#its not that deep. its not its not its not . but if it was anything other than what it is it could have been. and thats the worst part
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✎ throughout heaven and earth
- gojo satoru x reader
a sudden mission. a curse beyond your grade. all hell breaks loose when gojo realizes that there are hidden machinations behind the incident that befalls you
genre:
feral!gojo, injured!reader, hurt/comfort, exponential fluff !
note:
we need a gojo who will go ballistic against the higher-ups for dragging you in their mess :) refer to this for the reader's CT, and this loosely takes place after the events in heaven's fury, and the epilogue is based on this very brilliant idea :))
a part of gojo's love entries
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
Something isn’t right.
You should’ve known it was strange when they assigned you with a sudden mission with little to no briefing. You should’ve gone through with your gut feeling and informed Satoru about it.
Because if you did... now you wouldn’t be running for your life like this, frantically dodging the hacks and slashes of this chainsaw-like cursed spirit that was evidently not a Grade 2 as what you were told.
“Ah!” you yelped as the sharp ends of its body struck your shoulder, leaving you bleeding openly. This was no small wound—it was deep enough to make you stagger.
You had to do something about this because merely avoiding wouldn’t save your life. You had to come back in one piece. You have to— for your baby and Satoru.
What if I can’t? The sheer thought made you tremble. Your baby boy was still so little and he needed you more than anyone, and Satoru...
God, you couldn’t bear to leave him alone. Not again. He couldn't handle losing someone again, not after all he had already lost.
You gripped your whip—your cursed weapon—tightly amidst your bleeding hand. You had barely enough cursed energy for a domain expansion that guaranteed a sure-hit effect. You have one shot. This was all or nothing.
But you weren’t sure if it would work, because you were on the verge of exhaustion, and this was a special grade curse. Your domain expansion was definitely not as refined as the Satoru’s, and this monster was an enemy of his class.
“Satoru...” your voice came out in a sob. You were terribly scared, and honestly you were entitled to. You weren’t even sure you would survive this at all, and all you could think now was your husband’s silly grin and how much you loved him.
And right afterwards, you saw the cursed spirit lunging at you, and with everything left that you had, you screamed—
“Domain Expansion: Transcendent Veil!”
“Gojo-sensei, p-please come back... Nee-san is...!”
Satoru was in Kyoto when he received that call from Megumi— and that moment shattered his world as he knew it.
“Megumi, what is it?”
“She w-was sent on a mission... but then it's a special grade— a-and... she... she e-exorcised it b-but—!”
He teleported without second thought to Tokyo. His mind was blank, the only sound he could hear was his own violent heartbeats, and his fists were clenched so tightly.
“The cursed spirit got her too… It made a cut on her neck.”
His most precious wife... the one person he must protect at all cost, was now possibly—
“Megumi.” He saw him sitting on the hallway of the headquarters’ hospital the with his son on his lap—you had asked him to look after your baby—and the boy looked up to him.
“Gojo-sensei...” Megumi appeared shaken, and seeing that, Satoru immediately took his child from his hands, pulling the little kid into his embrace.
“Go back home, I’ll stay here.”
In all his life, Megumi had never seen Gojo Satoru as calm as he was now. He looked fearsome, as if he was in the battlefield.
“Ichiji.” Satoru turned to the other man rigidly standing next to Megumi, causing him to stiffen up even more. He didn’t say anything further as he pat his little son’s back, and yet Ichiji knew all the same what he wanted from him.
“It’s from… the higher ups, Gojo-san.” Ichiji gulped as he said it. “Y/N-san was suddenly called in yesterday night, and she was told it was an urgent mission.”
“Who called her?”
“It was…”
When Ichiji told him the name, suddenly Satoru barked a snort, and his lips curled into a manic grin. It was a menacing sight for both Ichiji and Megumi, as he looked almost unhinged if not for his secure grip on his son.
But contrary to what they were thinking, what filled Satoru at that moment was pure, unadulterated fury. A righteous sense of being crossed—because, how fucking dare they?
Those higher ups first pressed him to execute Yuji, and when he paid them no mind… now they staged this atrocity against you, most definitely to serve as a warning to him.
“Ichiji, tell them that I’ll pay a visit tomorrow. And drive Megumi home tonight.”
He would make his point loud and clear. He would show them how wrong it was to ever test him. But…
The plan barely satisfied him. They hurt you. His heart finally lurched as he processed the fact… when he heard his baby’s soft whimper against his shoulder.
. . .
You sustained serious injuries, but finally, you were out of critical condition.
When Satoru was allowed to see you, you were still connected to many monitors and breathing machine. He brought your baby too inside, and upon clearly seeing both of them, suddenly your eyes welled up with tears.
“Hey…” his hand gripped yours reassuringly. You sniffled when the strain of your broken ribs made you almost cry out in pain, and Satoru immediately calmed you down.
“Sweets— hey, don’t cry, yeah? You did good.” He pressed a soft kiss on the back of your hand. “You did freaking good. You’re okay now. You’re going to recover, yeah?”
You gave him a tearful little nod, feeling so grateful that you could see him again. And unbeknownst to you, seeing you like this broke his heart too.
“Mwa...” your baby, cradled in your husband’s arms, suddenly stretched his tiny hands towards you, and Satoru handed him over for you to hold.
With the little strength you possessed, you reached out to stroke his soft cheeks. Your son... the thought of how close you came to death brought another tear rolling down your cheek.
All sort of thoughts went through Satoru’s head at the sight. His wife, the mother of his son, who is proud of him for everything he does—
—and their sorry asses dared to hurt you.
Suddenly all he saw was red.
And he swore he would make it right to you. Soon.
“Ah, Satoru-kun… to what I owe the pleasure?”
“…I’ve heard that it was you who assigned that special grade mission to my wife, correct?”
“Oh, that. First of all, I must apologize for my... oversight. We were misinformed... Our scouts made a mistake while filling the files.”
Satoru was trying not to lose his composure first thing after coming here. Really.
But the knowing tone of the elderly Jujutsu Commander only fueled his rage, growing stronger the longer he stood behind this stupid paper divider.
“So it’s a mistake, huh?” he repeated in a satire manner. “Then do you know that my wife has just gotten out of her maternity leave this week?”
The man behind the divider chuckled quietly. “Satoru-kun… I know the sentiment. Of course you’ll be worried, and it did end in a rather… unfortunate incident. However, jujutsu sorcerers are bound to their duty, and your wife cannot rely too heavily on her status as a member of the Gojo clan to be excluded from—”
Fuck it. He had no patience any longer.
“Seems like I need to be a lot rougher, after all.”
Suddenly the room crackled with electricity and the Jujutsu Commander gasped at the sense of foreboding he felt. “Gojo, you can’t—!”
“Heh, but I can.” He let out the most satisfied laugh before opening his palm and chanting in a lower voice: “Cursed Technique Lapse: Blue.”
In a matter of seconds, the audience chamber of jujutsu headquarters turned into a pile of destruction. The commander barely made it out the deadly vacuum vortex with a shriek.
“Ah! N-no! Get a-away from me!” Satoru stared down at him coldly through his unobstructed heavenly eyes, as he pitifully tried to crawl away. He took one step towards him, stomped on his hand ruthlessly—causing the man to scream, before he got down to his level.
“N-no! Please, s-spare me...!”
“This is my first and last warning to you.” It was beyond terrifying, to see those six eyes in this close proximity. But even more dreadful was the tight chokehold on his throat—
“If you ever try to pull this idiotic stunt again on my wife, know that I can and I will snap your neck.” Satoru’s face split into a sinister grin as he tapped the man’s nape, before he crushed the bone on his hand with a crack and made him howl. “Remember that, yeah?”
. . . that day, none in jujutsu headquarters dared to spread any word about Gojo Satoru’s outrageous conduct, even when it was an attack against their own highest ranking leader.
“Satoru, you don’t have to, really—”
“Nuh, uh! I’ve promised you I’ll nurse you back to health!”
Unaware of anything and everything, you thought that your loving husband was a silly jester trying to make you feel better. On the fifth day of your stay in hospital, you were well enough to eat solid food, and Satoru insisted on spoon feeding you the fruits he cut himself.
“Good girl,” he praised with a wholly playful smile as you chewed on the watermelon. You looked at him with a mock frown, pursing your lips.
“You’re making me look like a kid.”
“You are, in fact, my second kid, so I have all rights to baby you.”
You let out a giggle, but then suddenly your throat felt like it was closing in and you coughed. Instinctively, you reached for your neck— your fingers tracing the scar there.
You still could remember the sense of paralyzing fear you felt as soon as your neck was cut. The heavy bleeding that followed, the way the world blacking out around you…
“Sweets…?” Satoru put down the plate and got a grip on your trembling figure. He gently pushed your chin up to meet his eyes. “Hey, look at me. Look at me, hmm?”
Your frantic eyes locked onto his, and your rapid breathing steadied. Your clammy hand reached out to touch his face... before you lunged forward, throwing your arms around him.
“Sweetheart…” Satoru hugged you back in return, sighing against the nape on your neck, as he planted a soft kiss there.
You tried your best not to cry but it was hard not to while remembering everything.
“I-I was so scared…”
“Mhm.”
“I-I kept thinking… w-what if I c-can’t see you… or baby again…? I… I s-still want to do a lot of… things… w-with you…”
The way you shook in his arms like a fragile leaf made something inside him burn. He was supposed to provide you with security, give you a life far removed from curses—
Having left that warning against the higher-ups wasn’t enough, he should’ve made him beg for his life more—
“Listen to me,” Satoru said as he broke the hug, the deep frown in his grave expression made you almost sob. He gently wiped your overflowing tears with the pads of his thumbs.
“Stop thinking that. You’re alright. You’re going to get better. You and me—we are going to raise our son together.”
You took in each of his words fully, even as your lips quivered.
“And mark my words…” Right in this moment, you thought that your husband was most dashing as he gave you his promises—as his blue eyes glimmered under the light. “They won’t ever lay their hands on you ever again. Not while I’m here. Not ever. I already made sure of that.”
You were curious about what he did, but you chose not to press further when Satoru leaned in suddenly and brushed his lips against yours in a soft kiss, melting your heart into mush.
When he pulled away, it was his usual teasing grin on his handsome face. “Now, I only have one duty left— that is to get my cute wife back on her feet. So, be a good little wifey and have lots of fruits and sleep, okay?”
You giggled freely this time, feeling tremendously safe and loved, and instead of answering, you chose to peck his lips instead— hoping that he’d know that you trusted him with your whole life.
. . .
“By the way… Satoru, where’s our baby?” you missed your pumpkin, and while being with your funny husband lifted your spirits, you wanted to cuddle him too.
He chuckled in response. “Ah! Since Megumi is on an assignment, I left him with Ichiji earlier! Don’t worry, I’ll come pick him up soon, ‘kay?”
Epilogue
“I’m going out for a bit, and if you ever make him upset or cry… I can and I will sense it! So Ichiji—do your best!”
“Bwa…”
“Eeek!”
Ichiji stared at Baby Gojo with literal sweat on his forehead, as the little being curiously looked up at him.
By all means, this baby was adorable. Even more so when his father dressed him in a shark onesie. It was a peculiar choice—just like any of Gojo’s choices were—but it sure made the baby look even more endearing.
But the thing is… he didn’t feel secure enough to hold him! Especially when he didn’t know if Gojo’s claim of telepathic connection with his son was true or not!
Amidst his thoughts, suddenly Ichiji felt a soft touch on his arm and immediately turned to find the little munchkin putting his little hand on him and staring at him with such pureness unbefitting of Gojo Satoru’s son.
How can this baby be a stark contrast to his father? Ichiji was almost tempted to snuggle him, but he knew better.
“O-oh… d-don’t touch me…”
And as he retracted his hand back, the baby suddenly widened his eyes, feeling betrayed apparently, as his little lips wobbled and face scrunched up, so ready to burst into tears—
“Hic…”
“—!! Nooo! Don’t cry! Your father will fry me! Eeek!!”
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Breathe: Part 2 (Final Part)
Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Two-Part Fic
Read Part 1 here.
Summary: Bucky shows you what it's like to not be able to breathe. It's how you make him feel every time you risk your life, after all, it's only fair for you to feel the same way for once.
Warnings: profanity, enemies to lovers type vibe, oral sex (male receiving), maybe breath play??, dirty talk, fingering, mutual pining.
Word Count: 3.1k
A/N: I've been super busy over the last few weeks and truly haven't had the time to write, even when I've had the motivation to. With the things I've experienced this month I'm honestly on the brink of branching into writing angst. To briefly trauma dump, having someone scream and beg you to save a life that is hours beyond saving can really push a girl to write angst. Anyway, I should be able to write a lot more in the coming weeks and I'm excited to interact with you all again.
If Bucky was thinking straight, he wouldn’t have the image of his flesh hand fisted in your hair flashing through his mind right now. He wouldn’t be thinking about kissing and sucking along the side of your neck as your hands work to unbuckle his belt and undo his pants. If he was thinking straight, he sure as hell wouldn’t be about to give you exactly what you asked for.
Show me what it’s like.
What what’s like?
Not being able to breathe.
The tense exchange is on replay in his head as he looks at you with a hardened gaze. The tip of your index finger grazes over the skin of his lower stomach, just above his belt, as you stare back at him. Why did you ask for it? He can’t help but wonder within himself, why did you ask for some filthy variation of his cock in your mouth? Does it have anything to do with him? Or is he simply the only one around to give you one last adrenaline rush before you’re benched indefinitely? Does he even care?
Your fingertips slip more fully under the hem of his shirt and you trace one of his v-lines with the same finger that was previously lingering along his belt. Bucky takes a deep, steady breath as another image flashes through his mind. He imagines his hand tangled in your hair as you hollow your cheeks and take every fucking inch of his cock into your goddamn mouth. In this moment, he doesn’t care if you’re only willing to suck his dick in want of an adrenaline rush or whatever the fuck else is driving you right now. All he cares about is showing you how you make him feel every single time you rush out into the field, ready to get yourself killed. All he cares about is showing you what it’s like when your lungs are starved of air and you can’t catch a full breath. He’s going to fucking show you.
“Take it off.” Bucky’s voice comes out low and commanding in a way that has tingles running down your spine in an instant. As bold as you felt when you asked him what you asked him just a moment earlier, you find yourself suddenly unsure.
“What?” Your hand falters against his skin. Does he want your hand off? Bucky senses your hesitation and his flesh hand quickly finds yours and guides it back down to the buckle of his belt.
“My belt. Take it off.” Again, your hand falters. Bucky isn’t thinking at all when he lifts his own hand and lets his palm conform to the curve of your jaw, when his thumb gently brushes over your cheek. He has every ounce of your attention now. Your hands start working on autopilot, pulling the end of his belt through its loop and undoing the buckle with ease. Bucky’s thumb continues circling against your cheek, his eyes lingering on your face as you undo the button of his pants and grasp the zipper between your thumb and forefinger. “You listen so well when your life isn’t on the line.” He says, almost disappointedly. But then again, if you listened to orders in the field like everyone else, the two of you probably wouldn’t be where you are right now. When you start to tug his zipper down, he quickly places a hand over the back of yours and stops you.
Your fucking eyes. The way you’re looking at him right now, with that damn innocent look in your eye like you’ve never touched a man’s zipper before, is doing unholy things to him. Bucky can feel his cock hardening to an uncomfortable degree, and he knows you can feel it too with where your hand is resting right now.
“Maybe you should take advantage of that.” You whisper softly. Bucky narrows his eyes at you.
“Of what?”
“How well I listen when my life isn’t on the line.” A small smile plays on your lips and Bucky finds it simultaneously infuriating and undeniably attractive. His eyes coast away from your face and down your arm, all the way to where your hand rests beneath his on his zipper. He catches sight of the hair tie you removed from your hair earlier still tight around your wrist. Letting his hand fall away from yours, his signature smirk takes over his features.
