#what's up with the gaping hole in his chest? Who knows! Not me! But it looks cool

[cosmicraelum]

Some concept work of my OC Oz!

[lovegasmic]

⋆ PERIOD SEX WITH SUKUNA.

꒰ request : your period starts in the middle of the action and Sukuna decides to fuck you dumber ꒱

 ★  mdni. f!reader x real form Sukuna who does not know what a period is ◞ dumbification ◞ he talks about you going stupid on his cock but it's affectionately and with lots of praising ⋆ taglist .

“that’s my pretty girl, taking me so good in your tight little pussy, hm, yes, that’s perfect sweetheart keep tightening up” a cute little squeaky sound bubbles up from your chest, practically swimming in pleasure at the praising of your boyfriend and the way his bulbous tip glides across your needy walls.

a small gush of slick comes out of your filled hole, not paying much attention to it as you’re way too horny and soaked, dripping down to the sheet below, “oh, fuck, that’s so hot” Sukuna praises at the added lubrication around his cock, causing for a splurting sound to come from where he forces his length a bit deeper, squishing his balls against your spread folds, “you’re so wet, so ho—”

“Sukuna...?” you ask, still panting and concerned as he suddenly stopped, a very uncharacteristic thing since your boyfriend loved to push you past your limits.

one, two seconds pass, “you’re bleeding” he utters with a very stoic face, eyes glued to your cunt.

“huh?”

“i wasn’t too rough, why are you bleeding? did your pussy get tighter?”

a slap lands on his shoulder, and he doesn’t even flinch, “shut up” instead a deep chuckle comes from his mouth, the pair of hands on your thighs spreading you wide in a second, “hey, don’t!”

a bit uncomfortable since you wanted to look at the blood Sukuna was referring too, propped up on your elbows until, oh.... that was a cramp, “shit, that’s my period”

“period?” right, your... gigantic curse boyfriend was definitely not aware of what a period was, brutishly raising your legs to eye your gaping and spread pussy around his cock, not an ounce of respect.

“don’t... ugh” it was futile, “yeah, I bleed once a month, it’s a biological thing, it happens because my ovules didn’t get fertilized so they’re ‘useless’ now”

a brow raises in Sukuna’s confused face, finally looking up at you, “so you can’t get pregnant?”

“oh, I can, just not now, the ovulating phase starts later”

“hm, does it hurt?”

“um, not now”

suddenly the once puzzled expression was no longer there, replaced by a smirk, “so, can I keep going?”

“huh? do you want to keep go— hngh?!” words cut and eyes wide, your hands immediately finding purchase on his abdomen, right above the belly tongue lapping your clit, inch by inch of cock sliding inside of you once again.

he’s a bit too enthusiastic, a previous conversation when you had cramps and brushed it by saying it was normal suddenly came to his mind, so that was a period.

hands on your hips, another pair on your butt, squeezing and raising your hips to mercilessly aim for your g-spot, each thrust rough and deep, having your toes curling in no time, “Ku— ah...! haah, fu-uuck, ‘Kuna!” he’s enjoying this, knowing you’re almost in that fertile window, and how needy you get, perhaps through your period is the same, right?

before your eyes get to cross, a hand comes to cup your jaw, “look at you” his voice is deep and full of arousal, “you look so pretty like this, do you like the way i fuck you, sweetheart? the way i’m using your bleeding pussy?”

“ha-hah, d-don’t say that...!” you squeak in embarrassment, yet your gushing pussy clamps down.

he groans, deep and animalistic, “even if you deny it, your cunt is incredibly tight” each word punctuated by a thrust, one that aims so deep, so messily covering your bodies in scarlet red.

suddenly, his hips are pinning you down, grinding against your spread lips like a mounting beast getting off on your pussy, and that’s when your brain shortcuts, gasping for air with heart eyes and crescent shapes on his broad shoulders from where you grip onto.

“that’s it, look at you, so gorgeous without a single thought behind those eyes”

you can’t speak, let alone complain about the constant abuse on the spongy spot that has your eyelashes fluttering so cutely, “i love how stupid you look for me” Sukuna snickers, aware of the constant flutter of your pussy, at the way you clamp down and choke on your saliva, “keep your eyes on me, darling, look at me when you cum, look at me while I make you go stupid on this cock” his words are grunts, hips snapping rougher, deeper into you with his hands keeping you pinned down, forced to take what he gives you, to take every inch of his cock.

and just to add onto the cute expression you’re holding, a string of saliva seeps out, and Sukuna is quick to lick it and shove his tongue down your throat, purposely sucking on your choked scream as you cum all over his cock with eyes crossed and pussy convulsing.

“ah, good girl, that’s my good girl” tongue still teasing your clit through it, just like his mouth swallows your next moans and screams of incoming orgasms.

[coryosbaby]

ꜰᴜᴄᴋᴇᴅ ᴍʏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴜᴘ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴏᴘ !

♡ content warning . dubious consent, mentions of drugging, sex work, breeding kink, cum play, weird usage of condoms, dom! Coryo

You didn’t know how you ended up like this.

Being an escort wasn’t an easy job. There were times when you were completely disgusted at the men who approached you (if not all of them). Coriolanus was supposed to be a normal client— someone that would fuck and go. Even with his ranking, you never suspected that he would… keep you.

You had had a few weird clients— some asked for the most vulgar, filthy things. Some of them followed you around before your boss had told them off.

But none of them have ever took you home.

You usually weren’t this stupid, this hazy minded, but Coriolanus had scooped you up with his wit and his charm and a bottle of something you hadn’t had before the economy went downhill. You had heard of him— of course you had—- the powerful, handsome, and extremely intelligent, Coriolanus Snow. And before you knew it you were being tossed onto his king sized bed and his tongue was scraping against the roof of your open mouth. You didn’t even have time to gape in drunken wonder at his enormous bedroom— all you could think about was the cock gliding in between your legs, meaty and thick and wet. He had become completely bare to you, regardless of your opposing position. You were still clothed in your pink floral dress and your basic cotton panties.

Coriolanus’ lips grazed over your jugular, his tongue nipping at your skin. You had never been this hot for anyone, especially not a client. Your panties were soaking, your clit was throbbing and you needed to cum. What was happening to you?

“Cor…” you tried to slur out, as your eyelashes fluttered.

“I know.”

His voice was incredibly gentle, and his big hands groped your tits through your dress. He lifted up the hem, made sure to expose your panties to him, and groaned. You could feel his precum smear against your thigh as he ground his aching member against you.

“Can’t even say my name, can you?” Coriolanus continues. “I have an idea. You can just call me Coryo. Short enough for your little brain to remember, yeah?”

Coryo. It was a nice name. A perfect name.

You moaned out when you felt the cool air hit the peaks of your puffy and swollen nipples. Coriolanus—Coryo— was peeling your dress off of your body. When the fabric was thrown across the room his mouth latched to one of your nipples. You mewled, hands going up to grasp his blonde curls, your chest very sensitive all of a sudden. You could feel that familiar organ probing at your folds, and— when did he put a condom on? You didn’t know, but relief would’ve coursed through you if you weren’t so aroused that you were practically drooling.

“Want it,” you whined out, scraping his scalp with desperation. “Coryo. Please.”

Huffing out a laugh, he reached down and wrapped his hand around his shaft. He gave it a few tugs, made sure the precum pearled over and made a sticky white stain on the inside of the latex. He used the tip to part your pussy lips and find your hole. He pushed in, slow at first, but your pussy was so wet from whatever he slipped in your cup that it was almost easy. Even with his overwhelming size, your cunt accepted his cock greedily, sucking him inside your tight canal. Coryo groaned, practically going cross eyed at the feeling of your warm, wet pussy.

“Never had a cunt so tight,” he grunted against you. “even with all the men you sell yourself to, you’re still squeezing me like a fucking vice, sweetness.”

Your mouth dropped open, his words making you impossibly hornier. Usually you would be offended by such a vile statement, but his big cock was throbbing and wading through your walls with such precision that it had your legs shaking.

And Coriolanus had this charisma about him— something that made his words even more powerful than most. And after that statement, he just kept talking.

“Oh, Angel. My good, special girl,” his thrusts were impossibly fast now, the plap plap plap of his balls slapping against your sore and raw fucked pussy making you cry. “You’re mine now.”

His. His, his, his. Your fingernails dug into him, his chest touching yours sending tingles all throughout your body, and he kept spewing out dirty innuendos. You never thought being fucked could feel this good. His fingers reached down and rubbed your swollen clit, and it was like magic, the way your pussy spasmed and your orgasm washed over you. Seizing up, you mewled out his name as you came on him.

Coryo was mesmerized by your cunt squeezing him so tightly. Your pretty folds, lips spread out and wet, your hole sucking him in like he was meant to be there, like he was meant to fuck his cum into your womb, it was all so much. No amount of classism could keep him from you. Not after this. District or not, he would make you his gorgeous little wife. He would give you everything, love for you, kill for you. With the thought of this possession towards you, his hips began to stutter. Your eyes were closed, but you were still humping yourself against his awaiting thrusts. His balls drew taught, and he could feel his awaiting cum begin to flood the condom wrapped around his length.

No. No, no, no. This wasn’t right.

Not to Coriolanus. Not now— your pussy needed to be fucked full of his hot cum. You needed to be bred. And he was going to keep you and make sure of it.

Coriolanus watched your fluttering eyelids, the small smile grazing your features as his thrusts slowed. Something primal coursed through him, and he slowly pulled himself out of you. Watching your gaping hole made his cock twitch again, and he used his fingers to slowly twist the condom off of his cock. Full of his cum, he spread your lips with two fingers and turned the latex upside down. His spend dropped out of it and onto your used little hole, and you whimpered out as his cum splashed against your cunt.

“Coryo? What’r you doing?”

“Just getting you nice and wet for me, little bird. Close your eyes.. let me fuck you again.”

And like clockwork, his cock was probing your entrance for a second time— his sticky cum being pushed into your fertile womb by the tip of his pink mushroomed tip, his balls making more seed for your perfect pussy, and he was claiming your spent body with everything he had. <33

[celaenaeiln]

“batman loves his nightwing” this and “batsibs love nightwing that”, what about the batsibs’ friends / team loving nightwing ‼️‼️

YES!!! They love him!

The thing about Dick Grayson is that he has such a unique quality that just draws people in and holds them captive.

Titans (2016) Issue #26

He has a charisma that's intense. People from all walks of life find themselves just constantly looking at him for friendship, advice, love, guidance, and just something that calls them to him.

It's the impact he has on people that's astounding.

Titans (2016) Issue #27

They love him so much and they respect him so much that his absence is like a huge gaping hole in their chest. People feel lost without him because they've come to rely so heavily on him. Gar and Steel literally only joined because Dick asked.

This is something Roy catches on to and is well-aware of. He practically hounds Dick into creating the Outsiders with him.

Outsiders (2003) Issue #1

But you think Roy is the only one to capitalize on Dick's Nightwing effect? Hell no.

Titans East Special

Dick isn't just a person. He's a home. He's the guiding hand and the ship's steer control. He's special to people because he's everything they want him to be. He's their lover, best friend, brother, and partner. Whatever role they're missing in life they find it him him because he makes himself versatile enough to fill whatever they're looking for.

Dark Crisis Issue #1

We say batsibs' teams but he's the whole Justice community's everything. He fills the connections of both Batman's side and Superman's side.

He IS the most well-connected person in the entire community.

Teen Titans (2003) Issue #23

Look at what Kon says -

"Nightwing and Starfire brought wave two. Which is just about everyone whose ever been a Titan. It's a natural thing when Nightwing shows up. None of us are conscious of it, really--but we all look to him for orders. Robin's lucky."

The sheer respect. That Kon has for Nightwing is indomitable. Oh, but you think that's all?

Do you know what the superhero community says about Nightwing? Kon will tell you what they think -

Teen Titans (2003) Issue #33

The Titans (1999) Issue #39

He calls. They answer.

Hero-worship of Nightwing is canonically universal. Renaming this the Nightwing Effect

Epilson

The Titans (1999)

Red Condor

Nightwing (2016) Annual #3

Hutch

Nightwing (2016) Issue #75

Kara

Justice League of America (2006) Issue #49

Supergirl (2005) Issue #3

And sometimes this means more than friendship love but still born out of respect. It's so funny to me how Dick goes around friendzoning people.

Cassie

Even when people don't like what he wants they still do it because they respect him. Because he had an impact on them and they were were moved

Titans (2003) Issue #89

Aquaman, Ollie, John (Green Lantern)

JLA (1997) Issue #121

Kyle Rayner

Even people he's just met are like - this guy's pretty good!

Green Lantern (1990) Issue #81

Coming from a Green Lantern comic!! Not even a Wondergirl, Wonderwoman, Batman, or Nightwing writer. A green lantern!

Speaking of which, when Hal Jordon dies, a list of people are selected to be The Hal Jordon's replacement and guess who it is?

Action Comics (1938) Issue #642

Hal forces his soul back into his body and comes back to life but DC does a "what-if" thing and shows what it would be like if Dick actually became a Green Lantern.

Superman/Batman Issue #60

AND BRUCE'S REACTION!! His most favorite son combined with one of his least favorite people 🤣🤣

Superman/Batman Issue #60

But Bruce's faith in Dick actually elavtes his opinion of Hal.

ALSO!!-

Superman/Batman Issue #61

I JUST KNOW THAT BRUCE WAS WRITHING IN JEALOUSY!!

But anyway, shows to prove that no matter who Dick is and what identity he takes, he will always be the love of the hero community. Because in this world, each member is a combination of the Justice League AND the Titans.

Superman/Batman Issue #60

Yet Dick is still the center of it all.

A literal god

Nightwing (2016) Issue #49

Jon and the hero community

Justice League: Road to Dark Crisis Issue #1

"It would mean a LOT to people if you came and said--" "You're all overreacting." "We need you."

"You're all overreacting." - Clearly, this isn't the first time someone has already come to Dick about being the center of the community.

Not just by the batfam, but for everyone Dick is the most beloved person in the community. That is a fact.

[flowerbunnyboo]

FUCK YOU IN THE BED, YOUR ROOMMATE JERKING OFF PT 2 | back

starring: sunghoon and heeseung x male reader

summary: as your boyfriend was fucking you in your bed, your roommate decides to join the fun <- part 1

nsfw

a/n: short drabble, tysm for requesting this! hope you like it

You don’t know how you had ended up in this situation but here you were sucking on your roommates cock while your boyfriend fucked the shit out of you.

Heeseung grabbed you by your hair and thrusted his cock in. “What a slut! Muffling your moans as Sunghoon fucks you”. Sunghoon smirks hearing Heeseung’s comment

After Sunghoon’s session with you, Heeseung could barely control it as he jerked off discreetly. He got up and came all over you, shocking you and his boyfriend.

Sunghoon invited Heeseung to fuck his boyfriend and they had been going for the entire night.

“Babe your holes are taking our cocks so well”, Sunghoon cooed at your situation as you were just moaning on Heeseung’s cock.

“Let’s switch”

Sunghoon made your bounce on his cock. “FUCKK !”, you groaned as Heeseung also entered his cock inside you gaping your hole with two monster dicks.

“Ffeels~ so-AAH”. Sunghoon chuckled as your could barely talk. He took your fingers and started sucking on them while Heeseung thrusted his cock inside you.

Heeseung had no idea his night would turn like this. He moaned as he felt his release approach. “I’m gonna cum”, he said grabbing your and fucking your hole faster.

Sunghoon nodded and started jerking you off while also slowly thrusting his dick in you. Due to the friction of Heeseung’s cock and your tight hole, Sunghoon too was about to cum.

The three of you moaned liked bitches in heat and came. You shot strings of white cum all over Sunghoon’s chest who licked it off and pulling you into a kiss.

The two tops came all inside you, breeding you like their omega. Heeseung pulled out his limp cock letting all the white cum drip down.

“That felt so fucking good”, you said as you were being kissed by Sunghoon and Heeseung.

“ I think we can do this again”, Heeseung said eating his own cum from your ass. Sunghoon nodded.

You were all excited. “Again as in now ?”

