. It’s where you were always meant to be. The cold still lingers in the air, but it no longer matters. You’re wrapped in the warmth of Luke’s arms, his presence filling the space between you both in a way that makes everything else feel irrelevant. For a few moments, you simply sit there, letting the silence wrap around you like a blanket. The world feels far away and quieter now that the uncertainty that had been chewing away at you had been stripped away.

Luke’s arm is loosely around your waist, his thumb tracing slow, steady circles on your side. His warmth radiating onto you, and you wonder if you’ll ever be able to pull away. The rush of everything that’s just happened is still swirling in your chest, but there’s something calming about being here with him now, like this was the only place you were meant to be all along.

“You’re quiet,” Luke mumbled after a while, his voice low and a little rough, like he’s still processing everything too, “I didn’t expect you to- well, I didn’t expect that after my game.”

You chuckled softly, your head still resting against his shoulder, your heart fluttering at the realization that he’s with you like this, “What? You thought I’d just sit here and let you confess your undying love without me saying anything?” You joked, but the words feel different now. More genuine and more real.

Luke shifted slightly, his face turning toward yours. The seriousness in his gaze hasn’t gone away, but there’s something softer in it now, 

“I don’t know. I didn’t think you’d feel the same way. I didn’t think you’d ever feel the same way.”

You pulled back just enough to meet his eyes and your hands found his, intertwining your fingers together. His touch grounded you like always, even when everything around you is shifting.

“Of course I do, Luke,” You replied, “I always have.”

He looked at you like he’s seeing you for the first time, like he’s trying to make sense of it all. There’s a quiet relief settling on his features, and it makes your heart ache in the best way possible.

“I’m not gonna lie,” He said after a long pause, his thumb lightly stroking the back of your hand, “I’m scared. I’ve always been scared that if I let myself get too close, I’d screw it all up.”

You smiled, the warmth spreading through your chest as you squeezed his hand, “You’re not the only one. I literally had to call Quinn about this, I’ve been terrified of this too, Lukey. But I think… maybe we’ve been scared of the wrong things all along.”

His brows furrowed in confusion, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, we’ve been so afraid of messing things up that we’ve missed what’s been right in front of us. We’ve had all this time together,” You chewed the inside of your cheek as you tried to find the right words, “And yet, somehow, we’ve always been too afraid to take the next step.”

Luke’s gaze softened, and he pulled you closer, wrapping both arms around you, “I don’t want to mess this up, either. I don’t want to lose you.”

You rested your forehead against his, the closeness, the rawness of the moment pulling at something deep inside you, “You won’t lose me, Luke. You’re not going to. But we can’t keep pretending this thing between us isn’t real. It’s been real all along. Even when we’ve been scared. Even when we’ve been apart.”

He let out a long breath that seemed to release some of the tension he’d been holding. He kissed the top of your hair, “I’ve been such an idiot,” Luke mumbled.

You laughed quietly, looking up at him again, “Better late than never, right?”

Luke chuckled, the sound light and easy. It’s the first time in what feels like forever that you’ve heard him laugh without the weight of everything else hanging over him, “Yeah. Better late than never.”

But then, his expression grew serious again, and he pulled back slightly, still holding you but looking at you with that intensity that you’ve come to recognized as the Luke who can’t hide his emotions, even when he tried.

“I’ve been thinking about going home this weekend,” He said, almost hesitantly, “I don’t know if it’s a good idea, but I need to get away for a bit. Just to clear my head. But I want to be honest with you, more than I’ve been in a long time.”

You nodded, understanding where this is going, “You’re planning on leaving?”

He bit his lip, clearly conflicted, “I think I need to. But I want you to know, this… like us, it’s not going anywhere. I don’t want to go home and leave things unsaid between us. I need to figure out… well, a lot of things. But not because I want to walk away, I just- I don’t want to mess this up, not when it’s finally real, I just need time.”

You reached up, cupping his face in your hands to urge him to look at you, “You won’t mess this up, Luke. Not with me. I know it’s scary, but we’ll figure it out. We always have. And if you need to go home, then go. But I hope you know that I’m here for all of it.”

Luke glanced at you for a moment, his eyes searching yours, and then he nodded, the weight of the conversation settling in. He pulled you into another hug, it’s firm and comforting. The embrace is a promise of things unspoken, of a future you both want to build. When you pulled back, your faces are still close, your breath dancing in the cold night air. 

“Just come back to me,” You whispered, your voice barely above your breath.

“I will,” He promised, his forehead resting against yours, “I’ll always come back to you.”

The days after Luke’s confession feels like a quiet storm brewing. You’ve spent days texting back and forth, trying to find a rhythm again, but the distance he’s always hinted at is still there of being scared to commit to the full thing. He’d gone home for the weekend, as he said he would, and though you’re not surprised, it still feels like a void where his presence used to be.