“Tie your hair back.”
You never knew Bucky Barnes held so much power over you.
He can’t stop staring at you, studying you as you do exactly what he asked. As you tie your hair back, he can feel the tension growing all around him. He takes it on himself to pull the zipper of his jeans down, but he doesn’t dare to do any more than that. He wants you to do it yourself. He wants to see your hands, that are so small in comparison to his own, doing everything he tells them to. Bucky’s eyes fixate on the skin of your neck, and though he has a plan in mind that doesn’t involve his mouth on you, he can’t help it. In an instant, his flesh hand tangles in the hair that you’ve just tied back and he’s pulling you closer. Every soft drag of his lips against your skin sends more and more heat straight to your core. His tongue darts out from between his lips and wets your skin before he dares to let his teeth join the equation. The first mark he leaves on you draws a sharp gasp from you. The second mark earns him an irresistible whimper. But the third? With the third mark to your neck, you moan his fucking name.
When Bucky lets go of his grip on your hair and moves his seat away from the steering wheel just a moment after the first moan that he heard fall from your lips, you both know you’ve reached a place of no return. When you tug his jeans down a little further and slide one hand into the front of his boxers, something in the air snaps. Your hand wraps around his length, barely able to contain the entirety of his girth, and his head falls back against the headrest of his seat.
“Shit.” The hushed profanity tumbles past his lips as if he didn’t even mean to let it out. Without freeing him from the confines of his boxers, you give his length one stroke. Fuck. He’s big. He’s so big that you think you might’ve underestimated just how easy it would be for him to show you what it’s like to not be able to breathe. You stroke him from base to tip again and feel his precum gathering against your palm. When you do it a third time, his head snaps forward and you feel his hand in your hair again, tugging your head back so you’re forced to look him in the eye. “I can’t fucking stand you.” He says pointedly as your hand continues to move at a torturously slow pace along his shaft. You circle your thumb around the head of his cock and feel him shudder in his seat.
“I can’t fucking stand you either.”
“Then why the hell is your hand on my cock?” He taunts as his stare pierces somewhere deep within you. You say nothing in response, but you stroke his length from base to tip again, slower this time. “You can’t stand me but you’re going to suck my dick, aren’t you?”
Bucky notices the way your grip around him falters, the way you squeeze him a little tighter before your hand slightly loosens around his shaft. He can fucking smell your arousal soaking into your panties. He’s a pleasantly surprised when you decide to take initiative and tug the waistband of his boxers down enough to free his cock. It springs up against his lower stomach and you watch in awe as he pulls his shirt up enough to showcase his toned abs and keep precum from wetting the fabric.
“Oh my god.” You breathe the words out slowly as your eyes take in the reality before you. Just like you thought, he’s big. You could tell when you had your hand on it, but seeing it right in front of you? Even in the dim light of the supermarket parking lot, you can tell you might be in over your head. While you’re thinking you might be in over your head, Bucky’s thinking about how he’s going to enjoy holding your head down.
---
“That’s it, take another deep breath for me.” Bucky says, smoothing back your hair as he memorizes every single inch of your flushed face. You wet your bottom lip with your tongue and maintain eye contact with him as you do just that. You inhale a deep, steady breath just as he guides your head down again. His thick cock slides between your parted lips, glides over your tongue, and nudges against the back of your throat for the third time. “Fuck, just like that.” You still have a couple of inches left to take but you resist, your eyes fluttering closed as you gag around his length. Who would’ve thought choking on Bucky Barnes’ dick would be so fucking pleasurable? “All of it.” Bucky says lowly, pushing your head down enough to make you take the last two inches. He bottoms out in your mouth and a groan is ripped from his chest, making his shaft vibrate against your tongue. You moan around him and he suddenly curls his fingers into your hair and pulls you back. You’re ready for him to say something infuriating, something that’ll make you want to punch out his perfect teeth but deepthroat him all at the same time. It’s what he does best honestly.
“If you keep pulling me back, we’re going to be here all night.” Even with the taste of his precum on your tongue and his hand fisted in your hair, you’re talking shit. Bucky studies you with a menacing gaze, his eyes traveling over the features of your face slowly as he chooses his words carefully.
“I told you that I can’t fucking breathe when you do stupid shit, and you asked me to show you what that feels like.” He reminds you, narrowing his eyes. You nod in response. “Squeeze my thigh if you can’t handle it.” Before you’ve even processed the instructions, Bucky’s pushing your head down again and forcing his cock into your mouth. This time, he’s forceful and needy with it. He’s doing exactly what he said and showing you what it’s like to not be able to breathe.
Up and down Bucky drags your head by his grip on your hair. Up and down along the length of his sizable cock, reveling in the feel of your tongue against his shaft and your throat tightening around whatever he gives it. Your lungs are burning. Your eyes are watering.
“You feel that? That burning in your chest?” He asks, pushing your head down again and holding it still this time. “That’s how I feel every time you try to do shit on your own, every time you risk your life for no goddamn reason.” He holds you there for another second, until he feels a tear drip onto his upper thigh. When he lets you up for air this time, the look on his face is a mix of lustful and gentleness. He wipes your watering eyes with the pad of his thumb, admiring the fucked-out look on your face as you fight to catch your breath. “You take me so well.” Bucky coos. At this point you might as well not even be wearing any panties, because you can feel your wetness soaking through to your jeans.
When you’ve just nearly caught your breath, Bucky gives you a small nod before guiding you down again, gentler this time.
“Your head is spinning, isn’t it? The lack of oxygen makes it hard to think straight.” He’s right. All you can focus on is the wetness between your legs and the way the head of his cock keeps triggering your gag reflex in an unexpectedly enjoyable way. Does he know you’re enjoying this every bit as much as he is? Does he know that you’re wishing he’d done this to you when you were on your knees in that upstairs office earlier? As your head spins and the taste of his still-dripping precum lingers in your mouth, you imagine what it might’ve been like if those men had busted into the room when you were on your knees for the man with the vibranium arm. You squeeze your thighs together and surprise both yourself and Bucky when you nudge your head forward, letting your nose brush against his thigh as you take impossibly more of him into your throat. Bucky lets out a guttural groan and presses his head back into the headrest once more as he fights to maintain control over the situation. He’s just about to let you up for air when he hears a strangled whimper and then feels your body shaking over his lap. He’s quick to take his hand off of your head, thinking you’ve fully run out of breath, but you don’t sit up like he’s expecting. Instead, you start bobbing your head up and down, sucking his dick like it’s all you’ve ever wanted to do. “Shit, baby.” Baby? You’re deepthroating him of your own volition now, taking in as much of his length as you can and then backing off, doing that over and over again as he trembles in his seat. “You’re gonna make me cum if you don’t let up, shit.” He groans, cautiously letting his hand rest on the back of your head again.
Bucky isn’t the one starved of oxygen and yet he finds himself unable to think straight. He doesn’t realize he’s tugging the tie out of your hair until it’s done. He doesn’t even realize he’s sliding your hair tie over his own wrist, his subconscious mind planning to keep it as a souvenir. What he does realize, is that you’re as close to your own orgasm as he is. It’s why he doesn’t think twice about sliding his flesh hand from your head, down your spine, and into the waistband of the back of your jeans. His touch doesn’t surprise you, but it spurs you on. His fingers dance over the wet fabric of your panties, testing the waters as you suck his dick with a newfound fervency. When he pushes the pointless fabric to the side and plunges a single finger into your cunt without warning, you take as much of his length into your mouth as you can and then you fucking swallow around him.
“Fuck, you like sucking my dick, don’t you? Look at you swallowing my cock, taking all of it so easily.”
Bucky adds a second finger to your dripping cunt, sliding them in to the hilt as you clench around him. When you moan around his cock, he can’t stand it anymore. He’s quick to pull his fingers out of you and grip your hair tightly, pulling you off of his cock. You take a deep breath, hating that he stopped you but thankful for the chance to breathe normally for a second.
“When you moan like that…fuck. I almost—”
“How am I supposed to swallow your cum if you keep fucking pulling me off?” You ask, your annoyance evident in your tone. Bucky’s eyes widen but his grip on your hair remains the same.
“Is that what you want to do? Swallow my cum?”
“Bucky…” You let his name roll off of your tongue in a whisper as you lean in close to his face and wrap one hand around his throbbing hard-on. “Let me swallow.”
---
All Bucky can think about is the way you kissed him. The way you swallowed every drop of cum he spilled into your mouth and then sat up and pressed your lips to his, the way you dragged the tip of your tongue over his bottom lip before sinking back into the passenger seat has been burned in his brain for the last three days. For the last three fucking days.
He stands with his back against the cool metal of the elevator wall, staring down at the black hair tie on his wrist. He hasn’t taken it off once, he can’t.
You sit in front of your vanity, running your fingers over the fading marks on your neck. Is it wrong to wish he’d left you with some kind of permanent reminder of that night in the car? Is it wrong to hate that the marks he left will be gone soon?
---
You were supposed to be meeting with Fury. You assumed that meant Fury alone, until you found yourself seated right across from Bucky Barnes. You’re two feet away from the man that had his fingers inside of you three days ago, two feet away from the man whose cum you swallowed like it was a cold drink of water on a hot summer’s day. You hadn’t expected to interact with him again after that night. You were benched, after all, your partnership indefinitely suspended with you being taken out of the field.
When Fury walks in moments later, breaking the thick tension that was beginning to suffocate you both, what he says changes the dynamic entirely.
Not only is he putting you back in the field, but he expects you and Bucky to spend a week undercover in the lowest place on Earth: Madripoor. A week together.
When Fury leaves the two of you sitting in the conference room, the tension returns at full strength, swirling around the room and threatening to suck the air out of your lungs. It comes to a head when Bucky’s about to speak, about to say anything he can think of to break through the thick cloud in the atmosphere. He leans forward and rests his arms on the table, opening his mouth to say something, and that’s when you see it. Your hair tie from that night, wrapped around his wrist. His eyes follow the line of your gaze until you’re both looking at the seemingly insignificant piece of elastic.
But it isn’t insignificant.
Bucky Barnes is wearing your hair tie on his wrist, and he has been for three days now.
When your eyes meet again, that familiar warmth begins to build low in your stomach.
Tie your hair back.
He’d said it so authoritatively and you’d listened so willingly. Neither of you is aware that the other is thinking about the same thing.
The next time Bucky wants your mouth around his cock, he’ll be tying your hair back himself.
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#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x you#the winter soldier#winter soldier
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i so desperately want to write a dark romance with the concept of consuming as a form of intense, obsessive yet ominously beautiful, love with trueform sukuna.
i want him to love reader so much that he almost wants to literally eat her, and i want her to see it not as something to be terrified of, but to accept and recognise that his desire to devour you is not out of malice, but rather, something of adoration...
his mad infatuation would reveal itself in many, many forms. just by simply looking at you, his eyes darken, and his gaze seems to poke and prod at your soul, constantly analysing and soaking the sight of you into his memories. the way all four of his hands touch you, his searing hot palms smoothing over you, littering deep bruises across, claiming your skin as his canvas, embedding marks that indicate his presence in all and every way possible.
how his lips possessively captures yours, tongue twisting around in your mouth - sukuna kisses you with a type of hunger that goes unmatched by anybody else-- his engagements with you are all-consuming, meaning that he doesn't let you get a moment to think about anything else, too pre-occupied with his flames that lick up at your flesh, threatening to burn you down to cinders with its intensity, unmerciful. and when his teeth sinks in, a cry escapes your throat - a cry that isn't pleading for help, but is pleading for more.
sukuna's adam's apple would bob up and down as he swallows dryly, enduring another night of wishing to absolutely devour you whole, and leave nothing of you behind. it certainly doesn't help that you encourage him, egg him on.
he mustn't- he mustn't- he mustn't--
for who will comfort him from the loneliness that would follow, if he loses you to himself?
he satiates his aching desires by lapping up your honey-sweet blood from your inflicted bite wounds, addicted to your unique, intoxicating flavour.
you smile deliriously, like a madwoman, helplessly enamoured by sukuna's dangerous, distorted, yet an undeniably powerful form of his love.
Masterlist
#sukuna x reader#jjk x reader#sukuna#sukuna smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#ryomen sukuna#sukuna x y/n#this is something like a warm up... im trying to get myself to write more gaahhhh#anyway he occupies my mind 24/7 i just dont like bringing my thoughts to reality :(#maybe i'll post some old story ideas i had in headcanon form again as a starter?
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BLOOD FEUDS, ANCIENT AND MODERN | RYOMEN SUKUNA.
✮ tags ; no curses au, blood incest, use of honorifics (oji-san) abuse (mostly verbal / emotional), classism, grooming / generally predatory behavior, large age gaps (20+ yrs), blood feuds, imbalanced power dynamics, white collar crime, afab + fem!niece!reader, uncle sukuna, the word rape used in text, non/dubcon (not noncon necessarily), fingering, petnames (little one, kid, little lamb), thigh-fucking, and other things, very horrible and gross sukuna behavior 18+
this is very dark and it deals BRIEFLY with sukuna being very predatory to reader when she's UNDERAGE / young. nothing explicit happens WHILE she is underage, but sukuna does leer at reader and it is mentioned. please proceed with caution !!!
PLEASE HEED THE TAGS BEFORE YOU PROCEED!!!
✮ wc ; 10.3k (???????????)
✮ a/n ; thank you vic @saintshigaraki for always indulging my nonsense and also tomfoolery. kissing you.
i'll be honest lads this one got away from me BAD jksdfhjs. i think its interesting at least.I KNOW THE TAGS ARE WICKED but i promise its like. kind of sexy at least.
also yes the title is from the rdr2 soundtrack shhh
✮ synopsis ; blood is thicker than water. resentment, you think, is thicker than both.
Bastard.
An intimately familiar title, lacking tooth and effect. It's meaning eroded with time and usage - and a moniker you've wielded proudly for as long as you can remember. You don't recall much of your life before it became part of you.
The daughter born of wedlock. Bastard daughter. The only remaining stain to your family's reputation aside from your late father.
Your mother often tells you that you were her hardest child to birth. When you were littler it was a story relayed to you with affection, and but now it's with such bitter hatred you can feel it lodged in your throat.
The most important element is the predestination in it. You came into the world kicking and screaming, throat hoarse and violent. From birth, you knew you were half-forged with bad blood and came into the world trying to be absolved of it. It's shaped your life, your relationships, everything about you.
The other half of your DNA, the good half, is from your father. Before you were a bastard, you were your parents' only child. Your father was a good man. The best you know. An average, humble man. From a generation of other working class men with a tough job in construction. Your best memories come from when he was still alive.
A quiet life, untainted by the residual bitterness of your mothers heritage. You lived away from it, outside of it. The mother in your memories from back then seem like a dream now, some mirage from long ago - disinterested in anything but you and your father. Your mama and papa. Your father took good care of you both, and your mother loved him madly.
You lived as a normal family in a small apartment just outside of Gifu for the first seven years of your life. You attended a small local school and had friends with crooked teeth and messy hair.
Your childhood was mostly happy if you break it up into pieces like that. Blissfully uneventful.
There's a concise break of change of what your life was versus what became of it. Your fathers death the splinter in the wood, separating the two halves.
The worst of your childhood, of course, came in your fathers passing. Not just because of the loss, but what it made of your life. His funeral welcomed people of all walks of life with the most notable absence of your elusive mothers side of the family.
Another old memory you have with your mother is looking at her face during your fathers wake. The deep darkness of her eyes, sunken in and hollow. The first time you ever found her terrifying instead of comforting. While the world mourned your father, your mother—you think—mourned her life.
Forced into single motherhood with no prospects and no career, your mother decided it was best for the both of you to return home.
You think the worst of your life started there.