And let’s say you were full of their cum by morning, and the next night. But hey, you ain’t complaining

©️ flowerbunnyboo 2024. all rights reserved to me. please don't copy my work or reshare without my permission and credit

[allthornsnopetals]

We are not Friends D.Bridgerton

Description: A falling out results in a lost friendship, between Y/n and Daphne, due to this, the two have not been friends for some time. But a sticky situation occurs and they are to come back together again. Let's hope the truth comes out, or God help these women.

"Mama!" Daphne cries, clenching the newest Lady Whistledown gossip in hand, pacing the drawing room, breaking closer to tears.

Violet Bridgerton rushes in, barely having a moment to steady herself before Daphne is crashing into her arms, weeping a set of worked up emotions.

"What seems to be the matter?" Violet takes her hand, sitting them both on the sofa, ringing for tea.

"Look!" She shoves the parchment in her chest, sulking in her handkerchief.

Violet's eyes blew open, shock visible on her face. "Oh, no... Anthony!"

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Y/n gasps, her mouth agape, caring not for her breakfast, storming out of her room.

"This has to be some sort of joke."

"Papa! Edger! Look at what Lady Whistledown had published!" She almost screams, running to the drawing room, slamming the parchment down on the breakfast table.

Damon jumps, spilling his tea with Y/n slumping herself on the sofa, visibly hopeless. "Must you be so loud, Y/n." He hisses, taking the paper with a scowl. "Sorry, papa but just read it."

Dearest gentle readers,

It seems, a simple ruse, can stain even the purest fabrics, even a Baudelaire and Bridgerton. Something new has come to this authors attention... Something rather fake, such as a false friendship. It seems, Miss Y/n Baudelaire and Miss Daphne Bridgerton, have never been allies, let alone friends for almost a year. You see, before the season of debutantes and marriage, the close friends had a falling out, one that led to tears, unspoken words and unfortunately an unmendable relationship. If it were me, I would have guessed a man had been involved. They have fooled us all with their plastic grins, gentle tones and 'friendly' banter. All this time behind closed doors, the two ladies loathed each other with a burning passion, all over a man.

Of course, Daphne and Y/n have not been friends for some time, but they both assumed their roles to be well-kept, keeping a distance and only conversing when need be. But that did not fool Lady Whistledown and now everyone in town knew of their broken alliance, leaving a gaping hole in their family relations. You see, both dynasties held a strong relationship, one of favors and marriage. They were like kin to each other, all relying on their relationship, like kings and queens to neighboring nations, for here in London their is always some sort of war among the tons.

"What did you do!" Damon booms, tossing the paper to the floor in a rage.

"Nothing, I swear it, papa. It's blaspheme, lies. Lady whis-"

"Lady Whistledown, is never wrong, child. In this situation, you best hope she is." Damon marches off, rage fuming from his ears.

A long silence fills the air, one thick and angry. Edger, her eldest brother hunches over, squeezing the bridge of his nose, frowning deeply, breathing harshly, clearly angry. Y/n tries to speak, feeling the need to smooth the tension over but nothing comes.

"Don't speak, your words will only upset me," He sighs sharply, legs crossed, trying to calm himself. "I don't want to know what happened but only, how are you going to mend your friendship with Miss Bridgerton." He's staring at her now, eyes calm, body still tense

"What am I going to do? It is but a rumor, Daphne and I are, thick as thieves." She nods, setting herself up with haste, leaving him alone before she suffocates herself on the tension.

What was she to do, indeed? Y/n, had not a clue. Her heart was not yet ready to be fixed, let alone face the girl who had shattered it with her lies. She was done with her but it seems the ton is not.

If she is to face Daphne Birdgerton again, she will have the truth.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Daphne paces the room, sure to burn a hole through the carpet, waiting on Y/n, if she shows up of course. Surely she would, surely she is to care about the reputation of here family. But as the time drew to midnight, the ball soon to end, Daphne began to slowly lose hope.

"My apologies gentlemen, but my dance card is full. Better luck, next event, yes?" Y/n slides past the double doors, closing them with a shaky breath, turning the lock as she enters.

"Where have you been?" Said Daphne, her tone strained and irritated.

Y/n does not answer, pouring herself a glass of bubbles, no doubt a method to pull it together. "My feet do hurt." She flops on the cushioned sofa, past Daphne, near the fire, slipping her feet wear off, tucking her them under herself, getting comfortable.

The library of the host wasn't as large as the Baudelaire Mansion, but it were a library and a private place, certain to keep unwanted eyes and ears away.

"Sit, I do prefer our conversation to be comfortable." She says, lazily waving Daphne over, ignoring her exasperated groan as she sits on the other end of the sofa.

She could see in the corner of her eye, Daphne pouting, legs crossed with her dainty arms folded over her chest. If the circumstances were different, Y/n would tease and even draw a laugh, but they were no longer friends, so the thought of making fun and jokes were nothing but a past-time, forgotten and never to be forged again. Anyways, she's exhausted, feet aching, Y/n was in no mood for banter or going through memory-lane, as if they could.

"Why were you late." Daphne turns to her, stern and still sulking. Y/n laughs, sipping her drink, effortlessly turning her head, staring at her, as if she were a child. "I am to marry before the end of the season, can't do that if no man asks for my hand." She explains, rather plainly as if she were bored.

A sharp pang jabs Daphne's chest. She knew Y/n would stop at nothing, until she had found a Suitor and wed. It's the goal of every young lady present at the party, except hers. Daphne wanted to make her dynasty proud and wed out of love, but she could not do that, if the one she loved stared back at her, wanting not a woman but a man. Oh, how she wished, she were a man, not a woman. Perhaps, she could wed Y/n, run to the countryside and build a family together. But the longer she stares at her, the more doubt she felt, for the eyes that looked at her were filled with bitter anger and unforgiveness.

"I don't want to be your friend anymore, Y/n. I think it's best, that you and I make our separate ways."

Daphne could still recall the pain in her eyes, her smile erased in a few simple words, their long lasting friendship gone in a few moments. Guilt still loomed over her, like a shadow. But she couldn't pretend anymore, her heart became far too great for her to handle, Daphne could not trust herself to be alone with her, afraid she might flip and do something she'll regret. It had to be done, even if the eyes she once found comfort in hated her, wishing her dead.

If only things were different.

Y/n waves a hand in her face. "Hello, did you not hear a single word I said?" Her tone harsh, expression tight and clearly annoyed.

"Yes, of course!"

Y/n laughs humorlessly, visibly unconvinced. "You were spacing out again." She scoffs, setting the empty glass on the small wooden coffee table.

"You always do that! Especially when under hot water! Do you not car-"

Daphne zones out, losing herself in Y/n's visible rage. She were the only woman who could make anger look effortlessly beautiful, even if her words stung, which most of the time they did. But she cared not, for she knew Y/n did not mean what she said, only saying what comes to her mind when overwhelmed with fits of anger. She couldn't help the grin curving her lips, she's been starved of her company for too long, she had missed her yelling, her anger, her imperfections, that made her so perfect. She has missed every part of her, even her most messyest parts.

"What are you grinning at?" Said Y/n, frowning deeply, her tongue laced in poison, readying to kill.

"Nothing," Daphne snorts, clapping a hand over her lips, as if it could stop her uncontrollable chuckles. "Truly, nothing. My apologies, continue."

Y/n stood, furious and exhausted. "If this is how you defend your reputation— my reputation, you can kindly sod off!"

She picked up her skirts, making a b line for the exit. "Wait! You can't walk out there looking like that!" Daphne shields the only way out, blocking Y/n's path, trying her best not to buckle under glare.

"Looking like what."

Daphne swallows thickly, afraid of the wild fire before her: beautiful, stunning, luring, but dangerous and even deadly.

"You look displeased, angry, mad, furious... may I say, beautifully deadly." Daphne squeezes her eyes shut, waiting for another applause of sharpened words, but they never came.

Silence fell, like rain, cooling and even putting out the angry fire. Opening her eyes, she watches Y/n pour herself another drink, this time offering her a glass, eyes soft and gentle.

So that is all it took to calm her. Complements and sweetened words, is all that was needed to extinguish the flame. If only Daphne knew sooner, she could have saved her plenty of burns. Taking their places back on the sofa, Y/n slipping her slippers off once again, finding a comfortable position, they sat awkwardly, no words spoken.

"What I said before was, acting, pretending. We are already doing that, but we have to be closer, and spend a lot more time in public. Form a believable ruse." Y/n went on to explain, shifting in her spot, attention glued to Daphne.

Ruse.

The word made Daphne's stomach stir, making her sick. She did not want to pretend, did not want to act. She wanted her company to be raw, genuine. But she's fairly aware of her shortcomings, she just hoped that she could keep her wandering heart under control. There were many things Daphne wished for, but she will never wish for the falling of another's dynasty because she simply couldn't keep it together.

"Deal?"

"Deal." They shook hands in agreement, unknowingly dooming themselves in an unbreakable contract.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

The spring sun bloomed a great deal of heat and light, the park bustling with noise of joy, celebrating the thaw, signifying the beginning of warmer weather in the ton. Y/n kept safe under the provided shade of her family camp, fanning herself and sipping pink lemonade, doing her best to keep up chatter with another possible Suitor, completely ignoring the second party drawing near her family tent.

"Well, good afternoon Miss Daphne! It has been much time since we last had your company over for tea." Edger curtsied, offering her a chair beside Y/n.

"It has, hasn't it? I have been preoccupied with far too difficult things, I'm sure you'll understand." She grins in thanks, taking a glass of pink lemonade.

"Yes, of course. I'm sure Mr Deluca would be happy to join me and the other gentlemen, elsewhere." He looks between Daphne and Y/n, sending him a silent message.

He nods, leaving a kiss to Y/n's gloved knuckles, curtsying, acknowledging both women in farewell.

Y/n flutters her lashes, grinning as Stephen takes his leave, his gaze still glued to the young lady, incapable of tearing it away, fumbling behind Edger. Once out of view, she turns her attention to Daphne, finding a rather nasty scowl.

"Fix your face, it appears to me that you have sucked a sour lemon." Y/n shifts in her seat, trying to get comfortable, watching her younger brothers: Harwin and Hamish, fly their kites with Hyacinth and Gregory, Daphne's youngest siblings.

She gasps, insulted, hitting Y/n in the shoulder with her fan. "I do not!"

Y/n winches with irritation, hitting Daphne back, acting like children. "Don't hit me, you sour lemon." She chuckles, dodging her attackers next move with a swift stance, ready to run. Without a second thought, she pokes her harshly in the thigh with her fan, making a run for it when Daphne decides to stand, surly for revenge, starting a chase.

Ladies should not run but in this case, Y/n saw it rather fitting to make chase from the woman hot on her tail, she sure were fast for someone rather slow. With the possibility of being physically harmed she couldn't help but laugh, a smile permanently stuck to her face, swiftly sliding past Daphne as she drove forward, fan in hand. Y/n gave a gentle tap with her fan to her behind, watching Daphne gasp, grinning as she shook her head, recollecting herself before continuing with the chase.

"You're going to regret that, Y/n."

With a squeal Y/n ran, dodging and weaving past young and old, even through the Bridgerton tent. "Sorry!" She yells, passing Violet, using her as a shield from her attacker.

"Using my mama, is rather cowardice, don't you think?" Daphne pants, trying to find a way past Violet who stood with a smile, finally happy to see her daughter and dearest friend frolic.

"Not at all, I'm sure your mama is enjoying herself. Aren't you ma'am?"

Violet rolls her eyes, stiff as a board. "Oh, Y/n what's that!" Daphne stills, pointing at something past Y/n's gaze, distracting her.

With her distraction she catches her, holding her in her arms, making it impossible for Y/n to escape. "Cheat!" She cries, laughing and without thinking, embraces Daphne, panting and grinning.

The two held each other, completely out of breath and out of hatred. The Bridgerton and Baudelaire girls back together again, even though it were a false friendship.

"Y/n would you join us for a glass of peach tea and perhaps chat about the season, so far? I see plenty of Suitors have swept to your feet." Violet offered a glass, acknowledging her state of jovial exhaustion.

"Yes, of course, Violet! I do adore your peach tea, I find it the most refreshing." She beams, taking the glass with Daphne's hand intertwined with her own.

Even with the presence of the spring heat, they chat for hours, drawing laughs, terrible jokes and even worse memories. "No, he didn't!" Daphne gasped, squeezing her hand.

"Oh, yes! Violet saw and had to step in. If she didn't I would have smacked him senseless." Y/n explained, high on story telling, completely oblivious or unbothered to her head resting on her shoulder, chuckling at the sudden throw back.

"Oh, yes... He was rather, rude and arrogant. His mother needs to teach him better manners." Violet gave a disapproving shake, sipping her peach tea, the pitcher almost empty.

"The worst part is, the young gentlemen came back! The nerve... And with his mother, no less." Violet tsk's, rolling her eyes.

"His mother!" Daphne chokes on her peach tea.

"Yes! A nasty blob of a woman."

"Mother!" Daphne scolds, Y/n laughing harder than intended.

"Your mother can be quite the... Bear." Y/n mutters, laying her empty glass down on the small white table, holding a silver tray.

"What? Would you have preferred that I do nothing? That witch bore an ugly heart of a boy, with a face of a donkey." She shrugged, pouring her guess another glass.

Y/n whizzed a laugh, Daphne slapping her on the arm, clearly not wanting her to encourage her mothers antics.

"Don't encourage her, she'll never stop." Daphne warns with a playful grins. "My apologies. Violet, next time go for the eyes before the crutch."

Violet chuckled with a wink, Daphne nudging Y/n.

At this time tents were slowly being stored away and the sun began to draw behind the clouds, dipping away for the night. With that, Y/n's lady Maid, Daisy strolled over, fetching the young lady.

"We are to leave in five, Edger wishes everyone to make haste to the carriage." She informs her, bobbing a curtsy, leaving faster than she came.

"Right, well the tea has been splendid, thank you Violet," She stands, sweeping her dress clean, bowing in farewell and thanks. "I do wish to spend another day like this, perhaps sooner than later."

"Oh, the thanks is all mine, you truly are missed. Our door is always open to you, if you ever need an escape from your brothers, but I can't promise much relief." She returns her bow, hugging her farewell.

"I'll walk you back." Daphne offers, high on a day filled with someone she missed, even with the sense of a ruse

She took her arm, moving rather slowly, not wanting to let her other half go, just yet.

"Stephen seems smitten with you, like all of your Suitors. He'll make an excellent husband and a great father, if you wed of course. You are to be wed?" Daphne asks, her tone and expression worried, searching for Y/n's gaze.

For a moment, her eyes pooled with fear, something Daphne thought she would never witness, for Y/n was always knowing, always confident and strong. Did she not wish to be wed?

Patting Daphne's arm, Y/n stops, looping her arm free, clearing her throat, her smile genuine to the eyes of a fool but Daphne is no fool, she sees right through her, like one sees through glass. Her smile seemed strained, pained, worried and hurt.

"I do thank you for today, it truly was a treat but I best go now and with haste, don't want to keep Edger waiting, you dare keep him waiting and he's all on you with claws. Hopefully Lady Whistledown buys our little ruse and our families reputation... Will be mended," She pauses, rolling her thumbs over Daphne's gloved hands, comforting and reassuring.

"I am sure you want me gone as much as Eloise, wishes to rid the world of men."

No, I do not want you gone, I want you near, close, incapable of leaving... I want you, as one wants oxygen.

But Daphne could not say that, not to anyone. To harbor affection for a fellow woman is forbidden, wrong, worse compared to her current situation. If Daphne were to bring speech to her hidden affirmation, she could be ruined─ her entire dynasty will be ruined, all because she couldn't stop her stubborn heart for loving this woman, who loathed her most. Would she hate her more, if she were to be honest? Would she kill her or out her if she were to give voice for her love?

Daphne wanted to scream, shout, yell and cry until her throat ran dry. She needs Y/n, like oxygen... Like a bed of roses that craves for water. But she couldn't have her, not in this life... Not in any.

Parting, broke Daphne, as if a weight had landed on her chest, crushing her heart.