You think about him often, about the way he held you under the dim glow of that streetlight, his words raw and honest in a way that shook you to your core, “I’m yours. Always have been. Yours truly.” You catch yourself grinning at the memory of it as his confession has been playing on a loop in your head since that night.

You sat in the small study area of your dorm, trying to focus on your biology textbook but found your mind wandering instead. It had been a few days off since the game. Your notes feel like a blur, and every text from Luke feels like a thread pulling you both back into a tangled mess of uncertainty. He’d become distant again, but this time, it felt different. He was holding back, not because of fear, but because he’s not sure how to navigate this new version of the two of you together. It bothered you a bit of how you two finally confronted your feelings but how Luke was so quick to run away from facing the future.

The door to your dorm opened and you looked up to see Lexie, your roommate, standing there, leaning against the frame with a look of amusement on her face.

“You okay?” She asked you, her arms crossed over her chest.

You forced a small smile, “Yeah, just studying.”

She raised an eyebrow, a small smirk playing on her lips, “Are you really studying? Or are you staring at your phone and thinking about someone in particular?”

You laughed softly, your cheeks flushing. “Okay, maybe a little of both.”

Lexie stepped fully into the room and letting the door shut behind her, she sat across from you at the small desk.

“I hate to be the one to say it, but you’re both really not being subtle right now.”

“I’m just…” You trailed off, trying to find the right words, “I’m trying to figure out what this is, you know? I mean, we’ve been friends for literally forever and now things are different, but it’s not like I can just jump into a relationship. Not with everything that’s already happened.”

Lexie watched you closely as her eyes softened, “You’re both clearly so in love with each other, it’s almost painful to watch. Seriously, you said you’ve felt this way towards Luke since high school, and you two have been all flirty since we moved in. I don’t even know how many times he’s been here or you being in his dorm. What’s the hold-up?”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair, “I don’t know. I think we’re both still scared, Lexie. I mean, Luke’s been distant again and even though I get it, it’s hard. We’ve never been in this territory before.”

“I get it,” She told you, “But listen, don’t waste time. I can tell you this from watching you two since September, it’s been like eight months now: you are each other’s person. And sometimes the right person doesn’t make it easy, but they’re worth fighting for.”

The weekend passed slowly, Luke texted you a couple of times, letting you know he’s just spent time with Ellen and Jim, and how Mandy had stopped by to visit for a bit. He seemed distracted, but he assured you he was coming back soon. You responded, but each message feels like it’s adding more distance instead of closing the gap.

When Monday finally rolled around, you found yourself walking to Yost almost on autopilot. Your heart beated quicker with each step, you knew he was back today, but you’re not sure what to expect. What do you say after all the unspoken things that hang between you both? 

You saw him before he saw you, like always. Luke stood by the rink, talking to one of his Mark and Mackie with his hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie. The moment your eyes met, something shifted. His posture straightened, and his expression softened, but there’s a hesitance in his movements. Like he’s unsure whether to close the distance between you or keep his distance just a little longer.

When you walked up to him, he greeted you with a small smile, his voice laced with a little bit of uncertainty, “Hey, Bear.”

“Hey,” You replied, you paused for a moment, unsure of where to go from here. It felt like you’re both treading carefully, afraid of stepping on the wrong thing, “How was home? How are Ellen and Jim?”

“It was good, they’re good and said they missed you,” He said with his tone flat, “Just needed some time, you know?”

You nodded, a knot forming in your stomach, “I was worried about you.”

Luke looked at you, there’s a flicker of something in his eyes which you couldn’t quite read, “I didn’t mean to make you feel like I was pushing you away,” He admitted quietly, his hands now out of his pockets, rubbing the back of his jaw awkwardly, “I just… I needed some space to think about everything, about us.”

You swallowed hard as you tried to steady the storm of emotions rising inside of your chest, “Luke… I get it, but you can’t keep pulling away like that. We both know we can’t hide from this anymore.”

He hesitated, then stepped closer to you, his eyes searching yours, “I don’t know how to make it right. I don’t know how to fix everything I’ve screwed up.”

You reached out to him and placed a hand on his arm, mainly to ground him and maybe to ground yourself,  “We don’t have to fix everything right away. But we can start with being honest with each other. No more hiding. No more pretending we’re not scared.”

Luke exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair in frustration, but there’s a shift in him, something opens up in the way he looks at you, “I don’t want to mess this up again. I don’t want to lose you.”

“You’re not going to lose me, I’ve said this to you before,” You told him, your voice firm and steady now, “But you can’t keep pushing me away, Luke. We’re both here. We’ve always been here.”

He stepped closer, the space between you both shrinking until his breath mingled with yours.

“I’m scared,” He said to you with raw honesty in his voice striking you in a way that makes your heart squeeze, “But I’m willing to figure it out. I’m willing to try, if you are.”