Your mother's side of the family has never welcomed you with open arms. You wouldn't come to know why until much later. You were a child then. There's no way you could've known about feuds that deep.
The only thing you knew was that you were hated vehemently, and nothing could change that.
Your grandmother's estate was always frightening to you in your childhood. You've yet to grow out of that feeling despite living there for the last fifteen years. It's remained unchanged since you moved in and the lights in the hall never seems bright enough. Jade green painted walls and white tile floors. Some rooms have classically Japanese flooring and heirloom paintings from the Heian era. Others modernized with sterile whites and grays and house plants that add no life to it at all. Stretched wide with tens of rooms, and easy for a child to get lost in.
A sinking abyss. A terrible place. A dark labyrinth. Anxiety inducing to even think about now. No place for a child your size or your age.
The best way to describe your childhood after your father died was cold. Removed from your life in the suburbs and placed among other rich kids, you became overtly self-conscious of the differences between you and them. Them being anyone who grew up wealthy and your other extended family. You were constantly reminded of your place as the bastard child. Later learning how your mother left her fiance many years ago for your father, your poor and worthless father.
(You theorize any warmth that your mother had for you was buried in your dead dads casket. Living there, among them, made sure she'd never find it again.)
Your mother is the most complicated part of your life. You don't have a time for when she gave up on raising you. There was a year when she tried, you think. For the most part, you lived in that house utterly alone.
At first that abandonment was miserable (as it would be to any child, certainly) but a time came where you were glad you saw so little of her.
Your mother, who you had once loved and thought highly of, became a pitiful prey animal in the four walls of your grandmother's house. Small and anxious and utterly hateful. A bunny born with some cosmic knowledge and horrific understanding that its destiny is to become food for a wolf. Viciousness between her siblings, no doubt fostered by your grandparents and their establishment, tore apart the aspects of her your father mended and ruined her. You were too little to stop it.
Blood feuds that ran bone-chillingly deep plagued most of the interactions with your extended family for as long as you've been a part of them. Your mother has exactly four siblings. Two sisters between her with her as the middle daughter, and two brothers. One of which is estranged so completely you don't know his name.
And the other being your Uncle Sukuna.
Your hatred for your aunts and their children came to you rather naturally. For every gala and ball and charity fund your worthless bloodline ever raised, came catty arguments and verbal abuse from the shallow mouths of your beloved cousins. You had nothing to prove to anyone in that house. You were detested since your birth and your grandparents made no small effort to show you through as much neglect and verbal lashing as they could get away with.
Rotten girl. Cursed daughter. You're the reason your mother is like this. You're the reason she is miserable. You should've been buried with your father.
Compared to the experience of your grandfather ripping into you at age ten for simply being alive, your cousin's commentary on you was remarkably uninteresting. You resented them for being nuisances, though, with the exception of maybe one who bucked it out of that place as soon as they could. Just like you planned too.
For a long time, Sukuna wasn't around enough to have a real presence in your consciousness. You tried not to think of your extended family more than you had too. You got used to not knowing about your relatives living there, but there was no one so elusive as him.
It was as if, increasingly, you heard whispers of his name at everything you were forced to attend.
The first time you ever meet your Uncle, you're freshly sixteen. It's the birthday party your mother throws for you each year in an effort to show how close the two of you are to the rest of your relatives.
The first time you see Sukuna in person, the only thing on your mind is how much he stands out from the rest of your relatives. He's a head taller than the tallest person there, and he's...bigger. He's not clean or neat, scruff lining his chin. Old, dark eyes. Visible tattoos that reek of disgraced son and hardly of prodigy.
At sixteen, you understood intimately what your family considered to be gold standard. Your uncle was antithetical to it. His very existence a paradox to the ideas you've had been hammered into you for years. Dyed hair, piercings, tattoos - his suit jacket undone to expose his chest. Lacking respect and formality and dignity.
He was a lot like you. You got that impression, somehow.
When your eyes met with your uncles for the first time, you had your second fully formed thought about him.
Dangerous. Like an alarm. Like a ringing bell, throbbing through your skull and pulsing through your teeth. Some part of you just knew that he was a very dangerous man. Not just a wealthy one.
The first conversation you ever had with your uncle proves to be the most significant. Brief, yet - tonal in all ways. The gold standard for how he viewed you. How he would view you.
How he would treat you.
("So you're the new brat,"
Your uncle is an imposing man. You are sixteen and slightly tipsy, which is the least horrible thing you could be since your other cousin is coked out in the bathroom upstairs. You sway, staring at him. You think that's disrespectful.
He's the kind of man who might kill you for that. Might hit you. But you don't find it in yourself to challenge your defiance when you're far from sober and even father form happy. You lean your weight to one side and hum.
"New bastard," You correct him, and take another sip of the flute of champagne in your hand. "My worthless fathers, worthless daughter."
Sukuna pauses, his eyes widening before his lips break out into a grin. You wonder if it's because you're drunk. You think he's staring at you. Your eyes are too blurry to tell but you think he's gazing down the low dip of your top. At the curve of your chest. Leering at the body you've yet to even grow into.
"Tenacious," Your uncle says, and takes a long drink of his sake. You stare at the edge of his glass, carmine eyes gazing so deeply at you - you think you'll throw up. "You're your mothers daughter. Through and through.")
The night of your sixteenth birthday, your uncle announced he'd be opening a business venture in Tokyo. All this time he'd been doing work overseas, but seeing family helped finalized his decision. You remember the look on his face when he announced it. Remembered his eyes searching on you through the crowd as he held the mic up to his lips. How he named you the main reason, one conversation and he grew so fond of his little niece. That you were a clever girl, and that even though he hadn't known you long - he was sure you'd go so far.
Happy Birthday to you, little lamb.
You remember best the feeling afterwards. How the crowd went nearly silent. Hundreds of eyes darting your way in seas of strangers. All the attention people hadn’t paid suddenly mattering, all the congratulations. You remember how they crowded you and how your uncle came to your rescue with a cheeky grin and air of nonchalance.
You remember feeling sick. You remember the chill creeping up your spine, bile in your throat - all wet eyes and nausea.
Your uncle is a dangerous man. And you, the uninteresting bastard daughter, had caught his full attention.
The next four years of your life would pass so slowly, you often wondered during them, if you died that night and you'd live through these days as punishment for the crime of existing.
A little after your birthday, your uncle moved back to Japan permanently - in a residence not far from your grandmother's estate. He became a permanent fixture in your life. Many things came with that reality, none of them being especially pleasant.
You learn three things in the four years you spend with your uncle in your life.
The first is that your uncle is more powerful than you can really understand.
Through conversations at your kitchen table about his escapades abroad, you learn nothing of the work he actually does. Only what it involves, who it involves - foreign governments and people much more powerful than your family. Your uncle has ties to the Gojo family, and the Zenins'. Your time here teaches you that they make up two halves of private militarized arms and they work domestically and internationally. The only thing you need to know about them is they are filthy rich, richer than your own family and twice as corrupt.
And Sukuna works with them. Knows them rather intimately, from the pictures you've seen of Sukuna and Gojo Satoru drinking together - two prodigal sons with silver spoons and unsettling demeanors.
The second thing you learn is that your uncle's power and influence extend past all borders and include your grandparents and relatives. In the years he'd been away from home, he's garnered a formidable reputation. You never cared to notice it before, but it's all you can see now. Every arrogant, vapid relative you have the displeasure of calling family sees your uncle as some sort of king. The golden ticket to grandparents approval. A wishing well for all their hopes and dreams - so long as they appease him.
They fawn over him. Sukuna knows it. But they're all so busy trying to get on his good side they never catch his subtleties. Never seem to notice the cold sarcasm and biting edge to his questions. They pander and peacock to him constantly, but not one of them has sense enough to understand him a little deeper. Except you, incidentally. That's part of your problem
The third thing you learn about your uncle is that he takes pleasure in your cleverness no one in your life has since.... who knows? Since your father died, you think.
And you are clever. A head smarter than the rest of your family and a try-hard in all aspects. You graduated highschool top of your class and got scholarships into better schools. It was never about proving your worth of course, but about survival. You wanted away from this place, and the only way to cut your ties completely is to carve a life for yourself. Academia, education, using your name to make connections - you've been working silently on it since you were in middle school.
The only person who'd ever noticed your accomplishments was Sukuna. In between his work, he'd visit you in your room. You grew close in one sense of the word. It was a secret kept between you - but Sukuna often reminded you of it. That he saw you for who you were when no one else did. That his interest in you exceeds your own understanding, and it'd be in your best interest to remember that.
Some half-way between threats and affection, for four years - your uncle remained at your side. Uneasy as you were, he'd never try to advance on you while you were still in highschool. Some part of you knew he wasn't above it. Rather his interest hinged on getting to know you.
Your uncle is above all things manipulative.
Rather he preferred to keep you on your toes during the duration of your time together. To get close but not too close. To get to know each other openly. Your uncle made sure everyone in your family knew of his fondness for you. He'd keep you close to his side or follow you around, always in public places with a million eyes. He'd whisper to you, laughed and asked questions.
You hated being the center of attention, so Sukuna turned it on you any chance he got. It made it hard for you to refuse him, but mostly it made it hard to go under the radar without his protection. It made it hard for your relatives to insult and berate you.
You hated it. You hated accepting his kindness, because you know your uncle well enough to know that everything in the world came with a cost. And that this protection is little more than luxury, promised to you as long as you played nice.
And you always did play nice. But you were cautious. Never alone too long in the same room. Never somewhere too late. Never drunk, never high. Always within distance of a door. Sukuna was a dangerous man, and you may be a bastard but you're no fool.
It'd work for years. You evaded any real alone time with him for years. Years.
Until earlier this year where your mother had made arrangements for you to spend the summer with your dear old Uncle - in his villa, far from the safety of Japan's main island.
In the years of your uncle's favoritism towards you, no one has been more pleased than your mother. You've come to hate her for it. Your relationship hasn't been good in years and for her to suddenly attempt to be your mother again felt like a mockery.
(It mostly felt like a betrayal. You didn't think she could betray you a second time after she all but abandoned you the minute she stepped foot in that house.
Like something possessing the corpse of the mama in your dreams, your seething hatred towards her started then you think.)
You'd spent years indifferent to her, but it was this change that made you hate her down to your bones. You were furious about the decision. Furious she didn't bother asking, furious about all of it.
About everything.
An entire summer alone with the man you know to be most dangerous to you. You wouldn't put it past Sukuna, to plan this around you - but it didn't make it any less frustrating.
("You'll be going with your uncle," Your mother says, hardly listening to you. There's a baby on her hip, your half-brother and a vacant look in her eyes. You feel your jaw tighten. "We've already made plans. Your stepfather,"
"Your husband." You correct. Your mother gives you a tight-lipped smile.
"We are going on a family vacation. Your grandparents wouldn't tolerate you here alone , so you're going and that's final."
"I don't need to live with you," You seethe, fighting the urge to grab her and punch her. You've never been violent. Your mother makes you homicidal. "I can find my own fucking place, I'm twenty I don't need-"
She slams something. Your half-brother makes watery eyes. She stares at you distantly, righteously angry. Whether she's earned that anger or not, it makes your mood worse. .
"This is the least you could for me. For us." She hisses, turning around. You think of killing her. "For all the shit you put me through."
"What I put you through? Fuck you," You admit, your throat burning like a star falling through the atmosphere. Then, through a shaky breath"There's something off about him, mom. Do you understand what I'm fucking saying? Where you're sending me?
Three expressions pass over her face. The ghost of grief, some kind of solace and then more vacancy. She swallows, turns around to keep folding baby clothes. Her voice trembles. She knows she's sending you to your doom. Knows what waits for you as soon as you go.
"You're going. We need this." She says, and still doesn't turn to look at you. Her voice is so frigid it doesn't sound like hers anymore. "That's final."
You shouldn't be shocked by it anymore, but it doesn't make it easier.
You slam the door on your wait out. You hope their plane crashes on the way there.)
You tried your best to worm your way out of the situation before the semester closed out. But Sukuna, three steps ahead of you at all times, made sure that wasn't possible. Your uncle owned a villa out on an island, private - and the bags had already been packed. You'll like it there, he assured you so many times, it's comfortable. There's a good view and the kids in the place will remind you of the kids you grew up with.
(It's hard not to notice the ways in which Sukuna tempts you into wanting to go. Though there's nothing, truly, that could make the experience a pleasant one - it's posed to appeal to you. A place to remind you of your childhood. You try not to think about it.)
Despite your protests, despite your vehement frustration - there was nothing you could do but go. If you didn't go with Sukuna, it'd be enduring 3 months alone with your grandparents. You could try to crash with friends but the friends you've made so far wouldn't dream of being so polite and you dare not think of burdening your childhood friends with your family problems. They deal with enough as is.
The last option was running away. You're desperate enough to entertain it. You do, several times - considering what the worst outcome could be. All scenarios end with Sukuna coming to find you, because he's crazy and connected like that. Even if he's deliberate in not displaying those parts of himself, you know his apathy to be a facade.
You know him well. He knows you well. It feels like a competition to see who can outsmart the other that you were forced into with no say.
So, come the end of your third year of college - a driver picks you up right as your finals are finished to take you to the airport. A private jet, a nauseating display of wealth just for your uncle to torment you with you're sure.
On the plane ride to a small island on the coast of Japan, you think to yourself that all gods in the world must've abandoned you before you were ever born.
__
The first few weeks of your stay in the island of Nii-jima prove to be uneventful.
For a small island, it's still governed through something related to Tokyo. It's not the city or even the country, some quiet and relaxing in between. There are people here who've lived for generations and others who are only touring. Your uncle's villa though, is far from all life - and a few miles out from a beach.
You can hardly understand what a single man needs such a big house for. There's staff there too, though less than at your grandparents place which you're grateful for. You've met six of eight, two of them people who take care of the yards and garden.
Sato-san is the woman you see most often. The one cook Sukuna has and the woman who's been working longest. She is kindhearted and sturdy, often bringing her grandchildren with her. She's quiet and motherly - and so warm you're unsure of how to behave around her. Your uncle is seemingly fond of her which is saying a lot. She speaks highly of him.
It's been so long since you've experienced something like maternal warmth, you're awkward around her. You try to not be too attached, try not to be fond of anything in this house because you know something horrible and dormant lies within it and you do not want to stay. Don't even want to entertain the idea of staying.
But Sato-san is good to you, with wrinkles and sunspots and a bright laugh. Her grandchildren are so well-behaved you wonder about how they were raised. A girl about seven and a boy about four, always quiet and inattentive. You've grown fond of them too, despite how bad you normally are with children. They're easy to be around.
You're frustrated mainly because you don't hate being here. The people are kind and welcoming and everyone locally is pleasant and good. You've been in the city too long, with insane people too long, and everything feels refreshing. The bus here is free and you can be at the beach whenever you like. You've made friends here - organically, with no strings attached. .
For the first time in your twenty years of living, you even have a guy you think is cute. It seems small, but back home everyone knows who you are. You've never had a relationship work out for one reason or another, but here? Here no one knows you, and the boy you meet at the beach with his friends is just a boy.
You don't want to like being here, but you do - and you don't want Sukuna to come back and he will. Nothing ever works out for you.
The worst of your luck you think builds on the edge of that thought.
You come home tonight doing a lot of things you would not normally.
For one, you've gotten yourself drunk. The reason being the cute boy aforementioned invited you down to the beach with his friend. You justified going thinking if you were going to be miserable all summer - a single good memory wouldn't kill you.
You had fun. Your swimsuit is underneath your short skimpy clothes, and you sat in his lap and made-out with him all evening. Got to pretend you were a normal girl and you got to kiss for the first time. You still reek of alcohol and his cheap cologne. Blissfully uneventful.
When you stumble into the foyer of the house with blurry vision and hear the T.V. playing, you know it instinctively that peace is going to be short-lived. You know that your uncle is home, and that he was waiting for you.