"With haste, Daphne!" Eloise calls, her voice booming over the chatter of the bustling park, scaring a flock of birds, that took flight, frightened by the sudden noise, flapping and gobbling their own sounds.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Daphne is not the only person who eyed Y/n, as if she were the main course of the dinner party──"She's beautiful." Said Benedict, sipping his cocktail, eyeing the girl he's been trying to court for the entire season.

Of course, she were beautiful, it's Y/n, beauty came naturally to her and so did Suitors. She had not yet made it to the floor when a swarm of men crowded her, offering her a dance, a drink, a hand and even food. "Of course, she's beautiful, Benedict, only a fool will think otherwise." Said Daphne, gritting her teeth at her brother and the other men swooning for someone she wish were her's.

Y/n, wore her award winning smile, promising a dance to the first few boys, who pooled to her pink jeweled feet. Tonight she bared a rose quartz color dress, her neck donned with a matching gem necklace. Her hair flowed in ringlets, decoder with pink jeweled flowers, drawing back half her mane in a lovely back crown. Her ears, clipped with pink diamonds, rolling out a theme with her outfit. She stuck out.

Half way through the night Daphne had danced, performing that best she could, her gaze constantly shifting to the girl in pink, chatting to a ring off men, containing of lords, viscounts, dukes and even a prince.

She's growing tired at watching them frolic around her, making her laugh, gritting her teeth to dust. If she were a man, she would have courted Lady Y/n, long ago, asking for her hand with the most expensive flowers, gems, jewels and food─she loves her food, the best way to Y/n's heart is always food. Daphne is sure, that if Y/n had a choice between a husband and an infinite supply of her favorite foods, this season would have been short lived, less then a second spent on finding a husband, she'll be with a food child, living her best life.

By the expression on Y/n's face, she is growing exhausted, tired of these men, ready for sleep and perhaps a hearty meal. But the night was not over and the room is becoming far too warm. Fanning herself, Y/n excuses herself, gliding past men and women, young and old, shifting through until she were out, venturing to the fountain, relieved to finally have silence.

"I didn't expect you to leave such handsome men behind. Many looked rather wounded at your departure, I'm sure you shattered a few hearts." The sound of Daphne's voice makes Y/n jump, hand slamming against her chest in fright.

Calming herself, Y/n breaths an exhausted laugh, fanning herself still. She did not expect company, especially not Daphnes.

"Excuse my behavior but you gave me a fright. I was not anticipating your presence, not after Lady Whisledown's latest update." Said Y/n, scooting over, allowing Daphne to sit with her in the lip of the fountain.

"Uh, yes Lady Whistledown's paper, she seems rather impressed with our ruse, she even called us 'two peas in a pod'." The two shared a short laugh, consumed by awkward silence and embarrassing sniffs.

Lady Whistledown seemed pleased with their act, that she published two columns regarding their false friendship, speaking great praise for their public fondness. Thinking their friendship to be mended, fixed and thriving. So, why spend another minute in the same environment, pretending to enjoy their company.

Clearing her throat, Y/n turned her attention to Daphne. "Do you need something?" Her eyes wander, bottom lip stuck between her teeth, waiting for an answer.

Daphne paused, thinking for the best excuse possible. "No, I just wanted to see you... Perhaps offer a stroll around the gardens."

"I don't want to be your friend anymore, Y/n. I think it's best, that you and I make our separate ways."

Y/n scoffs, lowering her gaze to the gravel floor, an irritated grin, spreading across her face. "What are you doing?" She questions, her tone angry and steady, fire blooming under her gaze.

What is Daphne doing, indeed?

She had made it abundantly clear, their friendship meant nothing to her, that she wanted no part with Y/n at all. So, what were she doing, indeed?

Daphne swallowed thickly, guilt pooling in her stomach, knowing what she meant. She could be honest and risk her friendship a second time, or lie, and simply never see Y/n's face again.

"Don't say you don't know what I speak, because you do." Said Y/n, leveling her eyes with Daphne's, killing the slightest light in her eyes. "Must I recall what you said to me... What you never want me to forget. I don't want to be your friend anymore, Y/n. I think it's best, that you and I make our separate ways." Her tone, sharp and mean.

"You lied to me, to yourself. You never thought it best for us to go our separate ways. If you did, you would not be here, you would be happy with Lady Whistledowns latest publish, leaving me be... Like nothing had changed."

Y/n spoke with confidence, anger, bitterness and unforgiveness. But behind her words, something sad, hurt and betrayed lived there. Something Daphne did not miss, hurting herself in the process, shifting her gaze to her hands, wanting to disappear, hating herself for allowing her heart to fall so far.

"Why did you lie?" The crack in her voice, sounded false, fictional, but one glance in her eyes, Daphne was sure her heart shattered. She had missed Daphne, wanting to let her go as quickly as she had come. Heal quickly and move on. But her heart wouldn't allow it, wouldn't allow her to patch and sew herself back up again, until she had the truth.

Daphne's throat ran dry, she didn't know where to start, or even say anything, but her chest ached, she had to tell her. Sucking in a breath, Daphne steadied herself, bracing the threshold.

"I didn't want to let you go. I wanted to keep you, to steal you, to force you to stay and never leave my side... Not even for a man, for a Suitor, or for a husband." Daphne shook her head, laughing at herself. "Frankly, I wish I were a man, for a far different reason than Eloise. I wish I were born with a penis, because my affection for you... They're abnormal, wrong, forbidden... Strangling me, starving me of oxygen." Daphne sniffles, tears clogging her speech, her smile strained and tight.

"I wish to have you as a Suitor wishes to court you. Y/n I never wanted to go our separate ways, but what were I to do! You wish to wed a fine man, but I am a woman... You hate me, you don't feel the slightest affection for me... You'll love, and I'll die." She cries into her palm, body shaking, nose sniffling.

Y/n's mouth fell open, gaping, soundless. She did not expect her own friend to spill her heart out to her, to love her as a husband loved his wife. Y/n was speechless.

"You wish to be a man, for me?" Y/n leans forward, freeing Daphne's hands from her face, staring into her puffy eyes, searching for truth.

Daphne quivers. "Disgusting, for a woman to wish to be a man, so she could be free to love the woman her heart longs for." She chokes, leaning into Y/n's shoulder, her hand guiding her head, cuddling her closer.

Y/n grins, stroking Daphne's hair.

"You say disgusting, I say romantic." She giggles, rolling her thumb over Daphne's arm.

Daphne tilts her head up, gazing up at Y/n, clearly confused.

"What?" Her question barely, audible.

"If you wish to be a man for my heart, why not have it?" Y/n held her chin between her fingers, gently kissing her, sealing her vow.

"You do wish to have my heart?" She asks once a part, allowing Daphne to process the moment.

"Yes! A thousand times yes!" Daphne smiles, snatching another kiss, holding Y/n so very close, their chests embrace each other.

[malertop]

OMG,can you do Peter Parker (Tom Holland) x Male Reader where Peter is fucking himself on a dildo while moaning about Male Reader and then Male Reader caught him (let's say because he just kissed Peter and wanted to see him) and then Peter stop's and pulls out the dildo but his asshole was so sloppy and gaped/wrecked/opened that he couldn't move and then he uses that moment and snatched the male reader, first he gave him a blowjob and then he started to fuck himself on male reader cock,ahd in the end he becomes a mess and his asshole was gaped even more when Male Reader pulls his cock out

Peter Parker x Male Reader

CAUGHT YOU

"Oh, oh shit- ah~" Peter breathed out as he was slowly picking up the pace of fucking himself on his dildo. His thoughts wandered, his mind only thinking about what it would be like if it was Y/N's cock, long and thick, thrusting deep inside of him. He closed his eyes as he started bouncing on it more and more, unable to suppress his needy moans. He couldn't stop himself. He was thrusting the dildo deeper inside of him, moaning from the painful enjoyment as his hole was starting to get bigger and sloppier. "Ugh-Ah Y/N~" Peter moaned again as he continued bouncing himself towards the dildo deeper and deeper, his hands were on his nipples as he was playing with them, just making him moan more and more, god knows how the bed is still okay after his hard and fast bounces from his legs.

"Hey Petey I wanted to te-" Y/N said as he barged through the door,not noticing the moans that left from Peter's mouth until he entered and heart them himself.Peter opened his eyes and seeing someone who he did not expect to see, his boyfriend , the person he is just fantasising is Infront of him and indeed shocked. Peter pulled out the dildo as his hole was gaped opened, his rose revealed and his hole opened as it was very much to add sloppy and wet. "I-" Y/N said with a shocked face as he couldn't say a thing, his eyes were on his boyfriends hole and body. Peter stayed in the bed as he was panting not knowing what to do now.

1 Hour ago:

"Okay so we're here" Y/N said with a smile as he was holding Peter's hands "Thank you for coming with me" Peter said as they both stood Infront of his and aunt May house/apartment "Don't mention it Petey, you know I will always do anything for you!" Peter blushed as Y/N finished his sentence, Y/N and Peter let go of their hands now no longer holding their hands "Okay Petey, love you but I need to go" Y/N said as with a smile again and started to walk out but then he felt a hand stopping him "Wait!" Peter said as he held Y/N's hand "What is it?" Y/N asked with a smile and confused voice "Just...That!" Peter said and put his lips on Y/N's mouth and kissed him, the kiss continued for 2 minutes but then aunt May opened the door "Hey boys-Oh, Sorry!" She said as she entered inside again, giving them privacy as they both let go "Okay..I think now it really is time to go!" Y/N said with with a smile while they both chuckled as they both smiled and looked at each other.

Present:

Peter looked at Y/N and thought that maybe that was finally his moment and he should use it while he can, Peter shot a web on Y/N's chest and snatched male reader towards him, Y/N landed in the bed next to Peter who started to kiss him, he let his tongue inside Y/N's mouth as Y/N didn't expect that, Y/N followed and did the same after 1 minute. Peter put one of his arms on Y/N's face while the other one was on his tight , Peter finally let go of the kiss as he placed his hand on Y/N's place and went straight for the zipper. "W-Wait Pete..you know I am a virgin" Y/N said with a shaky voice as he was still shocked and now nervous from Peter's actions "Well you know..it's time to change that" Peter said with a smirk as he started to unzip Y/N's pants "Wait!" Y/N shout as his cock was now revealed "I knew you were big..but not that big Y/N" Peter said with a smirk as his hands touched Y/N's cock, Y/N cock leaked out pre-cum from Peter's touch which made Peter blush and smirk more and was now more than ready for his next step, he looked at Y/N eye's and put his tongue on his tip which made him leak more pre-cum.

"Ahh-Pete..W-augh~" Y/N moaned as he felt Peter's mouth on his cock, Peter started moving his head up and down, Peter was taking Y/N's cock fully inside his mouth, gagging on his cock as he moved his head up and down but that didn't stop him. Peter had the majority of Y/n's cock in his mouth, sucking him off at a rhythmic pace. His hand was around the base, jerking the other off. Peter only wanted for Y/n to be sent over the edge, so he did his best - adding to the pleasure with his hand in compensation for what he couldn't fit in his mouth. His eyes rolled as he continued to gag on Y/N's cock as Y/N moans didn't stop, Peter stopped at the deepest he could, gagging himself as his eyes rolled again as he could feel Y/N's cock in his throat, Peter let go with the sound of a 'pop' and started panting, breathing for air as he looked at Y/N who was also panting and all red from blushing.

"You know Y/N.." Peter said as he was still breathing for air "for a virgin...you last long" he said with a smirk as he got on top of Y/N "guess we're going the next way, the one I've always wanted.." Peter said with a smirk as he could feel Y/N's cock touching his asshole, he looked at Y/N and said "you will fill so much better Y/N..just let my hole handle it.." with a smirk and entered himself on Y/N's cock "Oh-F-Oh, shit!" he moaned as he felt Y/N's cock inside of him,opening his hole "Pete-Oh my gosh!" Y/N moaned as he felt Peter's walls around his cock. His tight hole was easily starting to open as Peter started sliding even more thanks to his sloppy hole "Fuck Y/N, you're wrecking me!~" Peter said as he finally took Y/N's cock fully inside of him, which made his eyes wide for a second as he gasped , feeling Y/N cock fully inside of him was something he always wanted and now he has it. Peter fastly started fucking himself on Y/N's cock , not giving a second to be wasted as he wanted Y/N to cum inside of him "Fuck Y/N! You're destroying my pussy!~" Peter moaned as he looked at Y/N who couldn't even move as he was all red, blushing from the situation as he sees his nerdy cute adorable strong boyfriend fucking himself on his own cock, losing his virginity. Peter started thrusting himself on Y/N's cock faster which made his eyes roll from the enjoyment "Fuck-Ah, fuuuuuck my boy cunt is getting so wrecked!~" Peter said as he started losing his mind "Pete w-wait I feel like I am going to cum!" "Then cum inside of me Y/N, cum inside my boy pussy and make it a mess!~" Peter said as he was thrusting faster, moaning so much that probably his neighbours could hear him "FUCK MEE Y/N! DESTROY MY CUNT AND FILL ME UP WITH YOUR CUM!~" Peter loudly said with moans "Wai-No Pete..I-i am cumming!~" Y/N said as he finally Y/N came inside of Peter who's eyes rolled as he stopped thrusting "finally..I got your cum inside of me" Peter said with a smile as he pulled out of Y/N's cock, his asshole was gaped even more than before as his rose came out for a second, Peter looked at his hole which was gaped as his rose was out and then slapped it which made the rose go back inside of his gaped asshole, cum falling out of his hole, dripping Y/N's cum out as Peter smirked and looked at Y/N "you destroyed me N/N..and it was so so so good.."

[virgoilluminati]

Jude and Y/N going to a wedding - maybe Jude is her plus one and they're all over them because he's famous and he's just so in love with Y/N that he doesn't notice 🤭❣️

Numero uno

Inspo: Set in the World Class series, y/n's older brother Rowan decides to finally tie the knot with his girlfriend Rosemary. In turn, Y/N invites Jude as her plus one. Little did she know that inviting her boyfriend who almost won the euro's would cause such a stir.

You hated weddings. You hated the formality, the expectations, the grand declarations of love. How could anyone promise to love someone forever when life was so unpredictable, so fragile? People fell out of love, people changed, and worst of all, people died. You had seen it firsthand and the pain it caused.

The memory of Noah, your eldest brother, loomed large in your mind. He had been the glue that held their family together, his laughter and warmth filling every room he entered. But in 2020, a tragic accident had taken him from them, leaving a gaping hole that time could never fully heal. Rowan had been especially close to Noah, and you knew that today, more than ever, he would be feeling that absence acutely.

Yet, this wedding was different. Your older brother Rowan, who had been with his girlfriend Rosemary for as long as you could remember, had finally proposed. Rowan and Rosemary’s relationship had weathered many storms, and their love had only grown stronger. It was a day of joy and celebration, something you couldn’t deny them, despite your own reservations.

You stood in front of the mirror in your hotel room, your hands trembling slightly as you tried to zip up your dress. The gown was a stunning mix of red and black satin, elegant and bold, but the zipper seemed to have a mind of its own. You struggled with it for a moment, your thoughts drifting back to all the times Noah had teased you about your dramatic views on love and marriage. He would have laughed at you today, seeing you all dressed up and ready to support Rowan.

A soft knock on the door pulled you from her reverie. “Y/N, are you okay in there?” Jude’s voice, warm and concerned, came through the door.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you called back, though your voice wavered slightly. “Just having a bit of trouble with this zipper.”

Jude entered the room, his presence instantly calming you. He looked impeccable in his tailored suit, every bit the professional athlete who had just come off an incredible performance at the 2024 Men’s Euros. But here, in this moment, he was just Jude, the man who had captured your heart.

“Let me help,” he offered, moving behind you. His fingers brushed lightly against your bare back as he took hold of the zipper, sending a shiver down your spine. He slowly pulled the zipper upwards, your eyes meeting in the mirror.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered, his voice husky with admiration.

Your breath hitched, a blush creeping up your neck. “Thank you,” you replied softly.

As his fingers lingered on your back, you thought again of Noah. The thought of him brought a pang of sadness that you couldn’t shake.

“Y/N,” Jude’s voice pulled her back to the present. “You okay?”

You nodded, forcing a smile. “Yeah, just… thinking about Noah. He should be here.”

Jude’s eyes softened with understanding. “I know. He would have loved this.” He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “But you’re here, and that’s what matters to Rowan."