You smiled softly, your chest fluttered at his words, “I’m always going to be here for you, you know this.”

And for the first time in a long while, you feel like you’re finally both on the same page, facing the unknown together. Whatever happens next, you know this, this is real. The days after that conversation feel different and almost lighter. The weight of everything unspoken seems to have shifted off your shoulders, and though the air between you and Luke is still thick with emotions, it’s a good kind of tension now. No longer is it the uncertainty of what could be; it’s the anticipation of what will be.

You saw him more now around campus, on the rink, in the dining hall and every interaction, no matter how small, felt charged with something new. Every glance lingered just a little longer, every smile felt a little deeper. Luke was trying, and you’re starting to believe in him again. 

It was a Saturday afternoon when it finally happened. The weather is crisp, with the kind of chill that bites at your cheeks but feels refreshing on the skin. You sat on a bench near the Yost arena, waiting for Luke to finish practice. Your phone buzzed in your hand, and you glanced at the screen to see a text from him.

Lukey: Meet me outside in 10? I have something to say.

Your stomach fluttered with the sudden nervous excitement that you’ve been trying to suppress all day. You typed a quick response,

Bear 🧸: is this a “big talk” or more of a “let’s just hang out” thing?

You don’t expect him to reply fast, but less than a minute later, another message from him popped up.

Lukey: It’s big. So I guess we’ll see if you’re still willing to hang out with me after I say it.

Your heart skipped a couple of beats. You tossed your phone in your tote bag, standing up as you tried to shake off the nerves. A part of you wants to believe it’s going to be something good, but you can’t shake the uncertainty creeping in. What if it’s not what you think?

You don’t have to wait too long before you spot him walking towards you. Luke’s dressed in a sweatshirt, his hockey bag still clinging to him, his eyes locked on you like he’s been waiting for this moment too. When he reached you, there’s no hesitation in his movements. He stepped forward and pulled you into a tight embrace before you could even speak.

“Hey Bear,” He said, his voice softer than usual, “Are you by any chance still mad at me?”

You chuckled and shook your head, “I’m not mad at you.”

“You sure?” He questioned and pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes, his brow furrowed in that worried way.

“Yeah,” You replied as you smiled at him, “Just trying to figure us out.”

He nodded, exhaling like he’s been holding his breath. There’s a pause, a moment of silence that feels like it stretched for just a little too long, before Luke took your hands in his, holding them firmly, like he’s not going to let go until he’s said everything that’s been weighing on him.

“I’ve been thinking a lot lately,” He begins, his voice steady but quiet, “About us. About what happened before I left. And I’ve realized that, all this time, I’ve been too scared to admit it,” He hesitated, swallowing hard before looking at you, “That I want you. I want this with you. No more pretending.”

You could feel your heartbeat against your chest, the words you’ve been waiting for, hoping for, finally spilled from him. You tried to meet his gaze, but it’s hard with your heart pounding so loudly you felt like he could hear it.

“I don’t want to hide anymore,” Luke continued, his hands squeezing around yours, “I want to be with you, for real,” He finished, the words slipping out with a kind of finality that makes your heart soar, “No more playing games or playing it safe, no more holding back.”

You blinked a couple of times as his words sank in, your chest full of emotions you can’t name. Your heart swells with relief, with joy, and with a kind of peaceful certainty that you never thought you’d get.

He stepped closer to you with his face inches from yours now. He paused, looking at you with a softness that’s unlike anything you’ve seen in him before.

“So,” He said with a slow smile forming, “Will you be my girlfriend? I know it’s a big question, but I’m hoping you’ll say yes.”

Your heart skipped a beat. The word you’ve been waiting to hear. The official title. And all you can do is smile because, in that moment, nothing else matters.

“I’ll say yes,” You answered with a firm voice but filled with all the joy you can’t contain, “Since it seems to matter a lot to you.”

Luke grinned and rolled his eyes playfully, his hands slipped to your waist as he pulled you into a kiss for the first time since the two of you had initially confessed your feelings. It’s soft at first but then, as if something inside both of you clicked into place, it deepens, the kiss becoming more urgent, more sure, like this is the moment everything shifted. You’ve both crossed that line, the one between friendship and an official relationship, and neither of you were planning on looking back.

When you pulled away, breathless, Luke rested his forehead against yours, “I can’t believe we’re finally doing this, after everything.”

“You’re not the only one,” You mumbled, your hand resting on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart, “But I’m glad we are.”

The weeks after you and Luke officially got together are nothing short of magical. Every day feels like you’re discovering a new piece of him, and he’s doing the same with you. It’s not the whirlwind passion that you see in movies, it’s more like two best friends who’ve found their way back to each other in the most perfect of ways. It’s soft, slow, and steady.