All the hairs on your neck raise. A shift in the atmosphere makes it hard to think clearly. Your lungs barely get enough oxygen in them to keep you upright. You think of leaving. You think of running up marble stairs to your room in hopes he won't catch you.
"Brat," Is yelled from the living room. Right, as if you'd ever get so lucky. You jump in your skin. "You home?"
Your stomach churns. You feel sick.
"Come to the living room."
You go obediently when Sukuna calls you, trying not to stumble over your two feet.You don’t think there’s more options than fearful compliance.
Your uncle is watching Scarface on the big flatscreen on the TV. The subtitles are on in Japanese though you don't think he needs them. He only barely turns his head to look at you, his interest piqued when he sees what you're wearing.
You feel sixteen again, self-conscious of your body and womanhood. He hides it even less than he did the first time - the leering. He notices your skimpy shorts and top, the bottom of your bikini. And he grins, and stares but doesn't say anything.
"Oh?" He says, calm and casual, glancing back at the T.V. "Finally went and had some fun did you? Thought all that studying turned you into a bookish little shut-in permanently."
You don't say anything, arm clutching your other self-consciously.
"Did you need something?"
He snickers, low and predatory. "Come on. You're here to spend time with me so let's spend time together."
You don’t bother asking where he’s been for the last few weeks. Your gut churns, feet heavy as they drag you to the far end of the couch. Sukuna stares as you sit hesitantly. You have no doubt he's going to make you move, but he's kind enough to leave you alone for now.
"Have fun on your..." He gives you another knowing look then laughs. "Outing?"
You aren't sure how to respond. "Just drank with some friends."
"Friends," He mimics, feeling the words out in his mouth. "The kind of friends that smudge the lipstick off your mouth, huh brat?"
You flush suddenly, embarrassed - and Sukuna barks a laugh. You don't know what he's expecting you to say there so you opt for nothing.
"Sorry," Is the only thing you can manage. Placating. He lets out a puff of air through his nose and relaxes further. There's an air to him, of nonchalance, that unsettles you more than if he was angry or unpleasant. Your throat bobs.
"You're a big girl now," He comments - sleazy and indignant. His indecency towards you, about you glints like a star. A sharp canine and piercing red eyes examine you from his peripherals. "Now that you're showing off it's only natural boys flock to you, hm?"
You can't explain the way this comment makes you feel. So much said with so little. The gap between is and has always been miles wide except sometimes it's not. Your uncle is unusual. Cold-blooded, manipulative, ruthless. There's no warmth in him in a comfortable, loving way.
There's even less of a normal relationship between you.
But you both exist in this space with... similar awareness. Of the world. Of yourselves. There's a conscious intelligence to him that's reflected in you - that you are both fractured parts of your grandparents bloodline in two separate bodies. That self-awareness affords him a presence. In your mind. In your fear.
You are undoubtedly related. Sukuna revels in that.
It’s rare to see that kind of awareness in your family. You’ve never felt threatened by people dumber than you, even if they had more power or money. Vapid and shallow and useless - there’d never been anything that could win you on. It might sound cocky, but it’s true. It’s been true.
It’s why Sukuna frightens you. He has everything, but above all - he’s smart. And hard for you to read.
You swallow, shakily - your eyes looking down at your hands. In a profoundly long beat of silence, the movie plays. A fair bit of gunshots echo through the loud speaker and they startle you.
"You scared? Come sit closer, then." He tells you, less than asks you.
You stand and sit next to him, still a distance away. Sukuna remains unmoving. You don't know what to do with yourself.The silence seems to stretch for miles and minutes. Sukuna just watches the T.V. and stares at his phone - occasionally answering messages. You stay like that for a long time.
"Need a smoke," He says, and it's not really directed at you. "Maybe later. Wouldn't wanna make you sick."
"People smoke around me all the time."
"Do you smoke?"
You shake your head, too tipsy to lie. He laughs at that. "Not even weed?"
You don't bother mentioning legality, you both know it doesn't matter between your lineage.
"Don't like the taste."
"How interesting. What a straight-edge kid. Most I've seen you get is drunk and this is the drunkest I've ever seen you. Still sober enough to talk clearly though."
"I just drink socially,"
"Ohh," He says, and then grins a little sharper. "A little shot of courage to fuck that little college boy then?"
This makes you jolt. "We didn't fuck—"
"No?" He looks genuinely surprised at this, though it's mild. "Poor kid must've wanted too if you came around him wearing that. Unless he came in his pants soon as you sat on him. Boys that age do stuff like that,"
The comment about his age reminds you of how old your uncle really is, and something in your chest flares hot.
"It wasn't that either—I've never-"
He cuts you off. "You're a virgin?"
You flush, stopping yourself from answering and he laughs.
"Ohhh, that's good. Very good," He grins, so genuinely pleased it makes you shiver. "I like virgins. Easy to please."
"That's—It wasn't for you."
For the first time in your relationship, Sukuna bridges the gap between you. He sits up and forward, his hand finding the bare skin of your knee. He rests it there, his thumb circling the flesh.
"Don't touch me," You hiss. Sukuna tightens his grip, but not threateningly. He turns to look at you that time, and you can't help but look back.
There's something in his degeneracy that horrifies you. It's fondness, you think. Genuine fondness.
"You sure?" He licks his teeth in a way that reminds you of a wolf. But not one that's starving. There's no desperation in his actions, but a self-assurance. Wolves don't often survive alone, but Sukuna has. And he hungers with the confidence of a predator who has killed all that stand before him. That's never been told no to what he wants to eat.
Your heart stops. Your voice a low whisper. "Stop,"
"You say that but you came in the house looking all desperate for sex and approval. You always look like that. Have for a little longer than what's normal for a girl your age,"
"I don't look like that!"
"You would've fucked that little college twerp if you stayed wouldn't you? Nothing wrong with honesty, brat."
Before you have a chance to understand what goes on around you, Sukuna changes position. You've never gotten a chance to feel and experience how strong he is - not like the way he's manhandling you now. You gasp at the arm around your waist and back. He pins you to the couch in a swift motion, not sure how he's done it, the alcohol making you dizzy.
Sukuna has never crossed the boundary with you like this before. Your heart is thumping loud, beating against your ribs. The source of it eludes you. If it's fear or discomfort or some other thing entirely causing such noice.
There's a certain blase in his attitude that makes you forget momentarily about the taboo and gives way just to the tension between you. You feel it for the first time with his body pressed against you, all hot and heavy. He smells of cologne, but it lacks the acidity cheap ones tend to have. There’s strong hints of cigarettes and aftershave accompanying it. Appearance wise, he has lines in his face like a man in his forties.
You don't know what's wrong with you. With a relationship so fucked up from the start, you thought crossing this line would feel different. You think you want to throw up, but you're completely calm.
You want to be disgusted. You want to thrash and kick and scream and fight. You squirm away from him, the threads of what's left of your moral conscience urging you to do so. Like a last ditch effort to keep you sane.
But there's just. Something. Something so inevitable about it that your heart doesn't beat at all. The panic itself feels hollow in nature. You are a rotted log and Sukuna has ripped the soft wood out of you with relative ease. But you’ve been that way for a long time, and nothing hurts. Not really.
It's relieving in the worst way.
"Get away from me,” You whisper again with noticeably less fight. Sukuna looks at you bright-eyed.
"You're a good kid," He says. The genuine praise knocks the air out of your lungs. That disgusts you more than anything else happening between you so far. "Interesting. A lot brighter than the other kids in our family."
Our family. You wince. .
"Stop, this is—" You don't know what word to use. He's your uncle and you're his niece and he's been gazing at you like this for god knows how fucking long. "Stop."
"You've got something going on behind your eyes at least, even if you're still just a wet-nosed and angry little housecat," He says, staring down at you. He's so imposing. His facial hair and his various tattoos. Everything about him, down to his bones. "But I can't tear my eyes away from you at the same time. You know that?."
You do know that. You cast your gaze away.
"I applaud how cautious you've been. But it didn't make a difference in the end. You know that too, right?"
You don't say anything.
"Clever little lamb you are, indeed. I like that about you." He hums, leaning down closer to you. His face is inches from yours. "You should be smart enough to know how this ends. But you know, you've been so entertaining to me this whole time I feel like I should at least be a little nice. So I'll offer you something. A deal of sorts, we can even write it on paper."
This catches your interest and he knows it does. He knows. You’re cut from the same cloth. And this place has made you lose your character, just like it always does. So if it means your survival and sanity or your morals, one comes before the other.
He grins at you.
"Come stay with me. Here in Nii-jima and back at my estate at home. I'll take care of your expenses and whatever else. I have better connections than the old hag," He says, leaning down even closer to you. You can smell him. He's intoxicating "You can be away from everything. I'll even let you have boyfriends and girlfriends over. You can throw sleepovers. I don't care. You can do whatever you want."
"What's in it for you?"
You can feel his knee press up against your cunt through your shorts and you gasp, hand going up to his shoulder. "This. Been thinking about this tight little cunt for a while now. You'd have to be at my beck and call. We'd be the closest uncle and niece in all of Japan," He snickers.
You wince at the reminder. You hate yourself for considering it. "Why me? There are plenty of women who are dying to fuck you."
He scoffs a little.
"Once we get you a little farther from the trenches kid, you might start to understand me. Wealth, fortune, fame - all of it's fucking boring. I came back to Japan prepared to leave again but you made me stay. Not much more to it than that."
"You're fucking your blood-niece out of curiosity? Your sister's daughter?"
"My sister never did anything good with her life except marrying your father and making you." Sukuna says, and laughs lightly. You hate how validated it makes you feel. Your skin crawls. "I'll have to thank her for it. She'll be pleased.
You make a face at him, uncertainty. Apprehension. Fear. Frustration. Everything you’ve been compartmentalizing comes bubbling to the surface and making your head feel weighted with lead. You want to kill everyone and everything including him. You want to run away from this place. You want to go home, though you don’t know where that would be anymore. They demolished your old apartment years ago.
You think spending a few years getting fucked and used might be less miserable than the suffocation of living with your mother and your baby brother and your grandparents. How much abuse you’ve endured already vs. what awaits you when their true heir starts to walk and talk horrifies you.
You look at him.
“You’re horrible.”
“Tell me something new.”
“I hate you. I don’t…want this. Any of this. I want to go home.”
You’re just venting. Really. You’ve made the choice already.
“Has there ever been a time where it’s been about what you want? I doubt it. But if you stay with me, appease my wishes for a while, well,” He laughs confidently. “You’ll get something, at least. Better than what you have.”
“The contract. Are you serious about that?”
He laughs at you. “Sure. If it makes you feel better, you can draft it and I’ll just have my lawyer sign. Bring your defenses. Whatever. Don’t really care as long as I get what I want.”
“And that’s me?”
“Seems like it,”
You purse your lips. It seems like a rash decision to make in the moment, but truthfully your heads never felt so clear. Even with the alcohol.
“...Fine.”
Sukuna hums when you agree. It feels anti-climatic somehow. Not that he’s not expecting your yes but that you’ve come to accept it so easily. It’s not like this takes away from the coercion, from the awful feeling of being violated. Sukuna was going to rape you whether you liked it or not. This way, at least, you get something out of it. This way it’s something you choose. Something tangible results from your inevitable doom - the fate your mother damned you to.
It affords you some plausible deniability too. In truth, you’re afraid for yourself. You’re afraid of what will happen when he finally does cross the line completely. You’re afraid you’re going to accept it, that it’s going to feel pleasurable, that years of repressing yourself will come back to make sure you never return to normalcy.
What will become of you when Sukuna has his way with you? Will you become a more apathetic version of yourself? Is it possible? Will you sober and feel like scrubbing your skin clean in the shower?
The worst outcome, you think, is nothing so horrible happening. The worst outcome is knowing you’ve fallen far enough for none of it matters at all.
Sukuna grins down at you. “What a well-behaved niece I have. Good girl. You’ll do well living with me.”
You make a displeased face at him, but your breath catches in your lungs soon after. Your uncle leans in to kiss you and you close your eyes trying to get away from it. But it’s true that your body has been burning up from the inside since you came back home - a dull throbbing between your legs turning you all kinds of stupid.
When Sukuna kisses you - your first thought is that he’s unexpectedly gentle.
You didn’t think he’d care about kissing to begin with. In your head you thought he’d tug off your shorts brutishly and fuck you without any prep. You were readying yourself for tears and pain, for screaming and crying - the sharp sobs of your own voice piercing your ears.
A gentle press of lips startles you from your drunk haze. You can feel the scruff of Sukuna’s face on your own, your arms wrapping around his neck instinctively. The taste of cigarettes and something else mildly smokey fill your mouth and make you dizzy. Sukuna tastes like kissing a man - or what you might’ve imagined that to be like. Not a boy, but a man. You feel his strength, your hands splaying at the base of his neck and feeling the faded undercut of his neck, the texture of his dyed hair. His weight shadows you, his strength making you feel fluttery.
He doesn’t tease you all during the kiss like you’re expecting. Nothing goes the way you expect. He kisses you in slow, short pecks and escalates to his tongue dipping against your lips - a little added element to his deep kisses. He kisses like he’s been doing it for longer than you have, with experience and finesse. You’re all but too conscious of everything little thing. About the sounds you make, about knowing when to breathe, about trying not to get wrapped up in the pleasant euphoria.
All you can think about is how good he is at it. Effortlessly good. You think part of you latches onto it to avoid thinking about what’s happening. Denial feels pleasurable at least.
You kiss like that for so long, your lips have swollen - sticky with spit and saliva. Sukuna has a self-satisfied smirk on his face when he pulls away from you, laughing at the flush in your expression.
You hit him lightly, looking away from his face.
“It’s a wonder you’ve kept your virginity,” He says, chuckling. “A kiss and a dirty old man like me could’ve taken it from you.”
“Shut up,” Your reply is weak. He laughs against your mouth, and you can’t get over the intimacy of it. You hope you’re deluding yourself but then he kisses the corner of your mouth. Hot, warm air tickles against your jaw and neck when he presses his lips there too and suddenly it occurs to you how real it is.
You don’t think your uncle is capable of warmth or love or anything that doesn’t come from coercion. But fondness. Maybe fondness.
He spends more time doing that than what’s comfortable. Relishes the feeling of you in his arms, his bulge grinding against your clothed cunt but not forcefully. Just with enough pressure to make you gasp once in a while when you don’t have a mind to fight it.
“I won’t take your virginity tonight,” He says declaratively. It surprises you. “You’ve got three months with me. It’d be boring. I’ll give you something else.” He looks at you then, then grins impishly. “What do you want?”
Your eyes widen, suddenly unsure of yourself. You push away, brought back to reality by the questions.
“How would I know?”
He blinks at you. “I know you said you were a virgin, but did you really mean in everything?”
You pout at him all of a sudden. “So what. I didn’t have that kind of time.”
Sukuna barks a laugh.
“Huh. I thought you were a goody two-shoes out of necessity but you really don’t do a damn thing in that house. Not even a boyfriend to do hand stuff with?”
“Ugh. No, alright? I don’t have time for that kind of thing like I just said.”
He laughs a little breathless, sitting up for a minute. You’re wondering what it means for you. Sukuna pulls you up along with him. He sits down again with his legs spread before looking at you. He pulls you into his lap with relative ease, until you’re half-way pressed into him with your legs over his thighs. You stare at him, feeling more exposed in this position. You get a closer view of his neck tattoo, realizing how far down his back it must go. You go to ask him what he’s doing - but he’s undressing you before you can.
Confident, large hands trapeze down your back as he finds the end of your overwear and pulls it off - leaving you in the microkini you wore to the beach. It barely covers your nipples. You made the choice to wear it, yet seeing Sukuna examine it so closely leaves you wallowing and regretful. Still, he’s silent as he does something similar with your jean-shorts. A hand lifting your legs up enough to roll the cheap, denim shorts and discard them right on the marble floors.