You nodded, drawing strength from Jude’s presence. “You’re right. Thank you.”

He smiled, his eyes filled with love. “Always.”

You turned to face him fully, your hands resting on his chest. “You look pretty good yourself,” you teased, your voice trembling slightly.

Jude grinned, his eyes darkening with desire. “Well, I have to look my best if I’m going to keep up with you.”

You shared a brief, passionate kiss, the intensity of your love wrapping around you. When you finally pulled apart, breathless and flushed, you felt a thrill of excitement. Despite the sadness, despite your doubts, this day held a promise of happiness and love.

“We should get downstairs,” you said, though your voice lacked conviction.

Jude stole one more quick kiss. “Yeah, we should,” he agreed, but his eyes told her he was in no rush. You steal one last kiss, before Jude gestures an arm for you to take and you slowly make their way down the stairs.

You and Jude arrived at the wedding reception, a beautifully decorated hall filled with flowers and twinkling lights. The soft murmur of conversations and the clinking of glasses created a warm, celebratory atmosphere. You found a quiet corner near the entrance, waiting for the rest of your family to arrive.

You fidgeted with the strap of your bra, trying to adjust it discreetly. Jude noticed your discomfort and stepped in front of you, shielding you from view.

"Need some help?" he asked softly, his voice filled with concern.

"Just trying to fix this strap," you whispered back, your fingers fumbling with the fabric.

Jude placed his hands gently on your shoulders, his body acting as a shield while you adjusted your strap. He kept glancing down at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of amusement and admiration.

"Is something wrong?" You asked, noticing his intense gaze.

Jude's lips curled into a small smile. "No, nothing's wrong. It's just... you look really hot right now."

Your cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and pleasure. "Thanks," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jude's hand slid from your shoulder to your waist, pulling you closer. "Seriously, you’re making it very hard to focus on anything else," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. His other hand rested briefly on your ass, giving a gentle squeeze before moving away as he heard footsteps approaching.

Your heart raced, the heat between you two intensifying. "Who says you have to?" You whispered back, your fingers curling into his shirt, pulling him even closer.

Jude's eyes darkened, his other hand drifting down to your hip, fingers lightly grazing the fabric of your dress. His lips found your neck, planting soft, teasing kisses along your skin. Your eyes fluttered shut, a soft gasp escaping your lips. His touch was intoxicating, and for a moment, you were lost in your own world.

"You're driving me crazy," Jude whispered against your skin, his voice husky.

Your breath hitched as his hand trailed up your back, lingering at the nape of your neck. "Good," she managed to say, your voice shaking with desire.

Jude pulled back slightly, his eyes locked onto yours, filled with a mix of lust and affection. "If we weren't at your brother's wedding..."

You smiled, your heart pounding in your chest. "I know."

Your moment was intense, the world around you fading as you both focused solely on each other. Jude's thumb brushed against your jawline, his touch sending shivers down your spine. Before you could get further lost in each other, the sound of approaching footsteps and voices broke their intimate bubble. You reluctantly pulled apart, your connection still palpable, and turned to face the incoming relatives.

As you and Jude were still adjusting from your intimate moment, Aunt Karen approached with her warm smile, her eyes flickering with a hint of curiosity. "Y/N, darling! It’s so good to see you!" she exclaimed, pulling you into a hug. Then she turned to Jude, her eyes twinkling with familiarity. "And Jude, always a pleasure. How’s everything going?"

Jude smiled, his gaze locking onto yours, a silent message passing between you two. "Good to see you, Aunt Karen," he replied smoothly, but there was a heat in his eyes that made Your breath catch.

You gave a distracted smile, your attention drifting back to the way Jude’s tuxedo fit him perfectly, accentuating the strong lines of his body. Your heart skipped a beat, the memory of their earlier closeness still tingling on your skin. You could feel the warmth of his touch lingering, and despite the ongoing conversation, all you could think about was how impossibly handsome he looked tonight.

Your Grandma appeared next, her eyes sharp yet affectionate as she took in the sight of you two. "Well, if it isn’t my favorite couple," she said with a teasing lilt in her voice, her gaze lingering on the space between you. "I must say, Jude, you’re looking dashing tonight."

Jude's smile widened, but his hand subtly brushed against You, sending a thrill up her spine. "Thank you. It’s great to see you," he responded, though his attention never fully left you.

Your gaze lingered on Jude, your thoughts clouded with admiration and something deeper, something that made your heart race. Your Grandma’s words barely registered as she continued, “And how was the Euro final? We were all glued to the TV, cheering for you!”

Your Uncle Michael joined the conversation, his face lit up with excitement. "We were screaming the house down! Me and the lads from the pub couldn’t believe it when you scored that winning goal. Everyone was talking about it!”

You shifted uncomfortably. The praise directed at Jude felt overwhelming, especially as your own achievements were being overshadowed. They each forgot the Women’s World Cup again, with the conversation seemingly revolved solely around Jude’s Euro final. You bit your lip, focusing on Jude’s sleek, tailored tux instead of voicing your frustration, but the intensity of your feelings were hard to ignore.

Another relative, Cousin Lisa, chimed in enthusiastically, “Honestly, Jude, you were phenomenal. The whole neighborhood was talking about it. I think they’re still raving about it!”

Jude’s eyes shifted to you, noticing your distant expression. He could sense your discomfort, the subtle tension between you growing as he decided to address it with a hint of humor. “Well, I don’t know. What do you think, Y/N?” he asked, his voice low and teasing as he glanced at you with a playful smirk.

Uncle Michael raised an eyebrow, puzzled. “What would she know? She’s not the one who made it to the final.”

Jude chuckled, his gaze never leaving you. “Actually, I think Y/N has a pretty good perspective. She didn’t just make it to the final—she won the whole Women’s World Cup,” he said, his voice carrying a mix of pride and admiration.

The room fell silent for a moment, and you felt a surge of pride and attraction. The way Jude acknowledged your achievements made your heart race, adding to the growing warmth between you. You glanced up at him, your eyes meeting his with a newfound intensity, the air between you tao crackling with unspoken desire.

"Well, congratulations to both of you," Aunt Karen said, her voice sincere. "You both have so much to be proud of."

You managed a smile, though your attention remained focused on Jude. His presence, the way he spoke up for you, and the genuine admiration in his eyes made your heart swell with affection, and something more—a hunger that you couldn’t quite quell.

As the relatives continued to chat and praise Jude, you found it difficult to pull your gaze away from him. His tuxedo, his confident demeanor, and his unwavering support for you in front of everyone only amplified your attraction to him. It was a reminder of why you were so drawn to him, beyond the accolades and the excitement of the evening.

Amid the chatter, you reached out and took Jude’s hand under the table, your fingers lacing with his. You squeezed it gently, your touch lingering. "Thanks for standing up for me," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

Jude’s eyes softened as he looked at you, his thumb brushing against your hand in a slow, deliberate caress. "Anytime," he replied, his voice low and reassuring, filled with a promise of more.

As you continued to mingle, the focus gradually shifted back to the others, but your thoughts were miles away, lost in the way Jude’s touch made you feel. There was a contentment in knowing that despite the overshadowing praise, you had Jude by your side.

As you and Jude settled into your seats in the church, the soft murmur of guests filled the air, blending with the gentle strains of the prelude music. Your attention was immediately drawn to Isabella, your six-year-old niece, who stood near the front with the other bridesmaids. Isabella, or Bella as the family fondly called her, looked absolutely adorable in her tiny ivory dress, a crown of flowers delicately perched atop her bouncy curls.

Your face lit up as she leaned forward, unable to contain her excitement. “Bella, you look like an absolute princess!” You gushed, your eyes twinkling with pride.

Bella smiled brightly, her cheeks flushing with happiness. She gave a little twirl, letting the layers of her dress float around her. “Thank you, Aunty Y/N! Do you really like it?” she asked, her voice full of hope.

“I love it,” You replied warmly, your smile wide and genuine. “You’re the most beautiful bridesmaid here.”

Jude sat beside you, his eyes soft as he watched the exchange. There was something incredibly heartwarming about the way you interacted with Bella—how you made the little girl feel so special and loved. He could see the natural ease with which you connected with your niece, and it stirred something deep within him.

As Bella giggled and skipped off to join the other bridesmaids, your gaze lingered on her, still glowing with affection. You turned back to Jude, your expression full of warmth. “She’s such a sweetheart, isn’t she?” You said, your voice tinged with pride.

Jude nodded, his eyes never leaving your face. “She really is,” he agreed, but his mind was elsewhere.

Watching you with Bella made Jude think about your future together. He could so clearly imagine you as a mother, holding your own children with the same tenderness you showed Bella. The thought filled him with a deep sense of warmth and anticipation, a quiet longing that he kept to himself. He knew how much you cared for your niece, but he also knew that the idea of starting a family someday made you nervous. It was something you hadn’t really discussed, and Jude didn’t want to push it, especially not now.

Instead, he simply admired you, letting the image of your possible future settle in his heart. You had a way of making people feel cherished, and he knew you would be an incredible mother someday—but that was a conversation for another time.

You noticed the thoughtful look on Jude’s face and gave him a gentle nudge. “What are you thinking about?” You asked, you tone light and curious.

Jude shook off his thoughts, offering her a soft smile. “Just how good you are with Bella,” he said, keeping his voice casual.

Your cheeks flushed slightly, and you laughed softly. “She’s been my little Bella since the day she was born,” you replied, your voice filled with affection.

Jude squeezed your hand gently, his smile lingering as you turned your attention back to the front of the church, where the ceremony was about to begin. He didn’t need to say anything more. For now, he was content to simply be by your side, holding onto the quiet knowledge of what he hoped your future would hold—dreaming of a day when you would be ready to take that next step together.

The ceremony soon began, and You watched as your sister Eden took her place as a bridesmaid, while your brother Elliot stood proudly as Rowan’s best man. The anticipation grew as everyone waited for the bride.

As the music swelled, the doors at the end of the aisle opened, and Rosemary appeared, radiant in her wedding gown. You felt a lump form in your throat as you saw Rowan at the altar, his eyes brimming with tears as he watched his bride walk towards him. The emotion in the room was palpable, and you felt yourself getting choked up.

You couldn’t contain your excitement, smiling and gushing as you watched your brother. You had never seen Rowan so happy, and the joy in his eyes was contagious. Although you wished Noah could be there to witness this moment, your heart swelled with happiness for Rowan.

Little Isabella, the flower girl, walked ahead of Rosemary, carrying a basket of petals. Every few steps, she would delicately sprinkle the flowers along the aisle, her concentration adorable. You couldn’t help but admire Isabella’s dedication to her role, smiling each time the little girl looked up with pride.

Jude noticed the way your eyes lit up, how you seemed to be the embodiment of joy and love in that moment. He was completely besotted with you, watching you as you took in every detail of the ceremony. He knew, without a doubt, that you were the one he wanted to spend his life with.

The officiant began the ceremony, and soon it was time for Rowan and Rosemary to exchange vows. Rosemary took a deep breath and smiled at Rowan.

“Rowan, from the moment Noah introduced us, I knew you were special. I promise to always laugh at your jokes, even the terrible ones. I vow to support you in your dreams and to love you fiercely, no matter what.”

Rowan chuckled, wiping away a tear. “Rosemary, I promise to always let you have the last slice of pizza. I vow to support your dreams and to love you through every adventure, every challenge, and every joy.”

Jude felt his throat tighten, his emotions mirroring the couple’s. As Rowan and Rosemary exchanged their vows, he couldn’t help but imagine standing up there with you one day, saying those same words, making those same promises. The thought made his heart swell with a mixture of hope and longing.

The mention of Noah made your tears spill over, and you rested your head on Jude’s shoulder, finding comfort in his presence. Jude’s eyes were misty too, and he wiped away a tear discreetly, his emotions matching yours. He tightened his grip on you, feeling a surge of protectiveness and love.

As Rowan and Rosemary shared their first kiss as a married couple, the guests erupted into applause. You joined in, your heart full despite the bittersweet memories. You looked up at Jude, who smiled down at you with so much love and understanding that it made you feel incredibly grateful to have him by yiur side.

“It was beautiful, wasn’t it?” Jude whispered, his voice slightly choked with emotion.

You nodded, wiping your tears. “Yeah, it really was.”

You sat there for a moment, soaking in the love and joy that filled the room. Jude’s thoughts wandered to the future, to the possibility of a life with you, filled with moments like this. He couldn’t help but dream of standing at an altar, looking into your eyes, and making vows of his own.

Later that evening, the reception is in full swing. The dance floor is alive with energy, guests mingling and celebrating Rowan and Rosemary’s union. The lights are dimmed, casting a warm, intimate glow over the scene.

You find yourself in the middle of the dance floor, smiling as Jude lifts little Isabella onto his shoulders. Her giggles are infectious as she waves her arms, trying to keep up with the rhythm. You dance alongside your sister Eden, the two of you moving in sync, laughing and twirling.

Isabella’s laughter rings out, her tiny hands clapping in delight. "More, more!" she shouts, and Jude obliges, spinning around and making her squeal with joy. Your heart swells with love as you watch Jude interact with your family. He fits in so perfectly, and it makes you think about what the future might hold for both of you.

You glance around the room, taking in the sight of your loved ones celebrating together. Rowan and Rosemary are glowing with happiness, sharing a private moment at their table. Your parents are dancing nearby, looking as in love as ever. The warmth and joy of the occasion fill you with a sense of peace. God, Noah would've loved this.

The DJ’s voice echoes through the speakers, “Can all couples please make their way to the floor for a slow dance?”

Isabella is gently lifted off Jude’s shoulders and handed over to Eden, who continues to twirl and dance with her. Jude turns to you, extending his hand with a playful bow. "May I have this dance?" he asks, his eyes twinkling with affection.

You giggle and take his hand, allowing him to lead you to the center of the floor. The music slows, and the soft, romantic melody fills the room. Jude’s hands find their way to your waist, pulling you close. You wrap your arms around his neck, and together you sway gently to the rhythm.

As you move together, everything else seems to fade away. The chatter of the guests, the clinking of glasses, and even the music itself become a distant hum. It’s as if time has stopped, leaving just the two of you in your own little world.

You look up at Jude, taking in his appearance. He’s wearing a tailored black tuxedo that fits him perfectly, accentuating his broad shoulders and athletic build. His dark hair is styled neatly, and his deep brown eyes are filled with love and adoration as he gazes down at you. The way the dim light catches his features makes him look even more handsome, if that’s possible.

Jude’s forehead rests against yours, his eyes locking onto yours with a gaze that speaks volumes. His hands move gently up and down your back, sending shivers down your spine. You feel so safe, so cherished in his embrace.

“You know,” Jude murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, “I could get used to this. Dancing with you, being with you. Forever.”

Your heart flutters at his words, your breath catching in your throat. You smile up at him, your eyes misty with emotion. “Me too,” you reply softly. “Me too.”

You lose yourself in his eyes, feeling the world around you blur into insignificance. His touch is gentle yet firm, grounding you in the moment. The way he looks at you makes you feel like the only person in the room, and you know without a doubt that this is where you’re meant to be.

The music envelops you both, the melody weaving a cocoon of intimacy around you. You rest your head on Jude’s shoulder, closing your eyes and savoring the feeling of being held by him. His scent, a mix of cologne and something uniquely him, fills your senses, making you feel even closer to him.

You’re wearing a stunning dress that’s a mix of red and black, the fabric clinging to your curves in all the right places. The intricate lace details add an air of elegance, while the deep red color highlights your features, making your eyes sparkle. Your hair is styled in loose waves, cascading down your back, and your makeup is done to perfection, highlighting your natural beauty.

As the song progresses, you feel Jude’s hand slip down to rest on the small of your back, his fingers tracing light patterns that send a thrill through you. You can feel his heartbeat against your chest, steady and strong, and it matches the rhythm of your own.

You tilt your head up slightly, your lips brushing against his ear. “I love you" you whisper, the words coming straight from your heart.

Jude tightens his hold on you, his lips grazing your temple. “Me too, your my numero uno.” he replies, his voice filled with emotion.