On a lazy Sunday afternoon, you find yourselves in his dorm room. You’re sprawled across his bed, watching some random movie that neither of you really cared about. His arm is wrapped loosely around your waist, and every now and then, his fingers lightly brushed against the bare skin of your side. It’s a touch so gentle it could’ve been accidental, but it sends a shiver of warmth through you every time.

Luke’s got a half-grin on his face, eyes flickering back and forth between the screen of his laptop and you, “You’re not even paying attention,” he teased.

You rolled your eyes but didn't move to correct him, “I’m watching, I swear.”

“You’re really not,” He paused the movie and turned to face you, his hand resting on your hip, pulling you just a little closer, “What’s your favorite movie then, and why are we not watching it?”

You laughed, glancing at him, half-cocked in mock exasperation, “You know that my favourite movie is Tangled, but we’ve already watched it this week. We’re not doing that again.”

He narrowed his eyes, “We could watch it again. I wouldn’t mind seeing you quote all the lines before the characters do.”

You raised an eyebrow, “Are you implying that I’m predictable?”

“No,” He replied, grinning wider now, “I’m saying you’re adorable.”

You felt a warmth spread through your chest at his words, and without thinking, you moved closer, your lips brushing lightly against his. It’s a soft, quick kiss, the kind that doesn’t need words. Just the closeness, the quiet moment between two people who’ve found their way to each other and are content in this simple intimacy.

He pulled away just barely, his smile never fading, “You know, I’ve been thinking…”

“Uh-oh. That’s never good,” You teased before you laughed.

“Very funny,” He deadpanned, “No, seriously. I think I’m falling for you all over again.”

Your stomach did a few flips in your gut, “What do you mean ‘all over again’?”

He chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, “I mean, I’ve been in love with you since high school, but somehow, even though we’re finally together, every day with you feels like the first time I’m falling for you all over again.”

You smiled softly. “You’re really something, you know that?”

“I try,” He said before a sudden burst of confidence he added, “But seriously, I’m falling in love with you every single day, whether you notice it or not.”

You laughed softly, leaning your head on his shoulder, “I think I notice. In every little thing you do.”

Luke pressed play on his movie, his fingers skimming your sides but he could feel your gaze on him,

“You’re staring at me,” He told you, not even looking up away from his screen. He doesn’t need to, he knows you too well. 

“I’m not staring,” You replied, trying to hide your smile, “I’m just… admiring.”

His eyes flickered down to meet yours, “Admiring what, exactly?”

“You,” You said with your voice quieter now, “Everything about you and how easy it is to love you.”

His expression softened and for a moment, he looked a little caught off guard. But then the corner of his mouth curls up in that signature crooked grin, “You’re gonna make me blush,” He teased, though there’s a glint of emotion in his eyes that you don’t miss.

“I’m just being honest.”

“I like when you’re honest,” He mumbled, “You’re the only one who really gets me. And it feels like you always have.”

You stared at him, taking in his curls that were once blonde fall over his forehead, his blue eyes that felt like home to you.

“God, I’m so in love with you,” He whispered and in this moment, with him holding you close, you know that love is made of the smallest, sweetest things.

₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

You’ve never seen Luke look so relaxed.

One hand is loosely resting on the steering wheel, the other draped over the center console, fingers gently tangled with yours. The road stretched ahead in long, lazy lines of sun-drenched pavement, the kind of empty two-lane highway that hums like summer itself. His truck windows are rolled down, the breeze warm against your skin, carrying the scent of pine and wildflowers.

Your feet are tucked up on the seat, his hoodie wrapped around you despite the heat. You’re not cold, you just like how it smells like him. His cologne, the faint trace of detergent, the lingering scent of the rink, even now.

“You know we still have two more hours of this, right?” He said as he glanced over at you with that slow grin that made your stomach flip in the best way, “You’re gonna be sick of me before we even get to the lake house”

You scoffed, leaning your head against the window, still holding his hand, “Impossible. I have life long experience with putting up with you.”

“Putting up with me?” He faked offense, “I’ll have you know I’m a delight.”

“You snore.”

“You drool.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “That’s a low blow.”

He squeezed your hand gently, “Just keeping us humble.”

You laughed as you settled deeper into the seat. The playlist you made together is shuffling through songs, some throwbacks from high school, some new favourites, and a handful that make both of you smile because they only make sense to the two of you. You hummed along to one of them, and Luke started to tap the steering wheel in rhythm, occasionally stealing glances at you like he can’t believe you’re real.

It’s been three months since you got together, even though it has felt so much longer. Since that night under the flickering streetlight outside the Yost, where he finally told you he was yours. And somehow, things haven’t just stayed good. They’ve grown. You’ve grown together. The rhythm you’ve fallen into felt easy now, almost natural. Like every version of your friendship would always just lead to this.

“So,” You started, glancing sideways at him, “You think the Mothers are going to be weird about us sharing a room?”