You’re still half-way over his lap - sitting on his thighs but you’re naked now.
You feel yourself growing self-conscious. Never mind that it’s the first time anyone’s seen you this naked, who exactly you’re showing it to makes you want to throw up. He stares for so long you wonder what he’s thinking, a lazy grin splitting his face. A hand nudges your thighs apart, moving your leg to give Sukuna more access to you. With an arm around your waist, his hand cups your cunt, rubbing it softly. You shift nervously. His thumb moves then, rests at the hood of your clit, pulling up to look closer at it. You hold back any noise as he examines you, bent pointer of the opposite hand brushing over the hair on your skin with a laugh.
“Unexpectedly, it’s pretty,” He says and your eyes shoot wide open. “Good job brat.”
“What are you,” You pant, your breath hitching as you close your eyes.”staring so much for it?”
“It’s mine to stare at.”
You don’t think of your uncle as particularly possessive. It’s more like he believes in that so much, so unshakingly nothing else could be true. You wonder if there’s more to it. He didn’t seem angry even after you told him about seeing a boy.
But comparing the two, Sukuna outclasses him in all ways that it should matter. He must be confident about that.
He spreads your thighs a little further. You’re half tucked into his side now - an arm around the back of his neck and shoulders. Sukuna ducks down a little, nudging his nose against your neck and scraping his teeth lightly against your throat. He doesn’t do much other than… touch you. Not directly. His other hand, the one not secured around your waist, rubs at your pussy but not in an attempt to pleasure you. It’s exploratory and intimate. He’s just touching you in a way that’s making you restless. And the angle he’s bent down, the proximity gives you a better view of him. From the side where you sit in his lap, you can see the tattoo again.
You shudder then, pussy suddenly clenching in a way that leaves you ashamed. Your uncle notices, though he doesn’t look up.
“Thought of something, brat?”
“No.” You deny, vehemently. He spanks your pussy but not hard. You jolt in reply, a shock traveling up your spine.
“C’mon now,” He hums, predatory. “Don’t lie. That’s not fun.”
“Y-your tattoo,” You say, suddenly feeling the influence of alcohol in a way you hadn’t all evening. “It’s…big.”
“Into bad boys or something, kid?”
You frown. “You look like a yakuza.”
This makes him laugh, more genuinely than you’ve ever seen him laugh. “Getting warmer, I guess.”
You don’t say anything to that. Instead spurred by the sudden confidence. “Why aren’t you…touching me?”
He looks at you surprised then tilts his head. “Is that what you want?
“I don’t want any of this but it,” You squirm again. “Feels weird.”
“Sounds like you want something, at least. Go on, tell your oji-san what you want.”
You scrunch your nose up at him, a familiar feeling of disgusting flitting through you. It fades as quickly as it comes.
“I’ve never put a-anything inside,” You admit, suddenly feeling self-conscious.
“That so,” He hums. His middle finger slides down the wet seam of your cunt as you tell him this. You nod but you don’t think he’s really listening. His hand is warm, and big - and his fingers are thicker than yours. One of yours may as well make two of his, no end to how imposing he is. You don’t protest as he starts to touch you. You simply take a deep breath, holding onto him a little tighter.
With your head turned towards him, Sukuna leans in again to kiss you. It’s deep from the beginning this time, and a little rougher. He bites lightly on your lower lips as his middle finger dips down towards your sex. Your insides are throbbing, hot and wet as you feel some friction. It’s the first time anyone else has ever held you in your life, every touched you directly like this. Against your will, your body is sensitive to the stimulus. Everywhere he touches you goes alight, and the kiss makes your tummy flutter. A tender feeling of want spreads you open, tears you apart right in front of him.
With parted lips and a heavy head, you kiss him as his middle finger dips down low enough to penetrate you. A soft gasp pulls from your throat.
It doesn’t feel unpleasant.
“I thought it was going to hurt more.” You admit, feeling him inside of you. It’s a new sensation but it’s not bad.
“It shouldn’t hurt if you’re aroused enough. And wet enough. You seem to be both.”
You frown at him, face pinching. It’s washed away quickly by the sensation of him pushing deeper. It’s hard to describe it as anything other than feeling something inside of you. Deep in a place you didn’t think it could go. You shake a little, trying to get adjusted. Sukuna does it carefully, slowly - thrusting in even strokes and keeping you focused on kissing so you’re not too conscious of it.
He’s not thoughtful, not really - but you can tell that he’s going slower for your sake and that makes your heart stammer uncomfortably. The last word you’d ever use for him is kind but he’s not being horrible and it’s unsettling you.
Once one finger goes in and out smoothly, your uncle starts to add another. You feel it that time, the stretch of it - gasping hard at the sudden sensation. Your breath catches in your lungs, hand clutching at his shoulder for purchase. He pulls away from your mouth, his breath near your ear.
“Easy, little one. Give it a minute.”
“It feels different. It’s,” You can’t form the words as two fingers penetrate you in full, slowly being eased inside of you until Sukuna is knuckle deep. Your breath hitches. “Not like it hurts.”
“It’ll feel good in a second.” He says assuredly, voice smooth and raspy against your ear. You feel combative at his confidence, but then a minute passes of him rubbing along your insides and something strikes against you like lightning. You pause, blinking confused as Sukuna laughs. “There it is,”
“There what is?”
“C’mon kid, I know you’re too busy with school but you don’t know something so basic about your own body?”
“What is it, oh.”
His other hand toys with your clit, rubbing it in slow circular motions as he gauges your reaction to the touch. You jolt from the sudden pleasure, getting used to it slowly. You didn’t realize how badly it was throbbing to be touched until he does it in full. Your mouth dries up immediately. Little shocks of electricity spark up through you as his hands go full in on your body. The combined pleasure starts to uptick, something building slowly but surely. It goes from not feeling like much to feeling like something. Feeling physical.
Your mouth drops open in sudden shock, eyes lidded as you moan unabashedly - unable to keep the sound at bay. You own a vibrator, use to cum quick and hard just to curb the feeling. You’ve had orgasms on your own but nothing has ever felt like this before. It’s undeniably satiating, mimics the feeling of eating something and nearly making yourself sick on it. You go slack-jawed, your nerves on fire.
Two fingers curled against your silken walls and another two toying at the sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs leaves little room in your brain to think. The only thing your body seems to remember is how to moan and whine - make these pathetic little noises you’ve never heard in your life. You didn’t even know you could make. Oddly enough, Sukuna is quiet through it. He makes grunts and little affirmatives but he’s mostly silent. You mostly hear the sound of your own voice.
The sound of your own wetness. You can feel the sticky sensation of your arousal but you can hear it even better. It’s lewd to listen too, wet smacks mixing with the pathetic bleats of your voice make you feel hot all over. Skin prickling with heat and sensation.
“I knew you were sensitive but haah. If I would’ve fucked you today, you would have cried.”
The thought drifts idly by about his cock and your whole lower half reacts to it by going weak. It aches just thinking about anything bigger or longer entering you than his fingers.
“Figure an insolent little kid like you isn’t much of a crybaby. I’m sure I can make you one.”
You don’t even think about asking what he means.
“Feels,” You make a gasping noise, body suddenly going tense. “Hngh, fuck. Feels so good, holy fuck.”
He groans a little. “I’m being too nice to you. I really should be balls deep in your cunt already and I’m not. You gonna cum for me, huh brat?”
You nod your head dumbly, unable to retort. To think of anything but the sensation washing over you.”Go on. Do it. Cum for your perverted oji-san.”
Something about the depravity of it sets your mind numb. Your body goes tight, every nerve firing off at once as you grip onto his shoulder and let the feeling of euphoria wash over you. Your whole body is so stimulated it’s numbing. The feeling of pleasure crashes into you, leaves your spine arching - mouth dropped open and nearly screaming. Your sanity melts, fades off completely and your brain feels like it’s gone empty. You close your eyes so hard little splashes of white show up in your vision, like you’re seeing T.V. static.
You think you scream. You don’t know. You just know that you’re cumming, hard, just from his hands and you’re terrified of what else he’s good at. You don’t think it boils down to sensitivity as the waves of your first orgasm ripple through your body.
You lay in his arms, sweaty and limp. Your vision is blurry with tears as you open them to look at him. Sukuna is rubbing your side, taking his fingers into his mouth. You look at him surprised as he does. He grins.
“Tastes good, kid.”
You flush. “Shut up.”
“Don’t think I’m done with you quite yet.”
Sukuna guides your hand to his pants, over his bulge. You gasp a little at it. His size through clothes is astounding to you.
“I’m not so generous to leave with nothing, you know.” He pats your thigh, moving you from his lap. “I’ve got a better idea than trying to teach you anything today, so try to hold still.”
You don’t know what he’s talking about until he guides you on the floor. You’re confused until you feel him position you - facing towards the couch with your knees spread on the floor. In doggy, you realize a little too late, your upper-half supported by the couch cushion. You feel more confused than you felt a moment ago.
Sukuna positions himself behind you. You can’t see him, but you can hear the soft rustle of his clothes moving as he stands on his knees behind you. More than that, you can feel his cock resting on your bare ass. You gasp, feeling the weight and size slide against your curves. Sukuna does a breathy little laugh at your reaction. He’s huge.
“Don’t cry kid. I told you I wasn’t gonna put it in tonight and I meant that,” He hums. His hands come to your hips, all of a sudden pushing them together. “Push your thighs together as tight as you can.”
You listen to him. You can do it with some effort despite how weak your body feels. You lean forward on the couch for support, bringing your knees together and pressing your thighs. You don’t understand what it’s for until something hard pressing along your spine moves down the curve of your ass. You gasp aloud as his thick cock pushes between your thighs, tip catching against your swollen clit. Your whole body is covered in goosebumps. Sukuna moans low in his throat, resting his head on your shoulder.
“Fuck, that’s it.” He hums, sounding pleased. “Keep them tight for me, alright girl? Try to at least.”
Sukuna is wordless as he grips your hips, your flesh dimpling under his bruising grip. You're silent, your voice threatening to spill again as you try your best to listen to him. You keep yourself tight and firm, your hands gripping the couch cushions as Sukuna pushes his cock between the fat of your thighs and starts a pace.
The angle makes you gasp, body feeling weak at the way it touches your clit with each bump. Sukuna doesn’t hold back at all. You’re not being penetrated but the weight behind each of his thrusts makes you feel like you’re being fucked. The bruising sensation of skin against skin - the hard muscles of his own legs smacking against the softness of your thighs.
Most embarrassing is the way the position makes you conscious of your uncle's cock. You knew he was huge before, but the way he’s thrusting. Where it reaches when he does thrust makes your throat feel nearly tight. You can’t stop thinking about the fact it’ll be inside you. You can’t imagine taking it in your hands - the girth and length of it fucking impossible. And he wants to fuck you with it? Take your virginity?
He’ll stretch you so open if he does. You can barely think of it fitting in you. When you do, your whole body shudders in a horrible and pathetic way - a new wave of arousal striking a strange chord. As he bumps and ruts against your clit and your mind fills with such lewd images, a new wave of lust starts to pour through you.
It’s unhelped by the feeling of Sukuna’s cock - getting so close. The throbbing with each thrust and the low, throaty groans he keeps vocalizing against your ear. All of it proves to be too much for you. It shocks you when you feel yourself grow hot all over again. Not even being touched directly and so soon after your first - a mere few minutes.
And you find yourself with all your muscles tight, your hand reaching back for Sukuna as you plant your face against the cushions and let him fuck hard between your thighs. You feel incoherent, stupid and so fucking horny. You’ve never experienced it. You can’t think of what to moan, so you choose his name.
This makes him laugh as he bends over you, his teeth biting your shoulder blades.
“Gonna cum again from this brat? Aren’t you fucking easy? Come on, cum with me. Just like that, take it. Fuck, that’s it. Good. Good girl.”
It’s the last bit of tension that pushes you over the edge, whether you care to admit it. Your voice breaks as a second orgasm washes through you - more intense but much shorter than the first and you nearly fall limp. You only barely manage to hold yourself up as your uncle keeps thrusting relentlessly.
You can feel him twitch hard between your thighs when his orgasm finally hits. You shake as you feel him squish the tip between your thighs - hot ropes of cum spurting against the swollen mound of your cunt and dripping down your thighs as he finishes. He smacks your ass as he finishes, making you yelp. Your whole body is rife with exhaustion, finally coming down from high-highs and low-lows.
“We’re gonna have a lot of fun together for the next few months kid,” He says, almost affection in his words. You’re too exhausted to reply, looking at him over your shoulder. “Let’s get along and do our best.”
“You’re a sick-fuck, oji-san.”
“And you’re a whole lot like me, aren’t you kid?.”
#sukuna x reader#jjk x reader#sukuna smut#jjk smut#writing tag#dark content cw#incest cw#dubcon cw#abuse cw#grooming cw#<- kind of sort of not really hes just gross.#THIS HAS SO MANY TRIGGER TAGS .. SORRY
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From the start | LN4 x Reader
Summary - Reader and Lando have been best friends for years, but reader slowly develops feelings for him, and didn’t want to tell him in fear that he wouldn’t feel the same and it would ruin their friendship forever, so she releases a song indirectly telling him everything, not knowing he’d always felt the same.
Warnings - Swearing
Type - SMAU
FaceClaim - Laufey
Requested - yes - no
Yourusername
Liked by - LandoNorris, GracieAbrams and 4,927,290 others - Posted 01.02.24
Yourusername - Studio sesh 😙
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User1 - OMG OMG OMG OMG
User2 - DOES THIS MEAN NEW MUSIC SOON ?!??!?
GracieAbrams - 💛
Yourusername - 🤍
User3 - She’s so adorable
User4 - Y/n I need whatever you made in that studio like right now pls
User5 - Oh Y/n I fear I can already tell you’ve ate
LandoNorris - HELLO WHY DIDNT I KNOW OF THIS ?
User6 - the first time she hasn’t told Lando something
Yourusername
Liked by - LandoNorris, TaylorSwift and 5,100,104 others - Posted 20.02.24
Yourusername - Surprise !!!!!!! My brand new single, ‘from the start’ is out right now! Along with its music video, written and directed by yours truly 😙 this song is unlike anything I’ve ever released before, it’s a complete and true raw reflection of all of my emotions, and I hope you love it like I do. I love you, enjoy 🤍
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User7 - OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG
User8 - KNEW Y/N ERA INCOMING
User9 - THIS SONG IS EVERYTHING WHAT
User10 - The music video is so fun and goofy but somehow so deep at the same time, I love it sm 😭
User11 - Y/N WHO IS THIS ABOUT
User12 - FR SAME
User13 - YES LIKE, WHOS GOT OUR GIRL WRITING WHOLE ASS LOVE CONFESSIONS
User14 - Literally my new favourite song
User15 - Okay this is so about Lando
User16 - Girl what ?😭
User17 - I see their point, the lyrics point to all things that they’ve said about their friendship
User18 - Like what? 😭
User19 - Like ‘Listening to you harp on 'bout some new soulmate "She's so perfect, " blah, blah, blah’ Y/n has said so many times that sometimes Lando just sits there and says everything about the new girl he’s talking too and it bores her to death, I’d say that’s good enough proof 😭
Y/n.Nation
Liked by - User20, LandoNorris and 83,290 others - Posted - 23.02.24
Tagged | @/Yourusername
Y/n.Nation - Y/n was the guest on the Jimmy Fallon show last night !!!! She debuted from the start with its first ever live performance, then done her interview where she revealed that her new hit is about someone very very close and personal to her, her words were-
“From the start for me, is like a one of those letters that people write and throw into the fireplace just to get their emotions out there, but instead of writing a letter and throwing it into a fire I wrote a song and gave it to my fans. Which for me is kind of the same thing, they’re incredibly supportive and loving and I couldn’t be more grateful for them, every single one of them I love with my whole heart. This song is about something that I’ve been keeping to myself for maybe ten years now? Since I was still really young. God that makes me sound old, but it’s about someone I’ve known and been extremely close to since I was a child. And I think when you’re so close with someone, feelings like the one I’ve presented in the song can completely ruin a friendship if they’re unrequited, but the other day I decided it was time for me to ‘man up’ as my mum would say, and I went to the studio, I wrote and recorded the song and shot the video, and I just released it and I let my music do the talking. I’ve still not heard anything from the person I’ve aimed it too, so if I don’t get one I suppose that’s my answer to my ‘confession of love’ that I brought up at least seven times in the song.”