The world around you ceases to exist as you sway together, completely lost in each other. You feel a warmth spread through your chest, a sense of peace and happiness you’ve never known before. Being with Jude feels like home.

As the song comes to an end, Jude leans down, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. It’s a promise, a silent vow of the future you both dream of. When you pull apart, the room comes back into focus, but the magic of the moment lingers.

You glance over to see Rowan and Rosemary sharing a similar moment, their love shining brightly. Your parents are still dancing, your mom resting her head on your dad’s shoulder with a contented smile. Even little Isabella is now nestled in Eden’s arms, looking sleepy but happy.

You feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the love and support surrounding you. And as you look back at Jude, you see the same emotion mirrored in his eyes. He gently brushes a strand of hair from your face, his touch lingering on your cheek.

“Ready for another dance?” he asks, his smile soft and inviting.

You nod, unable to tear your eyes away from him. “Always,” you say, your voice filled with love.

The next song begins, and you lose yourself in Jude’s embrace once more. As you move together, you notice Jude’s expression shifts slightly, a familiar look of deep contemplation crossing his face.

“What is it?” you ask softly, curiosity piqued.

Jude looks slightly startled. “What do you mean?”

“You did that face earlier,” you insist. “What is it you’re not telling me?”

Jude hesitates, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “It’s nothing, really.”

“Jude, tell me!” you press, your eyes searching his.

He sighs softly, pulling you a little closer. “It’s just... when you were with Bella earlier, I couldn’t help but imagine what you’d be like with our kids. And when you were looking at Rosemary during the ceremony, all I could think about was how beautiful you’ll be when we get married.”

You’re taken aback by his honesty, your heart skipping a beat. “Jude...”

He quickly continues, sensing your apprehension. “I know, not now. But I also know that I want it with you. Whenever that is.”

You look into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and love there. It’s a lot to take in, but there’s a comforting certainty in his words. He isn’t pushing, just sharing his dreams, dreams that now feel a little less frightening and a lot more wonderful.

“I... I want that too,” you admit softly, your voice trembling slightly. “Someday.”

Jude smiles, a look of pure adoration on his face. “Then someday it is,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss you again, sealing the promise with a tender touch.

As the music plays on and you continue to dance, the future seems a little clearer, a little brighter. And with Jude by your side, you know that whatever comes, you’ll face it together.

[star-suh]

Gym Bros

Kim Mingyu x Male Reader

cw: size kink, manhandling, unprotected sex, cum swallowing, semi public sex, chest play, nipple play, titjob, facial, implied sweat kink, feminization, yn goes commando, degradation, rimjob (mingyu receiving), gaping hole, impregnation kink, sir kink at the end, implied second round.

an: idk the names of the gym machines so excuse me with that and this is unrealistic.

—

the first time yn went to a gym he immediately made some friends who were more than pleased to help him learn how the machines work and all those things a beginner must know. mingyu was one of them, a big strong guy who dedicated a lot of time to his body, damn it looks like he was sculpted by the gods themselves.

when time passed a certain feeling grew between them, it wasn't love it was something more carnal and lustful. thoughts of mingyu manhandling him crossed on yn's mind meanwhile on mingyu's, he just wanted to rail that little guy into oblivion.

“hey” yn greeted mingyu who responded the same, a quiet sweet “hey”, the awkward silence after that added to the sexual tension growing between them “so what are you going to train today” yn asked with a slight blush covering his cheeks. “today’s chest day” the big guy says proudly. fuck how much yn wanted to grab those pecs and squeeze them as hard as he can.

hours passed and the gym began to be emptied, people returned to their homes except mingyu and yn, the first one somehow convinced the owner of the place to let him continue training saying that he would close it when he left.

yn decided to ask mingyu to help him lift some weight, he agreed.

everything was fine until yn noticed mingyu’s bulge right above his face, unconsciously mingyu was leaning closer and closer towards his partner’s face. yn’s face was red he decided to stop lifting weights and take a break. still in that same position he closed his eyes, his head right between mingyu’s big thighs and then suddenly something hits his face, it was thick, sweaty and it was throbbing..

“i helped you with that, now you help me with this” a cocky smirk on mingyu's godly face. yn just went with it, it was something he was yearning for since day 1 so why would he deny that offer. yn’s head was hanging from the bench so it was easy to mouthfuck him, slowly and little by little mingyu's cock went inside yn's mouth, the latter struggled at taking it all but he did his best to give a lot of pleasure to mingyu.

the dick was going in and out, forming a little bulge on the other's throat, a bulge that mingyu caressed and made him even hornier. yn focused on suppressing his gagging reflexes like a hungry animal he wanted to swallow all of his shaft and feel every single vein on it. “you're acting like a bitch in heat. fuck!! hungry cockslut”.

mingyu pulled his dick, all the thick saliva dripping on yn's face. he tapped his shoulder and said “let's get that pussy to work”, in a swift motion mingyu ripped yn's pants exposing his ass and dick “oh you're one of those who goes commando.. i like that” mingyu slapped his ass causing a shy laugh to come out of the other's mouth.

first thing mingyu did wanted to do is lift some weight while lying down on a weightlifting bench, yn was sitting on his crotch area, his dick already stuffed inside him, every time mingyu pulls two ropes yn will go up and then he will go down when mingyu stops pulling them. in that way mingyu can exercise while fucking the little slut.

next thing mingyu did was to lift more weight while doing squats and every time he goes down his ass meets yn's wet tongue that's ready to taste that delicious sweaty muscle ass…

“i love this fucking pussy, it's so wet and warm.. perfect for my big dick” mingyu groans while pounding strongly causing a recoil on the bottom's ass. “hngh.. more i want more~ please” a cockdrunked yn begged, he wanted to be fucked into oblivion by sich fine gentlemen.

mingyu lay down on one of the benches and let tn ride him. "shit, you're really deep" the bottom mutters while masturbating.

“there you go.. you really know how to milk a dick” mingyu grabbed his ass and started pounding harder “i'm gonna knock you up”, he grunts “this pussy belongs to me and no one more, you get it?”; “yes sir, impregnate me… hng… give me all of your babies” the other replied.

mingyu came inside yn but he didn't stopped, he kept fucking him to ride his high causing all the cum to be spilled down his shaft and everytime he slams himself some drops splashes and land on yn's ass and back. “look at this mess you made” the taller smirks, cum and sweat being smeared in their bodies and the bench, “you wasted all the cum sir, you have to put more inside me to knock me up”; “don't worry we're gonna have a lot of time for that, now give me your cum” mingyu made yn to sit on his torso, put his dick in between his tits and urged him to thrust in between them “this feels so good” yn moans, “you can fuck this tits whenever you want pretty whore”; “yes sir” replied yn almost immediately. yn kept fucking the other's tits while groping and pinching them “these tits are so big and sexy, i feel like i'm gonna cum soo-” he didn't finished his phrase when he spurted ropes of white cum directly at mingyu's face who lick it like it was some sweet stuff.

“that was so hot” yn tries to catch his breath laying on top of mingyu, tracing circles on mingyu’s chest with his finger, “yeah… you really know how to please me” the top smiles and kisses his forehead “let’s go take a shower” he grabbed yn and he put it on his shoulder as if it were a sack and slapped his ass, “what do you think about a second round?”, yn’s dick got immediately hard thinking about it and mingyu felt it poking his arm, once again smirking by thinking how cute yn was.

the bottom then replies “yes sir”.

[stararch4ngelqueen]

Don’t Call Him Jealous

—

Time written-6:10 p.m.

Jason Todd/fem!reader smut (I’m on mobile so image is huge, but c’mon it’s Jason. Take him in)

—

“Look at that, babe,” His hot, erotic rumble roared your heart into an irritating, intense drum in your chest, heating up the tips of your ears.

“It’s crying for me, begging me to have a taste.”

Hungry eyes kept an intense focus on the mirror in front of you both, the hardwood floor pooling with your arousal. He held both your legs junction over his propped up knees, keeping you spread open for his viewing pleasure alone.

Your bare chest heaved with sweat, perky nipples heavily flushed from countless pinches in between his thumbs. Repeated begs for him to slow down to give you an ounce of a break fell on deaf ears, a forearm secured between the valley of your tits, grasping you close as he fucked you with his fingers.

Overstimulation became your toxic lover, sparking you up in pain with the promise of pleasure, quickly following eachother in an endless loop.

Bucking away didn’t help, he’d only hook his fingers against your G-spot harder, forcing your ass back against his hard, girthy cock, swollen and throbbing for pussy behind the prison of his red gym shorts.

You were in a dress, at one point. A dress you kept in its protective plastic hanger for weeks. Now, it laid abandoned, torn and neglected scraps on the ground since the second Jason saw you in it.

What was his main concern about it? “Nothing.”

The fabric was a rich, deep silky blue, caressing your body perfectly in every way. His biggest issue was a certain cocky bastard, who’s signature color just so happens to lay in pieces on the ground.

Yes, he’d get calls and texts from the rest once they realize he failed to attend yet another Gala. Yes, they’d most likely realize that it wasn’t you who had planned to miss it in the first place.

The last thing he wanted was said certain cocky Grayson to make even so much as a thought of a snarky comment on such. Knowing him, he would.

It was all Jason; the man who didn’t bother to think of the tux he was supposed to have picked up from the dry cleaners before coming home from the gym.

All he had on hand was you, working up to your fourth climax in front of your bedroom mirror. A beautiful, erotic mess of smeared lipstick and cloudy mascara tears, moaning endlessly on his fingers before working you open on his cock.

Never catch him thinking he wasn’t a giver. It was his second favorite sport.

“Pretty, pretty,” Jason murmurs against your neck, kissing along your flushed skin. “Pretty, pretty girl. Y’know what I want, huh? Give it to me.”

“C-C-Can’t,” you exhale, both your hands clutching his working forearm, needlessly crying out broken words and drawn out cries as the fire in your tense tummy threatened to burst.

“J-Jay, J-J-Jay, I-I can’t! S’too much!!”

“Come on, babygirl. Don’t be like that, give me what I want. Come on, baby. Come on, come on.”

He urges via lustfully hasty words in your right ear, bucking his fingers deeper and faster into your stretched walls, the palm of his calloused hand directly abusing your swollen, rosy little clit.

Your nails dig deeper into his forearm, deep enough to add onto his collection of angry scars as liquid heat surges through your veins. A collection of trembling cries erupted from your quivering, rouge smeared lips as his palm grew soaked.

He grunts out a pleased groan in tandem with yours, nearly drowned out by your whimpering as if he was the one that came, forcing every nerve in your body to shiver.

“There we go,” Jason cooes, working his fingers until he picks up on those irritated, little overstimulated whines he recognized by memory, telling him to slow down without use of words.

Only, your body didn’t give him what he wanted. Almost, but not yet.

He listened for now, retreating his fingers, lingering about to pry your soaked lips apart, biting back a deep growl at your soaked, gaping pink hole.

Never more than now did he want to stuff you full, but he was working for something a little more… eye catching.

He enjoyed what he saw right now; maroon lipstick smeared off the edges of your lips, transferred onto his the second he kissed you against your mirror. Pink scratches and dabbled love bites that would morph into rich, wine bruises littering your neck and shoulders.

Red, pure red from your blooming cheeks, aroused skin, sore breasts, and abused pussy.

A dirty, surface drenching show only your body could provide, ignited by his favorite hue of color, by any means necessary. So. why stop at four?

Without a word, Jason dips a finger back inside your cavern, feeling your body nearly wince from the intrusion, a low little whine escaping your deflated lungs.

“Jasooon,” you croak, your rising hips instantly jolted back against his lap by a strong grip on your hip, followed by the click of his tongue. “Please—“

“Not done yet, Princess,” he murmurs, kissing along your neck as his other finger joins in, expertly finding your sweet spot and curling his fingers, determined to go for five.

Blue wasn’t a good color on you anyway.

[won4kiss]

── ❝ ꒰ 𝐿𝑂𝑉𝐸 𝐿𝐸𝑇𝑇𝐸𝑅𝑆 .ᐟㅤ ៸៸﹙ 이찬영 ﹚ ᶻ𐰁

GENRE ៸៸ ex bestfriends ៸ oneshot ﹔ SYPNOSIS┆in which you have been receiving anonymous love letters from a secret somebody .ᐟㅤ ꒰ WORD COUNT﹕1918 ꒱── 𝓦ARNING(S) not proofread ៸ stupid anton ៸ teeny tiny angst ៸ cursing ៸ . ݁ ✦ ݁ . ⊱ LIBRARY . . . ﹕LUNA 💭 — anton is my bf (╥﹏╥) ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖

IT’S BEEN FIVE LONG MONTHS SINCE YOUR BEST FRIEND, LEE ANTON CUT YOU OFF.

you still vividly remember the day it happened, replaying it in your mind like an unskippable track.

one day, you were best friends, inseparable through years of shared laughs, secrets, and memories, and the next… he was gone.

no explanation, no warning— just a sudden wall of silence between you that felt as cold and impenetrable as ice.

it stung, the confusion settling in the pit of your stomach like a weight you couldn’t shake off.

the worst part? anton didn’t even look at you anymore—the boy who used to know all your thoughts before you’d even say them, the one you’d spent countless nights laughing with, was suddenly avoiding your existence.

five months of awkward hallway glances, of pretending like you didn’t notice the way he kept his distance, of telling yourself you were fine even though you weren’t.

you tried to move on. tried to focus on school, friends, anything that would take your mind off the gaping hole anton had left behind.

but it was harder than you’d imagined, especially because no one understood what had happened. ─── 𝘔𝘖𝘙𝘌 𝘜𝘕𝘋𝘌𝘙 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘊𝘜𝘛 .ᐟㅤ

not even your closest friends could figure out why anton had ghosted you without so much as a word.

today, though, was different. it was valentine’s day, and the entire school was basically buzzing with excitement.

everywhere you looked, there were students exchanging gifts, blushing as they handed out heart-shaped cards, or walking around with bouquets of flowers.

it was all so annoyingly and sickingly sweet.

and yet, you couldn’t help but be at the center of some of that excitement.

for the past week, you’d been finding love letters and flowers in your locker.

at first, you thought it was some kind of cruel prank from your classmates, but the letters were so thoughtful, so genuine, that they couldn’t be anything but real.

each note was more romantic than the last, speaking about your smile, the way you laughed, how you made everything brighter just by being yourself.

despite the anonymity of it all, the letters made your heart race every time you opened your locker.

the idea that someone had been watching you, admiring you from afar, stirred a confusing mixture of nervousness and anticipation inside you.

you found yourself wondering who it could be, secretly hoping it was someone you liked, someone who could make the fluttering in your chest a reality.

your friends were absolutely living for it, constantly guessing who your secret admirer could be.

“maybe it’s jisung,” one of your friends had suggested. “he’s been looking at you a lot in class lately.”

“or what about yeonjun?” another friend chimed in. “he’s always finding excuses to talk to you.”

you had no idea who it was, but their excitement was contagious, part of you was curious too, and today, the mystery had deepened.

when you reached your locker that morning, there was a note waiting for you again, but this time it was different.

instead of a long confession of admiration, it was short and to the point.

💌﹕meet me on the rooftop after school today, i want to finally tell you everything.

your heart skipped a beat, this was it—whoever had been sending the letters wanted to finally reveal themselves.

you stared at the note, reading it over again to make sure you weren’t imagining things.

a surge of nerves bubbled up inside you—what if it wasn’t someone you were expecting? what if this turned out to be awkward or disappointing?

but even as doubt crept in, you couldn’t deny the curiosity burning inside you.

during lunch, you told your friends about the note, showing them the message.

“i think i’m going to go,” you said, feeling more anxious by the minute.

your friends erupted into excited squeals, exchanging glances.

“oh my god, you have to! this is it, the big reveal!” one of them exclaimed, nudging you with a teasing grin.

amid the laughter and conversation, you noticed something out of the corner of your eye.

anton was sitting a few tables away, and though he was trying to look like he wasn’t paying attention, you could see the way his eyes flickered in your direction every few seconds, his expression tight.

for a moment, you wondered what he was thinking.

why did he care? but you quickly brushed it off—anton had no right to be part of this anymore, not after abandoning you without so much as a word of explanation.

when the last bell rang, you gathered your things and made your way towards the rooftop, your heart pounding in your chest.

every step felt heavy with the weight of anticipation, you didn’t know what you were walking into, but part of you was ready—ready for something new, something exciting.

just as you rounded the corner to the stairwell, a firm but gentle hand grabbed your wrist, pulling you back into a secluded hallway.

your eyes widened in surprise, your heart skipping a beat as you turned to see who had stopped you.

anton.

for the first time in five months, he was standing in front of you, his grip on your wrist gentle— his expression was tense, his eyes scanning your face with an intensity that made your pulse quicken.