He raised a brow, “Jim let me start using the truck when I was sixteen. I think they trust us.”

You smirked, “They shouldn’t.”

He laughed with his tone being deep and genuine, the kind of sound that makes your chest feel lighter,  “You’re a menace.”

“I’m your menace,” You replied.

That shuts him up in the best way. His smile lingered but his eyes softened, and his hand tightened around yours again. You don’t need him to say it, you could feel it.

The miles roll on like memories stitched together, stopping for gas at some random station with sticky floors and surprisingly good coffee, singing loudly and terribly to the songs on your playlists, and debates on whether hot dogs count as sandwiches. He tried to distract you each time you attempted to read the GPS on his phone, and you retaliated by playfully swatting his exploring hands away. At one point on the drive, he pulled over on a scenic overlook just so he could kiss you under the blue summer sky.

Eventually, the trees start to thicken, the air shifting from sun-warmed highways to something cooler, quieter. The lake isn’t in sight yet, but you can feel it and smell it in the pine needles and the earthy scent of the woods. It feels like the world is exhaling, and you’re part of that breath.

You looked over at him again, and for a moment, you didn't say anything. You just look. He has a faint sunburn along the bridge of his nose. His curls are messy from the wind but tucked away under his cap that he always wore. His t-shirt fitted his muscular chest and arms deliciously, and his mouth was curved in a quiet, content line. He looks so perfectly Luke.

“What?” He asked as he glanced at you.

You shook your head, “Nothing. Just… happy.”

His thumb brushes over your knuckles, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Luke doesn’t look away, “Me too.”

There’s a long, warm silence that follows, the full and comfortable kind that only exists between people who know each other’s rhythms down to the pause between words. You reached over and pressed a kiss to his shoulder, then rested your head there, letting the hum of the road and the quiet promise in his voice settled around you like a blanket.

Luke’s truck rolled slowly up the winding driveway, tires crunching over the familiar gravel path that leads to the lake house tucked deep in the woods of northern Michigan. The air smells like pine needles and sun-warmed water, like every summer memory you’ve ever had stitched into one quiet, golden moment.

You spotted the house just beyond the clearing, same soft blue siding, same sagging porch swing, same wind chimes dancing in the window. But today, everything feels more alive, because this time, you’re showing up not just as his childhood best friend.

This time, you’re coming as his girlfriend.

And both your families already know it, they saw the pictures you had posted on your Instagram.

The truck came to a gentle stop, and Luke killed the engine. He glanced sideways at you with that half-crooked grin that still makes your stomach flutter.

“You ready?” He asked you softly.

You nodded, “Are you?”

He exhaled, then smiled wider, “Yeah. Kind of feels like the end of one story and the start of the one we were always meant to be in.”

Before either of you can open your doors, the front screen door slammed open with a bang.

“They’re here!” Ellen called out with her voice familiar, warm, and joyful.

She’s already moving across the porch with her arms wide, your mom just a few steps behind her, equally glowing.

“My girl!” Ellen beamed as she pulled you into a tight hug that smells like lilacs and lemon and like the childhood you’ve known, “You finally made it.”

“You act like I haven’t been here every year since I was five,” You laughed, burying your face in her shoulder.

“But this is the first time you’re showing up with my Lukey’s hand in yours,” She whispered, pulling back just enough to look at you, “It’s about time, sweetheart.”

“I’m not crying,” Mandy said behind Ellen, “I’m just so happy.”

You turned to hug her too, both of you laughing through the swell of emotion.

Jim and Steven come down the steps next, grinning like they’ve already had money on this (which all the parents did). They shook Luke’s hand, clapped him on the back, and pulled you both into what can only be described as a team huddle.

“Welcome back, Bear,” Jim said to you, “Your room’s still upstairs unless, of course, you two are bunking together now?”

“Dad!” Luke choked out which made everyone laugh at his bright red cheeks and ears.

“Don’t worry,” Your dad added, “We all knew this was coming. Your mothers started planning your wedding back in grade ten.”

You groaned and hid your face in Luke’s shoulder while he muttered, “We should’ve eloped.”

The door bursted open yet again and Luke’s brothers came storming out, both already shirtless and halfway through their beers.

“Look who finally figured it out!” Jack yelled, arms wide as he pulled you into a hug.

Quinn fist bumped Luke and then pulled you into a hug, “Happy for you guys.”

“Seriously,” Jack grinned, “The entire family knew this was coming before you two did.”

You glanced at Luke, who was just standing there, hand in yours, cheeks still flushed, watching everyone welcome you like they always have, but now with a tinge of celebration. Because this has always been the hope. The quiet, patient maybe someday that lived in the hearts of everyone who watched the two of you grow up side by side.