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User21 - Y/n told me she loves me
User22 - I’m crying this is so cute but a teeny bit sad at the same time
User23 - She actually lets us read her diary 🥲
User24 - Oh it’s so about lando 🥲
User25 - It’s so obvious I’m gonna cry
User26 - LANDO ANSWER HER RN
User27 - ‘Since I was really young’ she really has loved him from the start
User28 - Okay this relationship is a need now please
User29 - same it’s not even a joke anymore
User30 - Lando it’s in your hands now do the right thing
User31 - LANDO LIKED THAT HAS TO BE GOOD
LN.Updates
Liked by - Yourusername, user32 and 89,191 others - Posted - 25.02.24
Tagged | @/LandoNorris
LN.Updates - Lando on a podcast recently!!! He never addresses Y/n by name, but I think we’d be right in assuming that’s who’s he’s talking about
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User33 - MY LANY/N HEART HAS BEEN GROWING THIS PAST WEEK
User34 - I need someone who looks at me the way Lando looks whenever Y/n is mentioned
User35 - WE ALL DO
User36 - HE FEELS THE SAME HE FEELS THE SAME
User37 - Y/N LIKED OMGGG
User38 - Gonna die
User39 - I need them together right now
User40 - All the Lany/n haters right now are hiding
User41 - As they should be
LandoNorris
Liked by - Yourusername, OscarPiastri and 2,008,99 others - Posted - 22.04.24
Tagged | @/yourusername
LandoNorris - Just thinking of youuuuu 🤍🤍
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User42 - EVERYBODY WAKE UP LANY/N HAS BEEN CONFIRMED
User42 - SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP
User43 - RIP ME
User44 - WHY THE FUCK DID IT TAKE YOU TWO MONTHS TO CONFIRM THIS
LandoNorris - We was in a funny mood, we’ve been together since the day after that podcast 🫠
User45 - SHUT THE FUCK UP
User46 - So, before the even confirmed their relationship, they’ve been on a boat trip, she’s been to races, AND they’ve gone to the beach while we all through that they wasn’t together
User47 - The from the start lyrcis 😩
Yourusername - That was a great coffee
LandoNorris - I made a cute hard launch post and you focus on the coffee you had over a month ago?
Yourusername - It was a really good coffee 🥲
LandoNorris - I’ll buy you more
Yourusername - I love youuu 🥲
LandoNorris - I love you more 🤍
User48 - I’m going to sleep on the highway
Yourusername
Liked by - LandoNorris, GracieAbrams and 2,991,295 others - Posted 22.04.24
Tagged | @/LandoNorris
Yourusername - When I say from the start, I really mean it 🤍
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User49 - This is the kind of love I NEED.
LandoNorris - I love you, I always have
Yourusername - Funny, I could say that same thing. I love you so much more
LandoNorris - Impossible
User50 - This is why I wish my mum had a best friend with a son, cause this is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.
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#formula one x reader#f1 x reader#f1 one shot#f1 imagine#charles leclerc x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris x oc#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x reader#ln4 one shot#ln4 x y/n#ln4 fluff#ln4 imagine#ln4 fic#ln4 x reader#ln4 x you#ln4 angst#f1 x female driver#f1 x female reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x oc#f1 smau#f1 x you#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 x female oc#f1 x the internet#formula one x you#formula one x y/n#formula one x oc
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╾━╤デ╦︻ TO THE MOON AND BACK
wriothesley 〥 afab reader ₊ 𓂃 mdni. size kink, service dom wrio, fluff, dacryphilia, praise ⸻ ❪ 393 wc ❫
size kink with wriothesley goes absolutely fucking insane !!
you don't even need to have a specific body type, that man will just make it his dead set mission to manhandle you and fuck you in every position possible.
he's just so proportionally bigger compared to you that feeling tiny under him when he fucks his cock deep into your cunt, comes naturally without warning. but i only think this in a way where he's talking you through it―very, very obverse to how rough he's playing with your insides, he will never degrade you. even if you asked him to.
it just doesn't turn him on.
he doesn't like seeing you cry either, but when its because of the pleasure he's giving you in bed? oh boy, does it do things to him. he can't quite describe it, but when you get cock drunk and a little bit ditzy, it boosts his ego.
he'll always ask if you're comfortable in the set position, or if anything is hurting, down there. his words are as gentle as a lamb, and when it comes to you, he's extremely sexually reserved. he won't touch you inappropriately out in public, make sex jokes around your friends, or even go ahead without any type of consent.
but when you give him that signal where everything is okay and you are comfortable, be prepared not to walk for, generousslly, for maybe a week.
it can sometimes be a struggle keeping up with him during sex, though. i wouldn't necessarily say that his libido is high, per se, because majority of the time his work keeps him occupied when he's not around you. but when he fucks, he likes to fuck hard.
there are also a sprinkle of moments too where he wants to press his forehead to yours, hands intertwined as you ride him slowly, praising you and telling you how good you look, that you're making him feel amazing―he likes to savor these moments for after dates or when he misses you a bit more than usual.
you can tell he's smitten for you, and he gives you all the right reasons to believe it. you don't question where you stand in your relationship with him, despite if the two of you had been away from each other for weeks.
it would probably just end in him breeding you...
#wriothesley smut#genshin smut#wriothesley x reader#genshin x reader#wriothesley#genshin impact#nereids' realm
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tw// overstim++, hybrid smut, bondage, gag, price and simon are assholrs, JUSTICE FOR JOHNNY ‼️
pup!johnny, who's been such a good boy for owner!simon recently. while pup!reader, been the complete opposite for owner!price.
you've been whining and yapping for attention constantly. you're desperate for attention and pleasure. spending most your time rutting against anything you can find. your big puppy eyes were at first endearing when you pawed at his cock, but it quickly stopped being cute.
price has had enough. you're so desperate, he can't get anything done. there's a thin line between needy and annoying, and you've definitely crossed it.
meanwhile, soap has been such a good boy. listening to each and every one of simons commands, keeping his grubby paws off his cock. he even resisted you during your weekly playdate. keeping his hands (and cock) to himself. even despite your pitiful attempts to grind on his thigh.
and so, naturally, there's an obvious conclusion here. two birds, one stone.
when simon tells soap that he's having an extra playdate with you this week, he knows something is up. it's unusual. playdates are normally a bargaining chip for good behaviour. but then again, being rewarded is something johnny never protests.
he had expected the usual, not this. as soon as he entered prices house, Simon gave him an order to follow. and so he did, only to find you bound, gagged, and desperate. all for him.
you're a sight, one that would make even the strongest man rock hard. wrists tied behind your back with pretty pink ribbon. you're dressed in white lace, the lingerie hugging each curve and roll. price had dressed you up for the pup. even going as far as gagging you, the pink dogbone shaped silicone making you drool all over the sheets.
you're already a wreck. your slick shines as it drips down your thighs. the white lace of your panties is translucent, wet fabric clinging to your prrtty cunt. the vibrator price used to torture your pretty clit tossed on the bed beside you carelessy. johnny's eyes dart all over the scene, drinking in each detail.
he can barely hold himself back, but he does. after all, he's a good boy. simons good boy. but it doesn't matter in the end. a large hand squeezes the back of his neck, simons deep voice growling in johnny ear as he speaks. "all yours, pup. show price how good you've been."
it takes him less than a second to act. johnny can't hold himself back, gipping your hips tight. you can barely take a breath as before he rups through the lace of your panties. he isn't nice like normal. instead of slowly lapping at your clit until it's swollen and desperate beneath his tounge, slowly stretching your tight cunt with his fingers- he forces his cock deep inside your swollen cunt.
he knows its mean. the way your cry and squirm beneath his tells him youve already cum multiple times. but it only makes you more fun to fuck. your greedy cunt sucks him in, a lewd squelch filling the room with each thrust.
johnny doesn't care if your sore cunt can't take it. he's not fucking you to make you feel good, this is his. his reward. his pleasure. his time to feel good.
his body is so taught and tense. each thrust is a reflection of that. his cockhead slams against your g-spot, merciless as he seeks his own pleasure. he doesn't stop, does slow. he refuses to.
even when you've cum 3 times, even when your sore, puffy cunt is stuffed full with his cum. johnny runs himself ragged. his pace frantic and feral even as you struggle. you sob and whimper into the sheets, giving price your best puppy eyes as try you beg for mercy despite the gag.
but he doesn't give it. "shhh, shh love. s'your punishment. this is what happens to horny pups like you." he growls as a big hand on the back of your head presses your face to the bed below you.
price and simon don't pay attention to you. ignoring your little squeals and yelps as johnny continues to pound into your over-sensitive cunt. they rub salt into the wound, praising the feral pup as he ruins you.
"such a good boy," "you can do better than that baby," "cmon now, harder. she's a toy johnny, use 'er."
they let johnny fuck you till he cant. your ass red and hot from his hips slamming into you, cunt puffy and swollen. johnny shoots blanks before he pulls out. he's whisked away by simon, praised by his owner till his dizzy. meanwhile, price cups your cheek, forcing your hazy eyes to meet his. "learnt your lesson? gonna be a good girl f'me now?" he smirks as you nod, not sure if you even understand what he said.
#IM BACK#finally we got justice for johnny#poor guy man#finally got his dick wet AHAHAH#price takes a couple of photos of the aftermath to remind you of what happens when you misbehave#tried a slightly new writing style#anyways eat up freaks (/lovingly)#mw2 x reader#mw2 smut#price x reader#john price x reader#price x reader smut#john price x reader smut#ghost x reader#ghost x reader smut#simon riley x reader#simon riley x reader smut#ghost smut#price smut#john price smut#johnny x reader smut#johnny x reader#johnny mctavish x reader smut#soap x reader smut#soap x reader#soap smut#johnny mctavish smut#female reader#price x chubby!puppygirl#pupsoap x pupreader
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be honest with me. what are the chances of a hard launch in june
anon this question goes back years. and the thing is. we have been right once before.
you ask me this this time last year? fuck no. i might even quip that dapg would come back before dnp would hard launch. well. look at us now.
and even then, you look back on the content they started with in the revival--it honestly kind of felt exactly like where we left off, only a lot more explicitly queer (we stan). and then... trying to see without my glasses 2. and bang, spooky week happened. and that shifted the balance. we suddenly got slo-mo replays of handholds. day, after day, after day, finishing with the absolute masterpiece of halloween baking cinnamon rolls. in all honesty it was so much more than i'd've ever expected from them. truly another post-baking universe.
and it never really slowed down. suddenly we had cat prom photos, catboy butlers, catboy dan w/ phil photography credit, theyre 'wrestling' --running us full throttle into gamingmas, the first since 2017. and every day we had a new thing to freak out over: standing close. golf jokes. and then... pinof reacts. i don't know what compelled them to do it but i do have speculations. genuinely, i think they wanted to defang a lot of their history. we treated pinof 1, especially, with this... reverance. and it wasn't talked about too publicly--and dnp didnt do it either. so if they really wanted to move on, to bring down the walls, open the floodgates, define this new era: they had to throw the first stone. and they did. quite heartily too. suddenly this almost taboo part of their history--almost too intimate to be perceived--was on the table. and we were talking about it. joking about it. giving clear signals of 'we see it, it's okay.' and suddenly we existed in a post-pinof reacts world. of anything, i would've never predicted they would've done that. absolutely wild. follow that with it takes two being so chill and fond. incohearant being so blatant and heartfelt. trombone champ being unhinged and chaotic. the genuine and sweet complimenting of each other in the red carpet video. devan wedding... happilyphoreverafter... we crashed forward in time. never knowing what would be next. where is the line? how far will they go.
they teased us with japhan honeymoon and we knew 2024 would be wild. but we didn't know how much. from wdapteo 2023, to specific reminiscing about japan w/ devan, WAD happening, and phil playing a huge role in it all--from the orange carpet hosting, to 'ive been in *sex noises* with phil from the start!', to 'remote crisis manager phil lester', to dan saying he can stay during the thank you.
one of the biggest videos so far this year was the tiktok likes one. i will be forever haunted by the dog eating cheeseburger and willy wonka tiktoks--theres some things i was never meant to know. and yet. they tell us. explicitly.
every single video on amazingphil since the return of dapg has mentioned or featured dan. there's been a palpable shift in the way they interact. have you seen the way phil has been glowing in videos lately? this guy is on cloud nine all the time. it's really not hard to see why.
the energy of keep or yeet w/ dan... the absolute Lack of pretense of it all. phan twitter... watch your step baby girl...
dan and phil fucking crafts. talk about an unexpected return. legacy defining, one might even say. we're still in this tailspin of what everything means and they drop this insanely iconic video on us. from the storytelling to the production to the aesthetic--and its all capped off by explicit handholding. yes, it was part of the sacrifice. but hand in hand, the heart dan ripped from phils chest in one, and the knife that did it in the other... oh boy. we're really in it now. and then they put it on fucking merch. genius. truly no one does it like them.
and the foot has been on the accelerator since. dan and phil connections, shuffleboard & mocktails, getting deep slumber party, acknowledgement & approval of fics (yes previously given but never like this)--hell, even the sims today was wild for 'is their love language horrible banter 👀'.
you didn't ask for an essay but i gave you one. all of this to say, they've been moving the line. quite intentionally so. they intentionally revived their joint branding. they are 'dan and phil' again, and seem happier than ever about it, and i think that means something. they're saying things they never would have before--out of the closet or not.
as for june... 5 years since coming out is a big deal. so is this year being 15 years of dnp. hell, so is this year for being the first out pride month where they're explicitly a duo and regularly making content together. they're sentimental, there will be something.
my craziest idea is reacting to their coming out videos ✌️😔 --but i don't think it'll actually happen. as for more realistic, i could see pride merch. and however that goes will be significant, in my opinion. i'm excited and curious.
i don't know if they'll hard launch. it's hard to put all of the implications, complications, and speculations back into the box once it's opened. dan's talked about it before--wanting to be able to fuck up and not be publically executed, instead, being able to learn and grow and work it out. i think that's a very understandable stance to have. very grounded. we'd have to ask him if tour/dapg has changed that now. i do think he's had some sort of life epiphany--whether it's about that specifically, only he can say. but i think it's there.
even if i portray a lot of level-headedness, i wear my clown nose with pride. sometimes the only option is to go with whatever is funniest at the time. they're both jokesters, so they could commit to a bit like that. but it's also like, it can be too serious for them to want to joke about. i don't know. i think we're in this almost beautiful state right now--the we know you know of it all. there's no expectations, no demands to be met, no obligations of types of content. they're happy. we're happy. it depends on if they feel ready. if they want to. we'll be here, always.