“anton?” you whispered, still reeling from the shock. “what are you doing?”

“don’t go to the rooftop,” he said, his voice low and serious.

there was a strange urgency in his tone, as if he were on the verge of saying something incredibly important.

you frowned, confused and frustrated. “what? why not?”

he pulled you closer, his eyes dark and unreadable. “just… trust me. you shouldn’t go.”

you stared at him, your heart pounding even harder now, but for entirely different reasons.

“why do you care?” you demanded, yanking your wrist free from his grip.

“you haven’t spoken to me in months, anton. you haven’t cared about anything i’ve done for five months, and now you’re telling me not to go? who exactly do you think you are?”

he flinched at the bitterness in your voice, but his expression didn’t waver.

“it’s not about that—“

“then what is it about?” you crossed your arms, your frustration boiling over.

“why are you suddenly acting like this? what’s going on?”

anton’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, you thought he might not answer—his silence only frustrated you more.

why was he keeping secrets again? just like when he had cut you off without an explanation.

“please, just tell me,” you said softly, your voice tinged with a hint of hurt. “i don’t understand why you care now.”

finally, after what felt like an eternity, anton let out a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair, his eyes filled with a mix of frustration and something you couldn’t place.

“because,” he started, his voice low and tense, “the person who left that note isn’t who you think it is.”

you blinked, confusion washing over you.

“what do you mean? it’s not the person who’s been sending me the love letters?”

anton shook his head, his expression darkening. “no. someone else is pretending to be me.”

your heart dropped. “pretending to be you? what are you talking about?”

he clenched his fists at his sides, the tension radiating off him in waves.

“i’ve been leaving the love letters. i was the one who wrote all of them. but the note today? the one telling you to meet them on the rooftop? that wasn’t from me. i overheard some guys talking in class. some asshole—he was trying to take credit for my letters..”

you felt like the ground had just shifted beneath you—anton had been the one leaving the love letters? and now someone else was using that to trick you?

“why would they do that?” you asked, your voice small as the realization of what was happening began to sink in.

“i don’t know,” anton said, his voice full of frustration.

“but i couldn’t let you go up there. i didn’t want them to trick you or take credits of the letters i wrote for you... i know how much the letters meant to you.”

your heart softened slightly at his words, but there was still a burning question in the back of your mind.

“but why didn’t you just tell me it was you from the beginning? why all the secrecy, anton? why did you even cut me off in the first place?”

his face tensed at the question, and for a moment, you thought he might avoid answering again.

but then he sighed, his shoulders sagging as if the weight of everything he’d been holding back was finally catching up to him.

“because being around you hurt,” he admitted, his voice soft and raw.

“i was in love with you, and i didn’t know how to deal with it. every time we hung out, it felt like a reminder that i wasn’t good enough, that i’d never have a chance with you. so i cut you off because i thought it would help me move on, but it didn’t. it just made everything worse.”

you stared at him, your heart twisting at the vulnerability in his voice—all this time, the reason he’d disappeared from your life wasn’t because he hated you, but because he cared too much.

you hadn’t seen it before, but now, standing here in this cramped hallway with anton looking at you like he was afraid you might vanish, it all clicked into place.

“i can’t believe you kept this from me for so long,” you whispered, your voice soft but laced with a hint of teasing. “you’re such an idiot.”

before he could respond, you reached up and flicked his forehead lightly, a small smirk tugging at your lips.

“ow!” anton winced, rubbing his forehead. “what was that for?”

“for being an idiot,” you said, shaking your head. “you could’ve just told me.”

he opened his mouth to protest, but you silenced him with a kiss.

it was soft, gentle, and filled with all the words you hadn’t been able to say before.

when you finally pulled away, anton was staring at you, wide-eyed and speechless.

“you…like me?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he couldn’t believe what had just happened.

you rolled your eyes, a smile playing on your lips. “no shit anton—obviously i do.”

for a moment, anton just stood there, looking at you with a mix of disbelief and a stupid grin.

then— a wide smile spread across his face, and without warning, he pulled you into another kiss, this one deeper and more certain.

when you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, but the awkward tension that had once lingered between you was gone.

“so,” you said with a grin, “are you going to keep writing me love letters, or was that just a one-time thing?”

anton chuckled, his eyes sparkling with affection.

“i’ll keep writing them for you, every single day if that’s what you want.”

you laughed, leaning into his chest as you both stood there, the world outside of the janitor’s closet fading away.

everything had changed, but somehow, it felt like it had all fallen perfectly into place.

© won4kiss 2024

𝒯aglist open ‹𝟹 @mioons @nshmuras @suneng @pnghoon @shawnyle @laylasbunbunny @privareum @briefsaladfun @greentulip @cyjzzl @sol3chu @txtlyn @d-dilemma @deezbin @pockyyasii @iluvnikism @wonsprincess @rikibwn @niawonn

៸៸ ❝ PLEASE REBLoG AND LiKE .ᐟㅤ 💌

[atlabeth]

price of dreaming

series masterlist

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader

summary: luke's spiral and the part you play in it.

a/n: this is so sad i'm sorry. like it's just a couple thousand words of luke being sad with a cute little flashback and a percy mention to make it all more sad. i don't know what's wrong with me why did i start writing this series

wc: 4.1k

warning(s): pretty severe angst bc this takes place after hurricane's death and goes up to mid tlt. death ideation, minor descriptions of injuries, luke isn't the best person, just a whole lot of sadness.

Luke returns to camp two weeks after your death, nothing more than a shell of himself.                      

Half of his time was spent sitting in an interrogation room in a Boston police station, mumbling his way through questions he doesn’t know how to answer. It’s not every day that a teenage girl is found nearly ripped apart in the middle of a city with her boyfriend completely broken next to her. Two EMTs had to literally drag him away from you—at least, that’s what they tell Luke. Everything after your heartbeat stopped is a blur for him. He doesn’t really even know how he got to the station.

And that’s how it is for a while. He talks to detectives who don’t believe him, he stares at the wall and wishes you were here, he goes home with your mom. She’s being asked just as many questions, and she refuses to leave him out on the street or take him back to camp. She doesn’t understand that Luke’s done it all before. 

Eventually, the officers settle on a freak animal attack. It didn’t make sense for an animal capable of doing that to be in the city, but mortals see what they want to see. Luke is just thankful to be out of it. 

But he doesn’t know what to do next. There’s a huge gaping hole in his chest and in his life without you, and he doesn’t know how to live without you. Every time Luke closes his eyes he sees your face, and he hasn’t been able to sleep through the night since it happened. He only really manages to stay out when his body practically shuts down from exhaustion. 

Your mom treats Luke like a second son while he’s living with her, and it pains him more than anything. She asks him if he wants to stay with her, try and finish out the semester. He was surprised she still wanted anything to do with him. 

Luke declined. He loved your mom, but being in that apartment without you—walking past your room and knowing you would never be there again, seeing a space you carved out for yourself knowing the most integral part was missing—was just too much for him. The full reality of you being gone still hadn’t sunk in yet. 

He’s soured on the city of Boston as a whole. He’s felt your blood on his hands since the moment it stained his fingers, and for as long as Luke lives he will never forget the look on your mother’s face when she showed up at the police station. 

Your mom offers to drive him back to camp, and though he wants to say no to that as well, he doesn’t. Luke can tell that she needs a distraction, and he doesn’t really know how else he’s gonna get back to camp. They don’t talk very much on the way there, but neither of them burst into tears, so he considers it a victory. 

She parks at the bottom of the hill and hugs him so tightly he can’t breathe, but he welcomes any kind of feeling. 

“Stay safe, Luke,” she says, her hands on his shoulders. “And if you ever need a place to stay—”

“I know,” he interrupts. “And I’ll try.”

She nods a few times, and she blinks back tears as she looks up at him. “Thank you for everything you did for my daughter. For all those years that you kept her safe.”

It clearly wasn’t enough, Luke wants to say. If it was, he wouldn’t have lost you back then, and he wouldn’t have lost you now. But that wouldn’t help anyone, so he nods. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, his throat still dry as a desert. 

“Always.”  

“I know how much you meant to each other,” she says softly. “I’m so sorry, Luke.” 

He holds back his emotions. “So am I.” 

Your mom nods again and they say their goodbyes once more, hugging one last time. When Luke reaches the top of the hill, he looks back to see her still standing there. He wishes he could do something to ease the pain, but he doesn’t even know how to deal with his own. 

Luke stops at Thalia’s tree, and he already feels that lump in his throat. 

“I hope you’re together in Elysium,” he murmurs. “I always thought you would like each other.” 

The beginnings of tears prick the back of his eyes and he clears his throat, shaking his head like it’ll help silence the millions of thoughts scattered around his brain. If Thalia lives on like this, he hopes your spirit is still around somewhere.

“I love you,” he says quietly. “And I’m sorry I failed both of you.”

Nobody at camp knows. How could they? 

Luke wasn’t expected back until the summer, though, so his presence at the top of the hill is telling in of itself. Especially alone. 

He ignores everyone that tries to talk to him and gets to the Big House to break the news to Chiron. Thankfully, when he dissolves into tears, it’s behind closed doors. Chiron takes it in a saddened stride, and Luke wonders how many heroes have died in his lifetime. 

You have no siblings to make a burial shroud, so the Athena cabin takes up the responsibility. Annabeth invites him to take part, but he can hardly stomach the thought. 

It’s beautiful. They emulate the ocean through embroidery and Annabeth even gets a little Red Sox patch in. They let Luke burn it, and he’s amazed he even makes it through the ceremony. But the entire camp shows up, and there isn’t a single dry eye. He hopes you at least know how many people care about you. 

Chris takes over as counselor for the indefinite future, which is probably a good thing when Luke can barely muster the strength to get out of bed most days. He picks at his food when he’s able to make it to meals, and his prayers to Hermes have never felt emptier. He used to do one for Poseidon every so often, especially when you were at school, but the thought makes him sick. His eyes never stop trailing over to Cabin Three’s table. 

The Poseidon cabin is empty again. 

Luke doesn’t fully realize the path he’s taken until he’s standing in the doorway and the scent of salty air hits him. He’s so used to hanging out with you after dinner that he just went there automatically. 

It feels unfinished. It is unfinished. You had a whole box of things back in Boston that you wanted to bring back to camp to decorate. 

Your posters still hang on the walls—Blondie, Pearl Jam, Alanis Morisette. Fairy lights are falling down in the corner, and they’re unplugged. Luke had to remind you to unplug them before you left for the school year. 

You should be standing next to him, smiling and laughing and dragging him in behind you as you rant about capture the flag or the canoe race you definitely didn’t cheat in. He blinks away the tears building in his eyes and he takes a step back. 

You should be here. You’re not. 

(How many more times is he going to end up here chasing ghosts?) 

There are some things a person just can’t get over. 

And that’s how his days go. He barely manages to get out of bed, picks at meals that taste like sand, musters what little strength he has to lead sword lessons, endures pitiful looks and sympathetic speeches. 

Luke gets lost in the past more than he should, oftentimes sitting on the beach talking to you as he watches the waves roll in or sneaking out to the dock in the middle of the night to be in the company of the only person he can stand. 

By the time summer comes back around, Luke is sure of three things. 

He isn’t ever going to be the same again. 

You should still be alive. 

He won’t rest until he’s torn Olympus down brick by brick. 

-

“It’s quiet here,” Luke said.

“That’s what happens when you don’t have any siblings,” you murmured. 

His eyes trailed over to the door and you nudged him with your shoulder. “What do you keep looking over there for? Scared someone’s gonna catch us?” 

He shrugged. “We’re technically not allowed to be in here together.” 

“They can’t say anything,” you said. “We’re both counselors. And no one’s in this place anyways. Besides,” you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips, “we’ve earned all the time in the world.” 

Luke smiled and snaked an arm around you, pulling you closer to him. “You think so?” 

“We lost two years together,” you said, laying your head on his chest. “Far as I’m concerned, no one can say a damn thing to us.” 

“It always feels like we talk about the past,” he said. “What about the future?” 

“All I know is I want you in it,” you mused. You always loved resting on his chest because you could hear his heartbeat, could feel the slight rise and fall from his breathing. It meant he was alive, and after what you’d been through, that was more valuable than anything. 

“Obviously,” Luke said coyly. “I want you in mine too. But what about the details?” 

“We gotta finish high school first,” you said. “Have you thought about what I said?” 

“...Yeah,” he nodded. “It’s just been a while since I’ve left camp. Going back to school seems rough for someone who hasn’t been in classes since elementary school.” 

You shook your head. “Which is exactly why my school would be perfect for you. We left at the same age, remember?” You took his hand and began to trace the lines of his palm. “It took some getting used to, but I made it. If I can, so can you—and I’ll help you every step of the way.” 

Luke chuckled softly. “I’m a little worried about leaving Annabeth.” 

“Annabeth of all people would support you going for your education,” you said. “And it’s not like she’ll be on her own—everyone likes her here.” 

“...Talk me through it,” Luke decided. “Say we both go back for the school year. What does a sophomore year for the two of us back in Boston look like?” 

“Well, we’d be living together. We have an extra room in our apartment, and I’m sure I can convince my mom to let you take it.” You let out a sigh as you shifted, moving closer into Luke’s side. “We’d take the T together to school, but you don’t have to worry because I can show you around everywhere.” 

He chuckled. "I could use a refresher on Boston. Don't have the fondest memories there."

"We'll just make some new ones," you promised. “I’m on the soccer team, too. I was JV this year, but I’m gonna make varsity next fall—mark my words.” 

Luke rubbed your shoulder as he hummed. “And I’d come to every game.” 

“You better.” You glanced up at him with a smile. “You could try out for something too. I think you’d make a killing in basketball.” 

He raised his eyebrows. “Do you not remember all those pick-up games we played when we were younger and bored? I was gods-awful.” 

“This’ll be different,” you insisted. “You’ll actually be sleeping on a bed every night, and eating consistently. I think that makes you a better athlete. Plus, you’re not three feet tall anymore.” 

Luke laughed as he intertwined your fingers together. “The star soccer player and the mediocre basketball player. We make quite a couple.” 

“You’d be better than mediocre,” you said. “Anyways—we’d play our sports and kill it, I’d introduce you to all the friends I made last year, I’d show you all around Boston, and I’d get you hooked on the Red Sox.” 

He leaned back against the headboard with a chuckle. “You’re really never gonna let this go, are you?” 

“It’s my sovereign duty to put you onto the Red Sox,” you said, “especially surrounded by all these Yankees. I’m gonna get you to a game one of these days. And after we kill sophomore year, we’ll kill junior and senior year.” You tapped on his chest for each year with your free hand, and his smile grew. “Then we’ll graduate high school together. With honors, and monster-free.” 

“You have such high standards,” Luke said wryly. “I’ve always thought I’d be lucky to pass with C’s.” 

“You haven’t always had me,” you mused. “And when we’re together, we can’t lose.” 

Luke smiled as he looked at your intertwined hands. “Y’know, I think your plan sounds pretty good. I’m pretty sure I could put up with school if it meant more time with you.” 

You leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips. Luke moved his hand to keep you there, and when you pulled away, a delicate blush painted his cheeks and pure love danced in his eyes. You couldn’t help but smile. 

You were the luckiest girl in the world. 

“Thank you,” you said. 

Luke offered a sideways grin. “For what?”

You shrugged. “For being you.”

“Thank you, then,” he said. 

“For what?” 

“For sticking with me,” Luke said. “Through everything.” 

“I wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else,” you murmured. 

-

The second year isn’t any easier. 

Luke is back to being year-round. There’s no point in going home—not when Connecticut hasn’t welcomed him in years. Not when he would just be another problem for your mother in the midst of her grief. 