By the time the sun was low on the lake and dinner’s sizzling on the grill, you were barefoot on the back deck with a glass of lemonade in one hand and Luke’s fingers loosely twined through your other. Both families are mixed around the kitchen and patio, all joking, retelling old stories, stealing glances at the two of you that are so full of affection it almost knocked the air out of your lungs.

Later, when the stars came out and the lake smoothed over like glass, you and Luke sneaked away down to the dock. The same dock you’ve both jumped off a thousand times as kids. The same one where, last summer before the two of you moved to UMich, he nearly told you how he felt before backing out.

He sat beside you with an arm around your shoulders, the night humming soft and easy.

“Feels like this was always waiting,” He said quietly, pressing a kiss to your temple.

You nodded while resting your head against him, “Feels like home.”

And from the porch behind the two of you, your parents and his, laughing over glasses of wine, watching the stars and admiring how the two of you sat on the dock together, they always knew the ending.

₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

The atmosphere is electric. The crowd’s energy is a living thing, a pulsing mass of anticipation, and you can hardly believe you're standing here. The sound of the crowd, the flashing lights, the energy in the arena, it’s all so much bigger than you imagined. It’s real, and you’re here for it. For Luke.

It’s his first game in the NHL, and you’ve never been more proud of him. The guy you’ve known since birth, who had always dreamed of this moment, was finally living it. You still couldn’t quite wrap your mind around it. Luke, in the big leagues even though Jack and Quinn were already in the NHL. It felt like only yesterday you were with him as he practiced on the ice in his backyard with Quinn and Jack, where they were dreaming of this exact moment.

Your heart beated faster as you glance around the arena of the Prudential Center, the excitement practically buzzing through the air. The rink is perfectly lit, the ice shining beneath the lights, the players skating in warm-ups as the crowd cheers, eager to see the first puck drop.

You spotted Luke on the ice, skating effortlessly, with his new red jersey rather than the maize coloured one that you grew used to. His number, forty-three, stood out proudly on his back. You couldn’t help but smile, a deep sense of pride swelling inside you.

“You okay?” Ellen asked you, giving you a nudge as she watched you watch him.

You blinked and laughed softly, still a little in awe of the scene, “Yeah, just trying to believe this is real.”

She grinned, “I bet, he looks like he’s in his element.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so focused,” You admitted with your eyes never leaving him. There’s something about seeing him out there, doing what he’s always loved, that makes you feel like your chest might burst with pride, “He’s been working his whole life for this.”

“I bet it’s a little surreal for you, huh? Seeing him in the NHL after everything you’ve been through?”

You glanced at her, trying to find the right words, but all you could do was nod. It is surreal. But there’s also something comforting about it. This is Luke. The same person who used to steal your snacks and drag you into late-night study sessions. Now he’s here, in the NHL, and he’s still your Luke.

Before you can say anything more, the arena erupted into cheers, signaling the start of the game. The lights dimmed, and the announcer’s voice rings through the speakers, introducing the teams. You stand at the edge of your seat, trying to steady your breathing as the players line up. Your stomach flips with nerves on his behalf.

“Number forty-three, Luuuuuke Hughes!” The announcer called out, and the roar of the crowd was deafening.

Your heart skipped a beat, your hands instinctively clasping together as you cheered with everyone else. Luke skated onto the ice, looking confident in his gear, but his eyes were searching the crowd. And when he found you, your heart stopped.

He gives you a small, almost imperceptible smile, his eyes locking with yours across the rink. In that instant, the whole arena fades away, and it’s just the two of you. He’s here, doing what he loves, and you’re here, cheering him on like you always promised you would.

You couldn’t help the overwhelming wave of emotion that crashed over you. This is his dream, and you’re living it with him.

The game begins, and the action is intense. The sound of skates carving across the ice, the thud of sticks on the puck, the roar of the crowd, it’s all part of the symphony of professional hockey, and you’re right in the middle of it. The energy in the arena is electric, and yet, you find yourself focused solely on Luke.

Every time he touches the puck, your heart sped up. Every time he makes a good play, you can’t help but cheer louder. And every time he glances over to where you’re sitting, a little smile creeping onto his face, you feel a warmth spread through your chest, a reminder that no matter how far he’s come, he’s still your Luke.

It’s nearing the third period, and the game is close. The tension could be cut with a knife, and you’re on the edge of your seat. The Devils are ahead by one goal, but the other team is pushing hard. You can see the sweat on his forehead as he skated up the ice, determination in his eyes. He’s everywhere on the rink, fast, sharp, and focused. He’s in his element, and it’s breathtaking.

And then, with a swift pass, the puck lands right on Luke’s stick. There’s a fraction of a second where everything feels suspended. Time slowed down, and all you could do was watch him. You knew he’s about to make something happen. You knew he’s about to score.

The crowd goes silent in that split second. Then, as if on cue, Luke releases the puck with a clean shot, sending it sailing past the goalie and into the back of the net. The arena exploded in cheers.