#that is to say. marraige hill is starting to get crowded boys. so if you could. do something about that. thatd be great#im sure there's things ive missed but basically it comes down to this: realistically? maybe. & thats a lot fucking closer than its ever been#theyre having fun. and that means im having fun#dnp#c.text#dan and phil#phan#<- for the fandometrics#answered
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can i request making ellie choke on readers strap.. I’m talking gargling gagging drooling.. THEE SLOPPIEST head ever
I FORGOT HOW TO WRITE REQS IM SORRYDJDJD ITS BEEN SO LONG…. but ellie’s a finger sucker. a subtle invite to fuck her throat 🩷
ellie’s a fiddler, and it becomes more and more evident the more comfortable she gets. whenever she’s home and has down time, she’s messing with something; a pencil, balled-up pieces of paper that she didn’t have the heart to toss, a guitar pic. anything that fits in her hand… will stay there. she can’t help it. call it nerves or muscle memory or a tic; she doesn’t care. give her something to hold.
and it’s the same whenever you’re present. on the couch, on her bed, in your bed, her hands are always somewhere on you. i don’t know why, but i feel like she’s one of those people that need to have a part of her body touching someone else’s while she’s sleeping… like her leg wrapped around her partner’s or something like that. she’s always cold and that's her way of staying warm… also uses it as an extra layer of security. wants to make sure you’re still there. <3
but when she’s horny… attached at the hip. grabs at your clothes, nuzzles her face in your shoulder and chest, pinches your legs. a literal pinchy-bug… she’ll be staring with your hand in her lap, hers enclosed around your wrist so you don’t pull away (and when you try to, her hold tightens).
then she’ll start just mindlessly playing with your fingers. you’re used to her pattern at that point: she counts them over and over again in her head, massages them because they’re stiff… lightly kisses your knuckles. nothing crazy… just feather-like brushes of her lips with your thumb pinched between hers and index. her eyes bat in your direction when her lips smack on your skin. sadly, you never catch the beginning signs that she needs something urgently; she has to force herself not to bite your palm… (she’s a hand admirer… i could write a whole novel on that). it’s only when you feel a light nibble on your middle finger that your forearm flexes… so she does it again. it’s so soft, you’d barely catch it if you didn’t know your fucking girlfriend.
pops the tip of it between her lips with the lightest suction, and your stomach flips. you attempt to mask the hitch in your breath, but you can’t, and she has the audacity to laugh… all while slowly glazing the tip in saliva before doing that to all your fingers (gives your pinky some extra lovin’). time blurs after that. next thing you know, she’s on her back with three of your fingers hitting the back of her tongue and slobber dripping down to her cheeks. you lay beside her while your other hand gets used like a stress toy; her hands just randomly clench around yours whenever she gags because she’s cute like that.
when you finally get the hint and she’s done choking on your fingers, you whip it out (of the top drawer). she loves when you straddle her chest and fuck her throat like that. you never notice since you’re facing the opposite direction most times, but whenever you slide a tad too deep, her toes curl in delight. you’re always there to encourage the mess she's making. always call her a sweetheart when she gags on you; it gets her gears going! sometimes she wants her esophagus bruised. sometimes she wants you to scratch her scalp while she sucks the tip. sometimes she just wants to fucking play with it like a stick shift.
if you own a strap, fuck your partner's throat! save a life and whatnot...
#thot thoughts 𓈒⁀➷ ‿➹#nonnies ✄┈┈ ˚#ellie williams smut#ellie williams#ellie x reader#ellie williams headcanons
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nanami buys you coffee
fluff + pre (established relationship) + slight age gap
berri: based on these headcanons, i'll probably write each one individually if i have time 😊🩷
being an intern is ... hard. the pay is barely anything, the work load makes death look appealing and the managers ,,,, well, they hate you. at least they act like they do.
after a long morning of shadow work and running after your manager to print individual copies of meeting documents, you are sick. all you want to do is go home and pass out for the rest of the day.
you didn't have time for breakfast and with all the running around, not enough for even a pick-me-up drink. it's exhausting and you hate it,,, but you need this stupid internship.
after a quick sob session in the restroom, you come back to throw yourself on a spinning chair that you are convinced is going to be the root cause of your premature back pain.
you are busy muttering curses under your breath when you hear someone clearing their throat.
you turn your chair to see fucking nanami kento, a senior manager in the company and your work crush.
he is so cool, you've seen him diffuse the most complex situations in seconds and he's always so humble about it. never too proud despite his insane skill level.
"... everything good?" he asks, voice deep enough to make your body react on its own. you take a good thirty seconds to realise that he's talking to you.
eyes wide and lips parted, you answer.
"y-yes sir! of course, do you need me to print any documents?" you ask, palms sweating.
and he laughs.
he fucking laughs and it is the best thing you've ever heard. it's low and gritty but god he sounds so good laughing.
"sir? nanami is more than enough." he then looks around awkwardly before handing you something. you finally notice the coffee cup in his hand.
"huh?" "it's for you."
"oh." you giggle. you take a sip and it's perfect.
the temperature is not too hot, the coffee is not too sweet and it's the right ratio of whipped cream to milk. you don't know what he ordered but you do know that you can't go back to drinking normal coffee.
"uhm- thank you!!" you swallow, "this is perfect! but is there like an employee event today?" you still don't know why he got you the coffee.
"oh,," he chuckles, "no, i just wanted to see you smile."
#nanamin me 🧈#nanami kento x reader#nanami x you#jjk nanami#nanami x y/n#nanami kento#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#fluff ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁☁︎#jjk fluff#nanami fluff
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Hello, in case your requests are without any guidelines, can you a fic like this:
You saved the life of I.N., who was fatally injured in a deal gone wrong, but you're oblivious that he's from SKZ (an underground group known to be dangerous).
Let me know if you have any questions? Thanks for considering!
⭑ “i owe you” ⭑ pt.1
⭑ jeongin x female reader
⭑ content includes: non-idol reader, non-idol jeongin, causal mentions of blood and scars, mentions of other members (bang chan), reader is a doctor
⭑ note: by no means am i a doctor so please correct any of my terminology if its not used correctly.
⭑ minors dni
the red traffic light glowed in the cold, dark night, forbidding you from shutting your eyes. your car's broken clock insisted it was 12:08 AM, though you knew it must be at least 4:08 AM. The familiar alleyway you always surveyed after your dreaded shift was usually populated by drug dealers, homeless souls, and discarded beer cans. tonight, however, a figure crouched there, clutching his right hand and gazing up at the moon...
fortunately a parking spot was open right after the traffic stop and you rush your first aid kit out of the back, pacing to this odd instance. running up to strange man at 4 in the morning wouldn’t be ideal, but you’re a doctor who believes there is good in everyone, and leaving someone hurt is morally wrong. your footsteps slow down as you approach him, eventually stopping to make out his face.
his face was illuminated by the moon he looked up to for hope. his eyes were sharp and dreamy, reminiscent of a fox’s gaze. a fresh scar ran down his left cheek, hinting at a serious injury. you couldn’t make anything else of his condition, but it seemed severe and the only solution would be taking him home to treat him.
“e-excuse me?”
his eyes flickered to the direction of your voice, squinting at your - not too appealing - presence. regardless of his beauty, his tattoos and shredded, soiled clothes lent him an intimidating feel.
“who are you?” his voice couldn’t be described as deep, but rather a large and empty void.
“im y/ln, doctor at the local hospital here. i noticed you looked injured and came to help”
“im fine”
you moved closer to him, shining a small flashlight on his body. the injuries were severe and far from fine. knife wounds, bruises and a split lip covered his body, causing him to lose more blood by the minute.
“im sorry, but i cannot leave you in this condition”
he grunted, his grip tightening on his hand, struggling to give you an audible response.
“just. leave.”
you act quick and throw his limp arm around your shoulder, guiding him slowly to your car. his blood seeped into your shirt, but what worried you more was his life being between your hands.
“fuck! can’t you see it’s an open wound?” your body jumped at his cries, feeling heavier with sympathy for him. you tried your best to disinfect his wounds gently, but the pain would be near intolerable.
“it’s almost over” you whispered to him, too focused to answer him back properly.
he sat on the sofa of your living room, taking in the art works you hung on the wall to distract him from the gruesome pain. every now and then he would flinch or grunt, but it’s nothing you’ve never dealt with before as a doctor.
you near the end of his ‘procedure’ and move to his face, inspecting the deep scar that ran across his cheek and his busted lip. a mix of disappointment and curiosity washed over you, expressed in a long sigh.
“what did you get yourself into?”
“nothing”
“what’s your name?” your questions were an attempt to distract the painful alcohol grazing his cuts, but his hissing and grunting never came to a stop.
“j-jeong in”
you repeat the name to yourself, its familiarity nudging at your head. while preparing the bandages, you couldn’t help but take in his strong facial features. he looks back at you too, eyes outlining every detail of your face. you couldn’t shake the feeling of familiarity, so you give it up to him being an old patient but a tattoo on his neck catches your eye, denying your conclusion.
(SKZ)
“SKZ? where have i heard that before?” it sounded like something that may have been in the newspapers they handed out to the doctors offices, or something on the news channel, but the lack of sleep wouldn’t be able to catch onto anything.
“you forced me into your home to fucking question me?!” he screamed at your face, looking at you in disgust. the words caught in your throat and you felt like crying, your thoughts crashing down. today had been stressful enough, and having someone scream at you was the last straw. jeongin notices the beads of tears forming on your waterline, changing his expression in a matter of seconds.
“please, just finish so i can leave” he sighs, turning to face the sunrise that peeked through the curtains. the teardrop falls on your leg and you return to what you should’ve been doing, feeling bad for the unnecessary confrontation you gave him.
a contact named “bang chan” buzzed his phone and he picks it up, placing it up to his ear and squirming at the pain of the alcohol on the scar of his cheek. you attempt to listen to some of the muffles from the other side, hoping you can conclude your suspicions about him.
jeongin- “yea?”
bang chan- “where are you man?”
jeongin- “getting treated by a random doctor in her house”
his eyes dart from his arm to your face, holding your gaze.
bang chan- “are you crazy? we are high profile by the police and you’re at a random doctors house?”
his tone was clearly sterner, but all the noises you could hear faded at the thought of having someone wanted infront of you. your body stiffens but you act clueless, worried of how dangerous he may be.
jeongin- “just… ill be back”
bang chan- “man this isn’t funny at all. you’re getting us in some deep shit”
jeongin- “she looks like she wouldn’t tell a soul”
bang chan- “a doctor? you couldn’t pick a worse person to help you?”
he scans your face for any fear or regret, but you hold back any emotions until he would be out of your house and safe.
bang chan- “god you’re so fucking oblivious. be here before the afternoon”
he laughs at his comment, ending the call.
you put all the equipment back to its place as jeongin sips on a mug of green tea, slouching on the couch. as a doctor you couldn’t let him out too early and he had to be watched for at least a day. but you were worried of his criminal state and if his friend would barge the door of your house open.
“you’ll need to rest. don’t get yourself involved in any of… that”
he nods, getting up to place his mug on the counter and head for the door.
“thank you. really”
you close your eyes, nodding at him and inspecting his bandages one more time.
“i owe you”
and with that, it would’ve been the last encounter with him. many questions ran through your head but it would autopilot to your couch, falling asleep to the memory of his ethereal but odd face.
the alleyway remained significant to you, always looking for him, or for another injured individual. but with the overflowing pressure of becoming a doctor and having no time to yourself, everything would fade away and it would become endless hours of work.
FIVE YEARS LATER
you parkoured between your new neighbors boxes to get to your door,
placing the groceries on the floor and rummaging for your key. your eyes couldn’t help but dart to the many boxes. the apartment next to you is finally occupied after a mysterious 3 years of nobody renting it.
at the collection of that thought, the door of the new neighbors unlocks, startling you. a mans back faced you, his hair orange, wearing a black leather jacket and black jeans. it was only when he turned that your heart may have stopped. his features were unmatched and unique, taking you a while to absorb before greeting him.
“hey! new neighbor?”
he didn’t respond for a while, looking at you with confusion.
“your name?”
“it’s y/n. im a doctor at the local hospital here. what about you?”
“jeongin”
recollections of that very night begin to flow through your mind and how everyday for weeks you stared into the dark alleyways, trying to picture his body there. immediately your eyes dart to his neck, only to find his tattoos slightly fading.
(SKZ)
your eyes dart back to his face, still questioning if it was true or not.
“i owe you”
TO BE CONTINUED
⭑ TAG LIST
@captainchrisstan @rylea08 @strayywayy @all4minnie @katsukis1wife @kayleefriedchicken
#stray kids#stray kids oneshot#skz#skz smut#stray kids smut#skz fanfic#skz scenarios#kpop#kpop oneshots#kpop bg#kpop smut#x reader#bang chan#bangchan x reader#lee know#lee know x reader#changbin#changbin x reader#hwang hyunjin#hyunjin x reader#han jisung x reader#jisung x reader#lee felix#lee felix x reader#seungmin#seungmin x reader#jeongin#jeongin x reader#smut#angst
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Rage, rage | three
prologue | one | two | three |
Pairing: Azriel x Hybern!Princess!OC
Summary: Nimue was a gift for the King of Hybern. His shining jewel, the perfect heir. However, she is clear about who the villain of the story is. When she saves her father's enemies from a tragic end, she realizes that now it's the Cauldron who has a gift for her: a mate.
Warnings: heavy injures, description of injuries, blood, violence, weapons, bad language, english not being my first language
They look at each other, adrenaline boiling and screaming in everyone's veins. Nimue doesn't take her eyes off Rhysand, but she feels everyone looking at her.
She feels naked, unprotected.
She blinks to get used to all that light. She had never seen so much light and it's beautiful.
Her senses come to life as she lets go of Rhysand's hand, which she had unknowingly been clinging to. She breathes over and over, trying to calm herself, but involuntarily she begins to tremble.
What has she done, what has she done, what has she done.
Father is going to kill her.
Amidst her frenzy of thoughts, Rhysand starts barking orders. She doesn't hear them well, only scattered words: healer, help, house.
Nimue glimpses a huge house to her right, and realizes she has brought them all to the courtyard of a mansion. Around her, everyone seems to spring into action.
The blonde female runs into the house, and seconds later comes out accompanied by another woman, shorter and slighter. She can't tell if she's fae or a creature. When Nimue and her lock eyes, it's like they're looking in a mirror. Both frown but decide to ignore each other.
For Nimue, it's as if everything is happening in slow motion: when she wants to realize, there's another person there, attending to the two injured Ilyrian. A glow emanates from her hands, its warmth reaching the princess's face. A healer, she supposes. She had never seen one.
She fights against her own panic, trying to get used to all the hustle and bustle and all those sounds. The birds flying above her head, the sunlight, the smell of the sea, the smell of pine and cedar, the voices around her, the poor Ilyrian screaming in pain...
She lowers her gaze, and without thinking, she starts speaking: "I can help."
Everyone looks at her again, judging her. They scan her from head to toe.
The two females who were thrown into the Cauldron are to her left, crying and hugging the one who was with Rhysand. Are they sisters? They looked so much alike...
"I can help," she repeats, this time firmer. She starts walking and sees how Rhysand prepares to attack her, "I can heal both of them, if you let me."
She analyzes the High Lord's face, and sees how little by little he is giving in. No one articulates any words, with a simple nod of the male's head, he grants her permission. He has nothing more to lose.
She kneels beside the one with the shattered wings and begins to do what she does with herself and the wounds she has ever suffered: with her magic, she grasps every little nerve ending, every small piece of skin. She pulls them and threads them, weaves them, joins them and separates them as if making a tapestry. So little by little, she shapes the wings of that Ilyrian. It's all pure instinct, what her nature dictates to her.
Father always told her she was his Goddess of Destruction, but Nimue knew deep down that she was capable of fixing, of healing, of bringin good to the world.
Under everyone's watchful eyes, she was piece by piece, shred by shred, joining and repairing the broken wings of that male. When she reached the bones, she simply imagined how they should have originally been: she ordered them to return to their form, to be soldered, and they obediently complied.
With a final grunt from the male, Nimue finished her work. But before she could get up, he grabbed her arm:
"Thank you," he whispered. Nimue is stunned. Thank you?
Had anyone ever thanked her for anything? Had anyone shown her gratitude?