So he stays at camp. Endures the pitiful looks from everyone, lies his way through attempted therapy with Chiron, trains more than ever before. No one seems to know how to treat him, because he goes from completely alone to swarmed with sympathy to completely alone again. It takes two months before his friends are acting like he’s a normal person again, and even then it still feels like they’re walking on glass. 

Luke can’t find enough inside of him to care. 

He practices with his sword until he feels like his arms might fall off, only narrowly avoiding the harpies each night. His siblings ask how he does it, why he does it, and he just says he wants to get better. 

But Luke refuses to let it happen again—not when his surrogate sister is all he has left. Not when he sees you every time he closes his eyes. 

His birthday comes and goes, but seventeen is empty without you. He replays your past conversations in his head, about traveling together and graduating together and maybe even going to college together. Demigods aren’t meant to think about the future, but he dared to dream with you. 

And the worst part was that you were right. You made varsity. You were in the middle of killing sophomore year, despite Luke struggling his way through with C’s and the occasional D—you had always been smarter than him. You got him out to a Red Sox game, and gods forbid, he actually enjoyed it. 

You were living the life you deserved, a life of happiness and success and with Luke, and you didn’t even make it past sophomore year. You were meant for so much more, and every day he questions why it was taken from you. Every day, he questions why you’re gone and he’s not. 

The year chugs on in all its misery, and for the first time since he all but rejected him as his son, Hermes appears to Luke. 

His father gives him a quest, and he takes it despite the inherent insult of it. Maybe some part of him hopes he’ll die out there and finally get to see you again. 

(Another part wonders if he’s even worth Elysium. Luke lost you once, then he lost Thalia, and now he’s lost you again. Some kind of hero he is.) 

He goes it alone. It takes him back to the first couple of months before he met you, and when the thought hits him, it almost overwhelms him. Everything makes Luke think of you, but it makes sense. He’s only living half a life—he’s missing the other half of his soul. 

Luke fails his quest. He manages to get a claw and he manages to nearly lose an eye. There’s no glory in a repeated quest, but there might be even less glory in this. 

And once more, Luke staggers back to camp as a victim rather than a hero. Someone only worthy of pity, someone so weak that Chiron bans quests unless they’re absolutely necessary. It takes weeks for the scars on his body to heal, and the mark on his face even longer. He becomes well-acquainted with the cycle of Apollo kids that take shifts in the infirmary.  

He feels nothing but disgust every time he looks in the mirror. After all, the claw marks ripping their way through his body match yours. Sometimes he wishes Ladon finished the job. 

It doesn’t make sense why, after everything, he’s still here. 

Luke can hardly stand to be at camp, but he’s got nowhere else to go. He gets better at hiding his emotions, better at acting like he’s gotten through it. New demigods show up and he’s not the bereaved counselor anymore—he’s not introduced with his grief. He hides it away.  

No one wants to deal with all the problems he’s racked up. His mom, his dad, Thalia, you.    He’s a demigod. Demigods are resilient. So he plays the part—he’s been through a lot, but he’s past it. He promises he’s not a burden anymore. He’s just a normal kid. 

And for a while, Luke is almost able to believe it himself. He’s never going to be over you, but he starts feeling like a person again rather than a ghost of one. He’s fully taken over the mantle of counselor again, and he’s actually present during sword-fighting lessons. He even manages to get a six-month-long capture the flag winning streak going on. 

And then Kronos appears in his dreams. 

Luke knows Greek mythology. It’s hard not to pick up a couple things when you’re fighting stuff from the history books, but they teach some lessons at camp. It’s nice to know what you’re up against before you die a brutal death. 

Kronos killed his father. He ate his children. Every wicked deed was done for power, and power is what he offers Luke. 

And maybe there’s something wrong with him, because it’s the first time he’s felt hope since he left Boston. 

Luke finally has an answer to something. He’s been silently cursing the gods for years, trying to figure out a way to tear everything down without getting himself immediately killed, and he’s got one. 

Kronos speaks to him most nights. He remembers the dreams you shared with him in your final year, all the restless hours spent sitting together on the fire escape as he soothed you. You thought Kronos was the reason for it, but he couldn’t have been. His dreams were nothing like yours. 

But still, Luke wonders every day what you would say if you were here, if you knew the treacherous path he’d embarked on. Kronos promised power, freedom, an end to Olympus and the reign of the gods. 

He doesn’t care about power. He just wants to hold you again. He wants to hear your laugh again. He wants to see your smile in more than pictures. 

But he can’t. And he wants to destroy everyone responsible for it. 

So he does everything the Titan Lord asks of him. He hones his skills even further, he lays low, and when the time is right, he steals Zeus’s bolt and Hades’ helm. Luke even nearly beats Ares when he’s caught, but Kronos doesn’t lead him astray—he speaks of divine war, and he gets out of it. 

He continues to see you. Kronos doesn’t lead him astray, but he punishes him for such a close call. Luke wakes in the middle of the night, eyes wide and chest heaving with labored breaths, and he feels your blood on his hands all over again. He sees you die over and over again and he can do nothing to stop it.  

You always told each other about your nightmares. 

That’s the hardest part of it all. You’ve always been so closely intertwined with Luke’s life since the moment he saved you in that aquarium years ago, and he can’t see any way to let go of you. He can’t—even though you’re gone, you’re still a part of him. His first instinct in any situation is to tell you, and it kills him that he can’t. 

And maybe things would have turned out different for Luke if you were still around. He’s never going to forgive himself for your death, and he’s certainly never going to forgive the gods. Thalia pushed him to the edge, but you were the breaking point. Luke is only nineteen and he’s loved and lost more than most.

Maybe things would be different if you were here. But you’re not, and they aren’t. So when a new demigod shows up, covered in monster dust and nearly dead on camp’s doorstep with Grover in tow, Luke doesn’t hesitate. 

He killed the Minotaur, and his mom is dead. Skilled enough to take on a quest, desperate enough to ignore a couple warning signs. Percy Jackson is the boy Kronos told him about. 

So Luke takes him under his wing. Shows him around camp, welcomes him to the Hermes cabin, trains with him one-on-one. 

Something about his spirit reminds him of you. It’s the grit, he thinks. The determination. The refusal to back down even when it’s the smartest option. When he asks about you that night in the Hermes cabin, Luke’s heart stutters. The kid is too sharp for his liking. 

It doesn’t take long before Luke manages to cement himself as one of his friends, maybe only third to Annabeth and Grover. He’s a lost kid that’s been thrust into a world he doesn’t understand, and Luke is the closest thing to a rock most campers have got. 

It’s supposed to just be a guise, but sometimes, he forgets himself. He likes Percy too much—he just feels too much like a younger brother, and that’s not really good for the already growing guilt in his chest. 

Maybe it’s because Luke sees himself in Percy. Someone playing a part he’s not aware of, an unfortunate pawn with no choice in the matter. Luke tries to push it away. Kronos wouldn’t lead him astray—this was the path he had to take if he wanted anything to change. 

But it’s not like that makes it easier. Because gods, Percy has never looked more like a kid than when he’s suited up in armor for capture the flag. It almost makes Luke regret the plan he has to enact. 

Almost. 

Annabeth has a plan as usual, and thankfully Percy plays the part of bait. Luke tunes out of everything else and lets his battle senses take over—things have already been set into play, and now all Luke can do is hide in plain sight. Soon enough he’s got the red team’s flag past the boundary line, and he’s hoisted up onto his teammates shoulders. Luke is almost able to forget what he’s done. 

…Almost. 

A howl rips through the forest, and the hellhound Luke summoned after the start of the game launches itself at Percy. He’s on the ground before he knows it, the flag forgotten in his hand as he rushes over with the rest of the campers. 

For some ungodly reason, Annabeth tries to step in front of him, but she’s thankfully too slow. The monster swipes at Percy and its claws shred through his armor. For a split second, Luke is back in Boston and his chest stills.

Chiron solves the problem with a cluster of arrows, but the camp is in immediate disarray. Clarisse instantly accuses Percy, Annabeth is trying to make sure Percy doesn’t die, and Luke just hopes his shock is believable enough to hide his annoyance. He’s just a scrawny kid—how the hell is he still alive? But then the unthinkable happens.

Annabeth tells Percy to step back in the lake. The instant he’s in the water, what should have been a fatal wound starts to heal. 

And then a glowing blue trident appears above Percy Jackson’s head. 

Luke feels sick as he lowers himself to one knee with the rest of camp. As the hellhound he summoned melts into the shadows, as he stares at the sacrificial lamb of a demigod meant to unknowingly enact his plan. 

“Poseidon,” Chiron says. “Earthshaker, Stormbringer, Father of Horses. Hail, Perseus Jackson, Son of the Sea God.”

Your brother. 

[touyaki]

part two of three

part one, part three

contains: tendou x fem!reader, squirting, pussy eating, consensual photographing, use of “pretty girl,” “slut,” and “whore,” unprotected sex

tendou knows ushijima has his eyes on you and that you have your sights on him, too. that’s why he’s doing this, fucking you until you forget about ushiwaka, making you crave him instead. you look so pretty like this, blouse unbuttoned with your breasts spilling out of your bra, knees pressed to your chest. your skirt is hiked up, revealing your glistening cunt, panties discarded somewhere in his room. 

you were practically drooling over the thought of his cock, and you’re even naughtier now that it’s inside you. your borderline pornographic moans are proof that his plan is working. poor ushijima who’s never laid hands on a single cunt before could never make you feel this good. he could never know how to rub your clit until you scream, how to angle his hips so that your eyes roll back and you see stars.

“come on, pretty girl.” tendou pries your arms away from your face, grinning at the way your tongue dangles from your mouth, brows scrunched in pleasure. “i wanna see your face.”

you only whine in response when he pins your wrists down with one hand, the other reaching to fondle your tits. he pinches and rolls your nipple in his fingers, smirking when your back arches and goosebumps rise on your skin. 

“s-satori,” you babble. “feels so good, y-your cock feels good.” 

he didn’t expect you to say such lewd things—hell, he didn’t plan on asking you anyway. it’s a pleasant surprise, and the fact you said those on your own accord makes him move his hips harder, faster, until he’s sure everyone can hear your screams. the tip of his cock is nearly kissing your cervix now, so deep and full inside your tight cunt. tendou was hoping to last a little longer, but with how hard you’re clamping down on him, it’s impossible.

his thrusts grow sloppy, moans ripping from his throat. he chants your name, calls you his pretty little slut, turning you into his whore, and he won’t have it any other way. tendou isn't giving you up to anyone, especially ushiwaka. it’s not long before his legs can’t handle it anymore and he collapses against you, feeling how much his cum is filling you up. in a last attempt to make you cum, he rubs this thumb against your clit roughly. he doesn’t expect the clear liquid that gushes out of your fluttering cunt, splashing against his pelvis until it drips onto his bed.  

“i’m s-sorry,” you slur. “i-”

tendou shushes you with a kiss, tongue pressed against yours. he smiles against your lips and brushes your hair aside before straightening up. once he pulls his cock out from you, the mess that’s left has him growing hard again. his cum spills out of your gaping hole, down your slick thighs, wet from when you squirted. with a smirk, tendou reaches for his phone and opens the camera. 

“can i take a picture, baby? gonna show ushiwaka who’s making you cum.”

surprisingly, you nod, even spreading your legs wider to give him a better view. he could fall in love with you right then and there if he wasn’t already. you hear the soft click as he takes a snapshot of your pussy that still aches for him. after he sends the text, his phone blows up with a slew of messages that he ignores with a sly smirk. tendou silences it before he hovers over you once more, kissing you sweetly compared to how rough he was before.

“did it feel good, princess?”

you nod and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him close. “still need you, satori,” you whine. “please, make me cum again.”

“so needy.” he slides down the bed until his head is in between your thighs. the tip of his tongue drags up your folds, collecting his cum mixed with yours. your fingers fly down to grab his hair, making him groan. “i’ll give you what you want, sweetheart. don’t you worry your pretty head.”

[pinkeos]

Professor!AFAB!Ratio x Student!AMAB!Reader || 18+ MDNI

Warning/s: SMUT, semi public, squirting, professor x student but reader is legal!

Ratio knew this was wrong, that this was beyond his morals and that his professionalism was thrown out the window with how you eagerly drove your cock inside of him.

You were his student, one of the best, and even though he was only a few years older than you, it was still unacceptable for a student and their professor to see each other, much less sleep together.

But he couldn't help it. Not when you never cease to bring him to cloud nine, with your tip pressing against that spongy spot inside of him that made his breath hitch, toes curl and eyes roll back. Not when you pound him too quickly and so hard as if your goal was to take his ability to walk away from him.

And from the way you seek him out almost every time to do the same thing all over again, he knew you loved it too. Whether for the pleasure and thrill of doing something you shouldn't, or because you genuinely fancied him, he doesn't know.

Smack!

His body jolted forward, a moan falling from his lips at the way your hand harshly met the fat of his ass, a grin on your face at how it jiggled with every spank and every thrust you gave him. The car was shaking at this point, the windows blocked by the steam from your heated bodies. He could only pray no one stumbled across it in the secluded corner of the parking lot.

“You’re driving me crazy, Veritas.” You murmured into his ear, breathing heavy as your hands wandered over his body, feeling every bit of his soft skin and muscles as if it would be the last time you could.

Your hand then traveled downwards, to where your bodies connected so your index and middle finger could rub at his swollen clit.

“Oh, fuck!” The professor moaned, struggling to keep himself up as his hands pressed against the windows. He was too far gone in ecstasy, head too cloudy to form any coherent thoughts aside from the way your cock filled him up to the brim.

“I wanna cum— shit— in you. Fill you up and make you mine, yeah? Show this pussy who it belongs to.” You raspy chuckle sent shivers down his spine, his hips grinding down to meet your thrusts.

“W-wait!” He squirmed, trying to get away from you but your arms held him closer, your chest pressed against his back as you continued pumping into him, your fingers rubbing his clit even faster to drive him into his climax.

“Wait, no, I’m going to— ohh! S’too much, fuck!” He cried out, legs spasming as he squirted, his fluids running down his thighs and onto the backseat rapidly.

Your eyes twinkled with amusement, a shit eating grin on your face as you slapped his clit to urge him to let everything out. The lewd sight of his pussy squirting all over the seats and your lower half was enough to drive you over the edge, your cum mixing with the clear, sticky fluid coming out of his cunt.

He was too caught up in his high to even worry about the state of his car. He'll have to worry about it later, for now, he's basking in the pleasure as his eyes roll back, lips parted while his choked sobs roll out of them.

He was panting, chest heaving as his sweaty body shook after, trying to catch his breath. But you wouldn't let him, not when you've witnessed how gorgeous he looked and sounded squirting all over your cock like that.

Ratio’s eyebrows lifted when he heard the door open, you pulled out and away from him, standing out by the door, with your cock still hard and out. Before he could ask, he yelped when you took a hold of his legs, pulling him down until his lower half was out of the car.

“W-what are you doing?! Someone might see us!” He nagged, face red from your earlier activities and from the humiliation as he sat up to take a hold of your arm, “Get back inside the car right no— aahh!”

You cut him off when you pushed your dick back inside of his gaping hole, hooking one of his ankles on your shoulder, “Shhh, no one will see us, baby, don't worry. Just give me another one, okay? I’ll be done with you after that, just give me one more.”

Without waiting for his answer, you began thrusting once more, enjoying the way his complaints faltered as all reason left his mind yet again.

The way you pulled another squirt out of him with your cock and fingers, and his lower half out of the car as you fucked into him would forever be burned inside Ratio’s mind. He's still red even after driving you back to your apartment.

“You sure you can handle yourself? I didn't tire you out too much, did I?” You asked with a sweet smile, as if you weren't grinning at his embarrassment earlier.

“Yes, I can.” He answered, rolling his eyes before meeting yours.

He's a bit glad you held back on pointing out the redness of his cheeks.

“Alright, then. Thanks for driving me back home.” You smiled cheekily, leaning forward to place a soft kiss on his lips, “And also, thanks for earlier. Let's do it again sometime, Professor.”

He was left dumbfounded while you left the car, waving at him before making your way towards your apartment. It was the first time you kissed him outside of having sex. He groaned, pressing his forehead against the steering wheel.