You jump out of your seat, your hands clapping and your throat screaming with excitement. The announcer’s voice echoes through the speakers, “Goal by number forty-three, Luke Hughes!”

You watched as Luke skated back to his teammates, his eyes searching for you again. When he sees you, he gives a small wave, his smile widening. It’s like he’s found you in the chaos of the game, and that makes your heart swelled with happiness.

The game ended with the New Jersey Devils winning, and the crowd was on their feet, applauding the team’s victory. You feel like you’re floating, the adrenaline from the game mixing with the joy of seeing Luke’s hard work come to life.

After the game, you managed to get down to the lower level, waiting for him just outside the locker room. You’re still buzzing with excitement when the door swings open, and there he was sweaty, tired, and but grinning from ear to ear.

He spotted you almost immediately and, ignoring the stream of reporters and fans, made his way toward you.

“You were amazing,” You breathed out, your voice catching in your throat as you took him in.

“Couldn’t have done it without you here,” He told you as he pulled you into a hug, his arms strong around you as he lifted you off the ground in a moment of pure joy, “You know how much this means to me, right?”

You nodded against his chest, not trusting yourself to speak for a moment. His success was your success. This victory isn’t just his, it was yours too. The years of support, the quiet moments, the late-night phone calls. You had been with him every step of the way, and now, you get to see him standing here, living his dream.

Finally, you pulled back to look at him, grinning up at him through happy tears. “I’m so proud of you.”

Luke’s eyes softened, and he brushed a strand of hair out of your face, “You’ve always believed in me.”

“Of course I have,” You said with your voice thick with emotion, “And I always will.”

He leaned down, kissing you softly, the taste of victory still fresh on his lips. In this moment, with the roar of the crowd still echoing in your ears and the world around you seemingly quiet, this was exactly what you waited for in life and Luke Hughes was yours truly.

[hoshigray]

Hiiii, I have a request- could you do like jealous or after arguement smex- you can pick any sort of of storyline or any jjk character. (prefferbly a character like sukuna or toji because i feel like they'd be kind mean about it)

Tyy

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: oof, i think after an argument, sex w/kuna would go crazyyy (esp true form! like yikes)

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: true form! Sukuna x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - size difference - fingering (f! receiving) - impact play (spanking + pussy slaps) - clitoral play (grinds, swipes, and pinches) - biting - pinching - degradation (bitch, whore) - monster-fucking (he got 2 dicks) - double penetration; anal and vaginal - backshots/doggy position - pet names ([little]dove, my wife, pet, woman) - multiple orgasms - mention of drool/spit and blood.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.3k

You dare avoid him? The King of Curses? Did the screws in your brain finally come loose, and now you’ve gone mad?

Ryōmen Sukuna rarely lets things slide. He is considered the top dog of the cursed Jujutsu world – he doesn’t find himself bowing down to things because things are supposed to bow to him. Anything and everything doesn’t go unnoticed under his gaze, as that’s the order of things that are supposed to happen.

And this philosophy doesn’t stop with you — his little dove.

Being engaged to a human spouse already raises flags of inconsistency. It isn’t rare for you and Sukuna to argue; the workers of the fortress where you reside can attest to this. The love is there, but Sukuna expects you to understand your standing in this marriage. You may be what he always keeps by his side. However, even you shouldn’t overstep him so carelessly.

Nonetheless, your humanness continues to poke him; your resilience is a thorn to your giant husband’s side. The more disagreements you clash with him, the bolder you’ve become in your standing, which makes the cursed man proud, albeit prefers it wasn’t directed towards him. 

And now, after he puts his thunderous foot down and shuts you up with your bickering, you decide to be courageous enough to turn your back on him? Him? Your betrothed? He couldn’t believe what he saw; your expression molded to neutrality before you turned on your heel and headed somewhere away from him. And then you don’t respond when he calls out to you — the absolute nerve.

Oh, you knew Sukuna wasn’t the one to be daring with, especially when you think you can get the last laugh. So, it would be best if he corrected your foolishness. 

“—Dahhh! Su’kunaa, stop! Let go—Ohhh!”

“Shut your mouth. Think you’re in any position to order me now, huh?”

He has you pinned to the tatami flooring, his upper hand on your head to keep your cheek printed on the mat despite your cries. The upper right hand has a good hold on your waist while his lower right hand grips your ankle to keep your legs spread. And with the lower left, he uses it to tease and toy with your chasm. The mouth of his chasm laps around your labia to lick the fluids that coat your slit while his middle and ring fingers grind on your sore clitoris.

This is your punishment: your husband reprimanding you as he gesticulates around your body. You can cry and holler all you want, squirm out of his hold when knowing your efforts are futile. He doesn’t care because he knows that he will make this point to you no matter what.

The tongue of his palm easily swallows your essence, pushing the muscle into your cunt to fuck you. You nearly choke on spit, sensing the considerable muscle swirl around your insides and graze your walls. “Mmph! Oh, fuck—Nnnm! Sukuna, no! I just came seconds ag—Oooh!”

“Do I care?” He raises his sole pink brow, four red eyes scanning your figure, writhing because of his touch. “You will cum however many times I say, my wife.” He draws out the last words to your ear, enjoying how small you appear under his massive shape. 

He lives for your shrieks, your pitch going higher and higher with every flick of his tongue. Swiping your clit makes it harder to maintain balance, your resolve slipping through your fingers with every push and pull of the abnormal tongue.

“Hahhh, ahhhshit, shiiiit,” your eyebrows scrunch together, nails purchasing on the tatami mat beneath you, which you’re sure your scratches would cause damage. Again, not that your jerk of a spouse would care; he is probably getting a kick out of you losing your poise because of him. “Ooh, ‘Kunaa, y’re going too fast…Nnnn !”

“Oh? Does the dove think I’m going too fast?” Sukuna licks the helix of your ear tantalizingly slow, and you gasp when he bites it while the mouth of his palm sloppily kisses the entrance of your vagina. “You wish to cum again, woman?”

You nod hurriedly, his chuckle rumbling to the core of your heart. The hand on your waist comes up to smack your ass, denting the skin by piercing his fingertips. You howl in pain, “Yesss, I wanna cum again!” 

“Hmph, no,” he removes his hand from your throbbing folds before slapping it; the abrupt action erupts a choked sob. Screams fly out at the pinch of his fingers on your delicate bud; the pain from your chasm stings, making your head pound. “You’re not some whore who gets to cum when they want; you’re mine, and cumming without my permission will get you into predicaments worse than this. Are we clear, pet?”

You had no choice in the matter, propping your ass up and your face down, forcing you to take his two cocks with both of your holes. 

“Aiishhh, oh Lord, Shhlow down! I’m t’oo full…!” 

“Mmnn, khheh, I bet you are, grippin’ on my cocks like a real bitch in heat…”

His lower hands keep hold of your hips, keeping you glued to his pelvis as he pistons his fat dicks into your ass and vagina. The tip brushes on your inner walls, and you mewl at every push as the girth stretches your caves. His upper hands keep you held down to the floor, submitting you to his robust stature that easily swallows your small frame.

Your face is still on the floor, drool trickling down your lips as ineligible babbles seep out. “Nnmahh, ahhaa…!” God, he puts so much strength on your poor body; the inability to move or move away from him keeps you immovable for him. 

Sukuna’s pace is unforgiving, propelling himself into your leaky wetness with no remorse. The fact that he has you come two times already doesn’t concern him; if anything, it aids him in pushing to and fro from your tight cunt. He bites his lip from how your rear contracts around him—so snug for his dual limbs as if you’d milk him dry.

“Fsshoo, ohhmy Go—Daah!” A hand finds its way to the left wrist on your shoulder. “Ohh, ‘Kunaa!”

Your wails are broken when he bends down; the added weight is so lethal that you might end up being pressed and being one with the tatami mat. “Hmm? What is it, woman?”

“—Ahhck! Fuuuhuck, pleaseee, can I pwease cu–Uhhmm?!”

You make him snicker, pulling back his rhythm to implement slow yet harsh ruts to your openings while throwing a slap to your asscheek. “Why should I let you?” 

A tear rolls down your hot cheek. “Pleasee, forg’ve me! I shouldn’t have…turned my back on you...”

Crimson eyes narrow while observing the way your ass quakes from his powerful pounds. Sukuna then comes to your shoulder to bite on your shoulder, and of course, you yelp bitterly. The sight of his canines drawing blood from his mark dials his excitement. “Say it properly, pet,” he purrs as he licks the wound on your shoulder.

“Mmmm! Suk’naa, my Lord…”

“Hmm?” He cups and squeezes your cheeks with his upper left for access to kiss your neck, and the lower left snakes down to play with your clit again. You gasp from the sensation of the tongue of his stomach licking your back, the colossal muscle having you arch like a cat.

Rubs on your pearl have you squeaking for him and eyes rolling upward— all desperate and aching for your release that you could break any moment. “Forgive me for stepping out of line...Hooooh, I wanna cum on yer cocks,” you admit while swaying your hips. “Please allow me to cum.”

“Depends,” you gulp at his quick answer. “This will be your only kind warning for this; if you dare do it again, don’t ever think of asking me.” Sukuna licks your cheek before he chews on the flesh, your breath halting at the graze of his fangs. “Understand?”

Your brave side takes over to turn to him meekly, watery eyes meeting his fierce red ones – a good move on your part. “Yess, my husband…”

And he sneers. “There you go, little dove.”

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header edit done by me + dividers by @/benkeibear.