Everytime he convinced himself it would be the last of your escapades, he just couldn't bring himself to end it.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Stitching JJK men up or at least trying to

This gorgeous art is by @bogactivity! Thank you from the bottom of my heart for letting me use it as a cover 🤍

Pairings: Gojo x fem!reader; Toji x fem!reader; Yuta x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,4k

Warnings: injury (lol), the boys being smooth operators hehe, not proofread I'm honestly glad I even managed to finish a fic with this hell of a week in my back, this is the first free afternoon I'm having y'all

Let me know if you want a Part ll of this! Since it took me forever to write and I spent my only free afternoon of this week to finish that for you guys, I'd be beyond thankful if you show a lil support to your girl 😭

Gojo Satoru

„C’mon man, you can’t be serious about that”, you mutter in sheer annoyance, eyes roaming up and down the blood-covered man in front of you.

He has some nerves, showing up at your doorstep with his reversed technique when there are probably hundreds of injured jujutsu sorcerers and normal human being out there crying for help. God, if it was the first time, if he wouldn’t be the strongest. But something inside you tells you he does this on purpose, something inside you just knows this isn’t a coincidence.

“I’m here to get stitched up”, he announces proudly, making his way into your home as if he’s inviting.

“Don’t bleed on my floor”, you warn him.

Is there a way out of this? You worked for 18 hours today, just returned home since Shoko took over for you. And now? Now he’s here – here to ruin your night.

“I won’t if you help me”, he hums with a sly grin plastered on his face.

A gaping hole in his chest, an injury that would have killed every other being if he wasn’t the strongest. Oh, you know damn well that he healed himself just enough to make it to your place. But even though you want to stand your ground and throw him out in a heartbeat, you simply sign to yourself and roll up your sleeves. After all, it is easier to get rid of him when you’re doing what he wants, right?

“Take that off”, you instruct him, nodding towards his uniform.

“You don’t have to ask me twice back.”

“Don’t call me that”, you mumble while watching as he exposes his firm chest.

Damn, sometimes you tend to forget how trained that man his. With his abs cooked in god’s kitchen and his body toned like a Greek statue, it’s hard to keep your face from blushing. Not even the fact that there’s a gaping hole in his chest can distract you from the stinging fact that Satoru Gojo is too damn hot.

“Enjoying the view, (y/n)?”

You shake yourself, avoiding eye contact as if your life depends on it. Fuck, he really caught you staring. That sleek bastard who thinks the world belongs to him, who is used to women and even men falling to his feet. Get this over before you lose the last bit of class you have left.

But the second you touch his bare skin something changes. No, it’s not you who gets flustered by his sheer presence, it’s not you who stumbles over their words. It’s Satoru Gojo, flinching back the slightest bit with the faintest blush creeping up his face.

Satoru Gojo.

Blushing.

“Are you…blushing?”

His bright blue orbs widen, cheeks getting redder and redder by every passing second. You can’t stop the grin that gets wider and wider, tilting your head to the side like he always does when he’s about to get on your nerves.

“What’s wrong, Satoru? Not used to getting touched by a woman?”

“None of them are you”, he presses out.

Fuck. Now it’s you who reddens in an instant, you who stares at him with wide eyes, your palms feeling sticky against his skin. How? How is it able that he sweeps you off your feet with a few words? Why does he have this power over you when you tell yourself over and over that you don’t care about him, that you are nothing but comrades?

Why does he have to be so…him?

“What’s wrong, (y/n)? Cat got your tongue?”

You close your eyes. Just a few seconds more, you’re almost finished. And after that you’ll throw him out, after that you’ll-

“Is it possible that maybe…you’re into me as well?”

“As well!?”, you repeat out of instinct.

“Come on, playing dumb doesn’t suit you. Don’t ya think I’d be able to heal myself?”

“I know you are.”

He tilts his head to the side just the way you hate it.

Hate? Out of instinct, you shake your head ever so slightly. No, you never felt hate when you touched his body, didn’t even feel hate when he smeared his blood all over your couch. No, this is something completely else. This is…

A crush?

“Leave right now”, you breathe out.

Nope, you simply can’t afford to have a crush on that man. With a swift motion, you push him to your door, don’t even give him the chance to fight against you. What a ridiculous idea, why would you even-

“I still need my uniform-“

You smack the door close behind him before breathlessly running up to his uniform and throwing it out of the window onto him.

“Don’t you dare to come here again!”

“Oh, I definitely will (y/n).”

Toji Fushiguro

“Come on (y/n)-“

“I hate that man and you know it”, you argue.

Not even the cigarette Shui Kong gave you will distract you from what he’s asking for. God, how much you hate that man. Toji Fushiguro, walking sex himself.

And the biggest asshole you’ve ever met on top.

“Well, technically it’s your job. But I’d hate to force you into this.”

He crosses his well-dressed legs, gaze meeting yours while puffing on his cigarette. Oh, how much you hate that he’s right. After all, he’s paying you a decent amount of money for saving those stupid men from certain dead.

“Where is he?”

You can’t believe your own ears, that you even consider helping that man after he dumped you. Toji has to suffer for the things he’s done, for leaving you standing in the rain after telling you over and over how fucking special you are to him. No, there’s absolutely no damn reason for you to throw your cigarette away, to follow after Shui.

“Took you quite some time to get here. Lucky for you I’m not that serious injured.”

That deep unpromising voice, that tone you know oh so well. The urge to turn on your heels and run away almost becomes unbearable. God, how stupid was it to even consider heling him? Fuck Shui, fuck your contract. You definitely won’t help him-

“Oh, it’s you.”

Fuck. You want to shoot yourself right on the spot, hide behind the door or get swallowed whole. But instead, that traitor Shui exposes you to Toji’s merciless eyes, shoves you into the tiny apartment before you’re able to protest.

“Absolutely not nice to see you again”, you mutter under your breath.

No, you don’t even dare to look at this force of a man, to give him that power over you ever again. Him with his damn gorgeous eyes, him with these mountains of muscles. Oh, you know damn well how fucking easy it is to fall for him.

“Can I get some help?”

You can’t resist. The urge to take a look at his wounds overpowers your strong will.

And you regret it immediately.

There he sits, shirtless, a bandage poorly wrapped around his enormous biceps while he tucked the end of it between his teeth. Fuck, when you only imagine where his mouth was, that he discovered your body with his mouth more than once.

You swallow hard.

“I’m sure you’ll be able to help. Now excuse me, I need to take that call.”

No, no, no. Your heart falls onto the ground immediately, eyes widen in sheer horror when Shui turns around and threatens to leave.

“You can’t leave me here alone with him”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

“You’re a strong girl, aren’t you? You are the only one I trust in when it comes to him.”

And with that he’s gone, leaves you standing in the rain like a lost puppy.

“Don’t stand there and look after him when I’m here, princess.”

“Oh god, please just shut the fuck up”, you grumble.

Do you even have the chance to get out of this? You catch a glimpse of him and his toned body, blood running down his arm. When you’re already here, it wouldn’t be a crime to do your job.

And ask for a ton more money when Shui returns. 

Without saying another word, you sit down next to him. Putting on your gloves, taking a closer look at his wound.

“Got shot, hm?”

Clean, disinfect.

“Yeah.”

Take out your tweezers, search for the bullet.

“So, how you’ve been princess?”

“Don’t call me that”, you warn him.

“Aren’t ya at least a lil excited to see me?”

“Absolutely not”, you reply dryly, digging a little deeper than necessary into his wound.

What is that little part inside of you that makes your heart beat a little faster, lets your palms get sweaty? No, you are definitely not excited to see him again. How he broke your heart the last time, how he played you-

“I hoped he’d call ya. That’s why I let that fucker shoot me.”

Wait…What? Your eyes dart up in an instant, tweezers digging so roughly into his flesh that a groan escapes his delicious lips.

“You lie as always”, you breathe out.

“Bet I don’t.”

With a swift motion of his uninjured arm, he draws you closer, traps you against his broad chest.

“Missed ya”, he mumbles against your hair, takes in your delicious scent.

“You dumped me.”

“Dumped you? Would never do that.”

“You did”, you insist.

A little whimper escapes your lips when his hot breath brushes over your neck just the way you always loved it. Fuck, you’re here to do your job, to stitch that fucker up and leave. Why are you lying in his arms again, why is his arm wrapped around your waist so tightly that you can’t escape anymore?

“Imma show you how much I missed ya-“

“Toji”, you warn him half-heartedly.  

“I-I’m…Just here to do my job.”

“I have a better job for ya.”

Yuta Okkotsu

Gojo doesn’t have to tell you twice. The second you hear his name, hear that he’s injured, your feet sprint down the alleys of Jujutsu High on their own.

Yuta Okkotsu.

The boy who simply swept you off your feet the second you heard his voice. The boy who always stayed up with you until past midnight, watched how you trained your mind and hands to use reversed technique just like Shoko does.

“If I get hurt someday, I want you to take care of me.”

“No way, if you get injured I’ll send Shoko herself. I’m not good enough to help you”, you laughed.

“You are good enough in every way, (y/n).”

And now you’re here, lungs feeling as if they’ll burst any given minute, mouth tasting like fresh blood. You have to be on time. Please let you be on time.

“Gojo-sensei!”

Your voice sounds so strange in your own ears, filled with thick dread. Gojo didn’t even tell you what’s up, didn’t even tell you what exactly happened.

“Yuta is injured, hurry. I’ll send you the location.”

“Easy (y/n). Otherwise you’ll have to use reversed technique on-“

“Where is he?”, you breathe out.

The world around you begins to spin so violently that you feel like fainting for a minute. All you want to see is Yuta being fine, Yuta being only slightly injured. Where is he? Is he fine? Your mouth can’t keep up with the sheer speed of your thoughts anymore.

“Look who’s here to save ya, Yuta!”

Your glossy eyes shoot up, take in the sight in front of you. There he stands with a trail of blood running down his gorgeous face, his gaze locked with yours. He is injured, but alive. A few bruises here and there, but overall fine.

Yuta’s fine.

“(y/n)!”

Like in slow motion your feet start to move again just like his, running and running until you get greeted by his opened arms.

“I was so scared for a second. He told me you’re injured”, you breathe out.

“Oh, don’t worry about that too much. Just a few cuts and bruises and- OUCH, yeah, I think my ribs are broke.”

“Sit down, I’ll take care of this.”

You position your trembling hands on his body, eyes never leaving his sight. These last few hours were like a trip to hell and back.

“I’m sorry (y/n), but you know we aren’t allowed to fight.”

“But what about Yuta and the others? What if they need help?”, you insisted, not even Shoko’s hand placed on your shoulder able to calm down your pounding heart.

“They’ll call us as soon as it’s safe.”

“I didn’t even get the chance to tell him that…”

You couldn’t finish your sentence, a wave of tears hunting you down without mercy. Oh, how much you’d give to see him again, to finally tell him how much he really means to you.

“You will, don’t worry about it.”

Shoko was right, after all. Yuta is here with you, the minor bruises on his body healing in an instant while he smiles gently at you.

“Look? I told you you’ll take good care of me”, he comments gently.

“I’m just glad you’re fine. What on earth happened here? Jujutsu High looks like a battlefield. And don’t get me started on Maki and Panda…”

Shivers run down your spine just by thinking of the state they were in when Shoko was called. Just the thought of Yuta still being out there, fighting whoever responsible for these severe injuries...

You swallow hard, hands shaking just like they did when realization hit you. Yuta could have died today. All of them could have died today.

“You’re here. That’s all that matters right now.”

Yuta doesn’t think twice. He intertwines his hand with yours ever so gently, his face radiating nothing but pure affection. Oh, how much these last hours showed him how much you really mean to him. Not a second passed in which he didn’t ponder about whenever you’re doing okay, if you’re safe here at Jujutsu High. And now you’re right where you belong: By his side.

“I love you, (y/n). I think I did all this time.”

Oh.

Your brain needs a few moments to comprehend the words he just said. Yuta…love…YOU?

Yuta loves you.

Yuta. “Finally!”, Gojo screams from afar.

Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @ @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @satoreo @luwumii @tachiharazsstuff @kentocalls @cheesemachine44 @ryva @kenjakusconcubine @baku2345 @komelrebi-san @deezy12299@busyreader17 @4pgletter @okay-it-is-ivy @iluvtoru

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Fanart used in the cover by @bogactivity - you NEED to check out their artwork!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Diabolical 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, violence, extreme profanity, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Billy Butcher

Summary: your neighbours has some strange friends.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“Ah, cunt!” 

The man’s voice rolls under your door. His accent adds a certain slant to his words that makes them sound even harsher. You hover your mug in front of your lips, steam curling from the freshly brewed tea, as your eyes drift over in detest. 

You lower it and carry it with you to the door. You lean in to see through the peep hole. The same dark hair, the same long black jacket with the patch on one shoulder, and the same lumbering form. He thumps again on the door across the hall. 

“Hughie, open up, ya skinny cunt.” 

He uses that word again. Your lip curls and you huff. He keeps on. 

You slide back the chain and your adrenaline pumps into your chest. You flip the lock back slowly and pull the door in an inch. You peer through the space as the man checks his watch and grumbles. 

“Where are ya, Hughie?” He grumbles and shakes his head. “Big fucking stick bug, won’t answer ya phone, won’t come to the door...” 

“It’s not very nice language, is it?” You chide. You’re just as surprised as the man as he stands straight and freezes. He turns to you stiffly as you let the door open a little more. 

“Eh? And who are you, then?” He tilts his head this way and that as he growls. 

“I live here. Who are you?” You say defiantly. You sip your tea to keep your nerves under wrap. 

“Wouldn’t you like know, sweetheart?” He snickers. “Oi, you ain’t happened see the skinny one lives over here?” He jabs his thumb behind him. 

You stare at him. You shake your head again. His eyes narrow and flick up and down. 

“Too good for the likes of us, eh? You and your fancy porcelain? What’s that? Royal Daulton Cuntware?” 

You gasp and bat your lashes. “Excuse me, I haven’t been rude. I’ve only asked you to keep it down. Other people live here besides your friend and they don’t appreciate hearing your profanity every morning.” 

“Eh,” he gives a crooked smirk, “you listenin’ for me, sweetheart?” 

“I don’t know you, sir, and I shouldn’t like to.” 

“Ain’t ya so proper? Sirs and shouldn’ts and tea.” He taunts. 

You take a breath and back up, “I would only appreciate a little consideration, but thanks. Have a lovely day.” 

“Oi, go on and hide then, darling.” He tugs on his lapels and squares his shoulders. He chuckles again. 

You stop the door before you can shut it all the way. You bristle at his laughter. “I don’t think you’re funny.” 

He chortles again. He steps closer and you go rigid. You can’t measure up to a man like him. You still the tremour in your hand before your tea can slosh towards the brim. 

“Well, I think you’re right hilarious. Why don’t you go on? Tell me, eh, are you more offended by the shit on my boots or the onion on my breath?” 

You steel yourself as you grip the door tightly. “Don’t come any closer.” 

“Ah, I don’t got that sorta time. Whatcha think a brute like me would do then?” He stops and plants his feet wide. 

“You needn’t be so impolite--” 

“Needn’t--” he mimics. Before you can stop yourself, the tea splashes across his face and chest.  

You recoil as the porcelain drips in your hand and you gape at his stunned grimace. His blue eyes flash and you kick the door shut as you retreat. You put the chain in place and twist the lock. You press your back to the door and listen, heart pounding, and wait. 

His treads scuff on the floor and he sighs. The floor groans as he moves and you watch his shadow beneath your door. Yet, no banging comes at the door. 

“Ah, bollocks, that’ll stain.” His grumble follows him down the hall. 

You have no idea what you were thinking. A man like that is dangerous. You don’t need his name or anything else. You can tell just by looking at him.  

You’re not the sort to associate with the type. You didn’t think your neighbour was either. Then again, you only know Hughie because he dropped a sock in front of your door. He didn’t stay to chat as he snatched it and chased that pretty blonde inside. 

You turn and stand on your toes to see through the peephole. He’s gone but you don’t dare go out and make sure. You’ll do best not to show your face again. Just drink your tea and hide, like you always do.