No, her real doubt wasn't that. Had she ever done anything worthy of others' gratitude?
She swallowed her fear and terror, kneeling on the ground. She watched as the male limped away from her and enveloped the blonde female in a hug, how he squeezed her tightly as they both cried on each other's shoulders.
She was so, so lost. Where was she? What was happening around her?
"What a miracle of a girl," the healer whispered. Standing between Rhysand and the slighter female, the more aged-looking woman never took her eyes off her, "You are a Cauldron's blessing. When you're done, I'll need you to teach me how you do that. You are a–"
"Silence, Madja," Rhysand's voice resonates under her feet and in the very mountain, as if he had spoken those words inside Nimue's skull. She shrinks, intimidated. That's the power of a High Lord, "Now him. Heal him.”
She looks away from Rhysand and sets her gaze on the last remaining male.
Kneeling on the ground beneath him is a pool of his own blood and something that seems to be shadows, moving frenetically back and forth. She had never seen anything like it, those... beings, moving around the man. Nimue hears faint noises that she can't quite understand.
Behind her, she feels a presence moving. Rhysand looks down at her, those violet eyes so deep that Nimue feels hypnotized, "Don't just stand there gaping and do what you did to Cassian. Now. Or I'll cut off your head, you filthy Hybern rat."
She nods, and when she turns back to the winged male, he looks back at her. His amber eyes follow every small movement she makes: from the slight tremble of her lower lip to the way she raises her hand.
When he tries to speak, a trickle of blood runs down his lip to his chin, "Touch me and I'll cut off your hands, traitor."
Nimue trembles.
What the hell is she doing? Where has she gotten herself into?
Before she knows it, two streaks of water run down her cheeks. Is she crying? She had never cried before, what a strange sensation.
Her gaze travels to the hands of the male in front of her. He grips a beautiful black dagger, its tip directly aimed at Nimue's chest.
She swallows hard and, in a quick motion, grabs the arrow he has lodged in his chest and pulls it out with all her strength. She has been so fast that the male collapses forward, falling on top of her.
Rhysand and the healer, Madja, take care of getting him off her, and when Nimue tries to touch him again, the High Lord growls at her, "I told you to heal him, not to open up the damn hole in his chest further."
By pure instinct, Nimue snarls back at him, "I am healing him, you idiot. Back off."
Where she found the courage, she doesn't know. But they obey her, and she gets back to work.
The male is lying on his back on the ground, and Nimue places her hand on his chest, where the arrow was previously lodged. She begins to weave again, slowly, thread by thread.
Her gaze rests on his face, which, with closed eyes, lets out the occasional groan between his teeth.
Azriel feels like his chest is on fire. He feels the edges of the wound burning, he feels combustion from within. He takes gulps of air as he struggles not to lose consciousness, and blinded by the pain, he reaches his hand into the air and grabs onto the first thing he finds.
Nimue startles when his hand grabs her elbow, but she lets it be, the touch of his glove is a new, pleasant, and different sensation. She looks back at his face, and in a low voice, she speaks to him, "I'm almost done. Just making sure there's no trace of the poison that the arrow was coated with."
Azriel lets out a growl. He couldn't care less about the explanations. He just wants it to be over already.
The pain reaches the core of his bones and he opens his eyes abruptly, looking at the girl in front of him.
What is that?
Around her, he sees a thread, a small golden rope encircling her: it descends down her shoulders and arms, caresses her wrists and fingers, and wherever her skin meets his, he sees how the thread enters his own body.
Is he hallucinating?
Hasn't he had enough with the arrow between his ribs, that now the poison is making him hallucinate?
Behind the girl, he sees Rhysand, Amren, Cassian, Mor, even damn Madja. He sees how in slow motion their brows furrow, he sees how they lean forward, looking puzzled at something that makes Azriel scared.
"What's going on?" he asks agitated. He tries to sit up on his elbows, but although the pain has already diminished, it still doesn't let him breathe properly, "What are you all looking at like that?"
Nimue furrows her brows as she pushes the man back to the ground so he stays still. She frowns, as she begins to feel something on her fingertips...
Something is not right.
The sensation travels up her forearm and shoulder, and settles in her chest. There inside, like a caged bird, that sensation starts tumbling, back and forth, faster and faster.
She removes her hand from the man's chest and he sits up in front of her, like a spring.
Azriel feels like he's going to explode. What has that witch put inside him? What kind of magic has she used on him?
"What the hell have you done to me?" he shouts. Azriel brings a hand to his chest when that pressure keeps growing.
Nimue mimics him, feeling like her chest is going to burst.
What has she done? Has she made a mistake? Perhaps her magic has betrayed her now for the first time...
She's hyperventilating, and when she feels that, indeed, she's going to explode like a firework, she looks into the eyes of the male in front of her.
And then everything suddenly calms down.
They stare at each other, stunned, not knowing what to say. Their breaths come together, equally fast and choppy.
And when their bodies stop vibrating and calm down, she feels it there.
There's something, something pulling her towards...
Towards him.
Azriel jumps to his feet, as if they hadn't just removed a poisoned arrow from his chest or he hadn't just lost liters and liters of blood. He finds Truth Teller in its usual place and with a practiced motion after years and years of battles, he grabs the girl by the collar of her clothes and lifts her up like a feather. The dagger rests comfortably against her neck, and she does nothing but look back at him, wide-eyed.
"Azriel!" Rhysand shouts. He ignores his High Lord, although every fiber of his being tells him to obey him, "Azriel, let her go!"
Then, Nimue comes to her senses. With a practiced movement, the winged male is kneeling on the ground again. The pretty black dagger is now in her hand, while with the other she pulls back his hair.
Azriel doesn't know when all this happened. He just knows that he blinked and now he's the prey. He clings to the girl's hand pulling his hair and tries to break free, but he can't understand how such a small woman can have the strength of a thousand men.
"Now I'm going to let go of you and you're not going to attack me. Understood?" She utters each word slowly, as if speaking in another language.
Nimue takes a step back, releasing the dagger, which falls to the ground with a dull thud.
Azriel stands up, and in a leap, he's next to Rhysand in an attack position.
Before Nimue, everyone present is on high alert. Some in attack position, others simply ready for whatever may happen.
The first to speak is Azriel, with the same accusatory tone as before, "What have you done to me? Undo it." He's trembling, and Nimue can't tell if it's from fear or from the pure rage she sees in his face.
Even if she wanted to, she couldn't undo it, because she herself doesn't know what has happened.
What is that pulling her? What is that feeling in her chest, an anchor dragging her toward that winged male?
Everyone remains silent, looking at each other.
However, it's Rhysand who speaks first, the voice of reason in a desperate situation, "Let's all calm down."
Because he doesn't know if he's the only one who sees it, who feels it. That sudden change in the air. It smells like cedar and mist, like Azriel. But if he pays attention, he smells the sea salt and the sweetness of poison in the air. The scent that the girl in front of them emits. It's intoxicating and chilling at the same time. He couldn't say.
What he can say, however, is what he sees crystal clear. Azriel's essence, mixed with that of the unknown girl. He sees how both mingle in the air.
And then, Rhysand would swear that he stopped hearing Azriel's heartbeat next to him.
"My mate," his friend whispers. His face, a complete expression of surprise, something that the Shadow Singer rarely showed, "She's my mate.”
Taglist:
@lilah-asteria @agentsofsheilds @leptitlu @just-here-reading @glitterypirateduck @donttellthecats
A/N:I really hope you are all enjoying it. Every kind of support is greatly appreciated, and thank you so much to those who already support it!! If you want to be added to the taglist, just let me know 🥰
#azriel x you#azriel x oc#azriel imagine#azriel x reader#azriel#azriel acotar#acotar fic#acotar fanfiction#acotar#rhysand#cassian#azriel fanfic#azriel fic
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do you write for nanami? if you do, i have a req :3
au where hes still with us (sniffles) and being a sorcerer is more of an on-the-side thing, and he's like an overworked office middle class guy whos also a wizard on the lowkey. sometimes he works so much he even forgets his birthday. but you didn't. ohhh no you did not. you're at home patiently waiting for him, and all you want is to spoil him for the night because he deserves it!! he deserves to just be taken care of, given the care he needs, maybe a little overstim in the process, but it's all with good intentions... (right?)
SORRY THIS IS SO LONG OMG 😭😭
anyway...... requesting a sub!nanami x softdom!female!reader with a little overstim <3 (out here exposing my service dom fantasies)
idk if you do emoji anons, but if you do can i be 🎱 anon? tysm!! i love your works and i hope your have a lovely day/night :) <333
So taking care of nanami on his birthday? Consider it done. Also welcome 🎱 anon, I’m happy about all my new anons ^^
Dom!reader x sub!nanami
Warning: blow job (reader giving), teasing, marking - hickeys, fluff, use of pet names
Hands moving across the table, reaching for the dirty porcelain. The sound of plates being stacked could be heard, and you swiftly placed the dishes on the counter. Nanami tried to help, carrying the cake over to the refrigerator, though you stopped him. “Let me do it, it’s your birthday today! You are forbidden from working.” You declared, snatching whatever he was holding away and putting it in its rightful place yourself. “My birthday isn’t that important, just let me help.” He was such a gentleman, but you still stayed stubborn. Today was his birthday, yet he still went to work, he even did overtime. That’s not acceptable, at least now you should lift some burden off his shoulder.
Right, that was your plan. To take care of him, make him feel loved and happy. Also most importantly, not let him do any chores. Even if it doesn’t look like that, he also has to rest. You really adored him which is why you wished he’d take care of himself some more, and have a mesmerising birthday of course. So why did he look so troubled? You told him not to help. Instead of relaxing he looks uncomfortable or awkward. Just sitting there, watching you do it all. Seems like this part failed a little.. then it’s time to move onto the next one.
Still determined to make him enjoy himself, you brought him to your shared bedroom after watching a movie. “Could you please sit down, my dear?” You asked him, while slowly stripping your clothes. Until you were only in your undergarments. In the meantime the Blondie sat down, a slightly hesitant look on his face. He wasn’t sure what to do, since you’ve been taking everything upon yourself the entire time. His hands wandered to his belt, gaze never leaving your body. Before he could get rid of his belt, he felt your hands on top of his, stopping him gently. “Leave it all to me, alright?”
Nanami felt really embarrassed now. What was he, a kid? Why would he need help undressing himself? Despite his inner turmoil, he still let you do whatever you wanted. It looked like you planned all of this just for him, thus he’ll try to play along. The last thing he’d want is to inconvenient you. Slowly you pulled his belt out, then your fingers wandered up to his collar. He felt a slight tug as you pulled on his tie, untying the knot. Then you gently, and carefully unbuttoned his deep blue shirt. You were only focused on him, and nothing else, pupils glancing at his face every now and then. A smile spread across your features when you saw him furrowing his brows. “You can take off those glasses now.” You whispered, one hand reaching for his cheeks, caressing him while the other still held his dress shirt. His own hand moved upwards and took them off, placing them on the nightstand.
“Such beautiful eyes, don’t hide them from me all the time, hehe.” “I’m not hiding anything from you.” You sure hoped that was the case, considering how he thinks most of the stuff happening at work isn’t worth mentioning. Now that that was out of the picture, you resumed your previous antics, opening one button after another. Soon it revealed his muscular body, and you couldn’t help but stare. You have always loved everything about him, from the head to toes. Yet right now you were sure his torso was your favourite. How beautiful his skin was, as well as the little, barely visible scars from battles; or his firm chest with those cute nipples.
You moved your face closer to his, hands on his pecs now as you kissed him, locking your lips with his. His lips were soft and you were like in a trance when you kissed him. Before he got to enjoy it you pulled back, grinning from ear to ear. It was way too short for him, but he didn’t complain, he could never get mad at you. Afterwards you started kissing his neck. So carefully and tender, that it felt like a feather brushing over his skin, it was almost ticklish. His breath sharpened by a notch when you started groping his chest, squeezing that place with your fingers. In between kisses and smooches, you made sure to whisper into his ear, showering him with compliments. “I’m so glad to have you, my handsome and beautiful boy.” This continued for a bit, and soon his entire collarbone area was covered by red spots. Some hickeys were on his torso too. “You look gorgeous right now.” you commented on those trails of marks you left behind, before fumbling with the zipper of his pants.
You didn’t strip him entirely naked, only enough that you get to touch him wherever. Pulling his pants and underwear down a little to free his cock. He groaned a little when you wrapped your hand around his shaft, rubbing the part that is connected to his pelvis. “Y/n, darling.. don’t tease today.” Immediately your attention wandered to him again, shushing him with your finger as you said, “don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything, I’ll make you feel good today.” A light chuckle, then you played with his tip. The adoration you had for him was genuine, and visible in your eyes.
The way you looked so confident and eager to make him feel good was so adorable in his eyes, and he just can’t help himself but fall even more. Sighting a little before it turned into a breathy moan, “uhh,..huh.” Your delicate fingers were touching all the right places, and soon he was fully erect. One of his hands was clutching the sheets, while the other reached out to your hair, stroking it gently. This surprised you a little, but it wasn’t too bad so you let him be. Then you moved lower, until your lips were inches away from his dick. You let your saliva drool down, afterwards you licked his tip as a tease. “Hmm- i told you not to tease.” “Oh? Guess i forgot that then~” an adorable giggle followed, coming from you. He was truly lucky to have you here with him.
While he was still admiring the relationship you two have build, you took him into your mouth and sucked. Trying your best to avoid any teeth and using your tongue to roll it over his tip. “Ughh- haa..” his grip on your hair tightened. Normally you’d push his hand away, though today was a special occasion. Sweet moans and the occasional gasp spilled from his lips, eyes now clenched shut. Sometimes he’d bite his bottom lip too, to try and keep his voice down. You just continued taking more of him, using your hand to jerk off the rest that didn’t fit. “Darling.” He called out to you, but stopped mid sentence to compose himself. It was getting harder and harder to speak, or to think.
He could feel every fever of his being pulsing, his heart pounding like crazy. The blood rushed to his face and abdomen, making the rest of his limps go numb. Strength was leaving his legs and arms slowly, all while more and more pleasure flourished within him. How his body convulsed every time you licked his tip, or when the inside of your mouth clenched down on him. It felt warm and soft, so good he could feel himself getting closer to the edge.
“Ahh.. keep going, just like that.. please.” Finally he finished his sentence, pleading with you with a meek voice. You didn’t plan on stopping anyway, instead you wanted to make him beg you to stop at the end of this session. Smirking to yourself as you kept doing your own thing, enjoying the noises he’d make. Did it really feel that good? Was what you would have liked to ask, but this is fine too. As long as your lovely boyfriend looks ecstatic and full of bliss, you were content too. Out of nowhere his grip righted by a lot, enough to make it hurt for you. He mumbled apologies while saying, “ah.. I’m clo-close.. haa, sorry., darling…”
What a lucky boy. If today was any other day you would have punished him. Fine, guess you were going to be especially merciful with him. You didn’t mind the slight sting his tug brought you, mouth and hands still working on bringing him over the edge. He let go of your hair in the last minute and clasped it over his mouth. A silent moan left him, then a repressed groan followed. “Nghhnmmm…!! Ahhh..ugh..” his voice was beautiful, you could listen to him all day. Even though his hand wasn’t in your hair anymore, you still didn’t move away. Letting him cum in your mouth, before you finally moved back. When your lips left his dick you made a wet slurping sound, then swallowed everything he offered to you. “Delicious~” you smiled innocently as if you didn’t just make him see heaven.
Suddenly he moved closer to you, sitting up and hands grabbing your cheeks now. “Nanami? Is something?” You wondered, but that curiosity soon got replaced by shock and a joyful feeling you haven’t felt for a while. He kissed your forehead, cupping your face with his hands as he whispered, “I’m glad i can spend my birthday with you.” All while smiling so tenderly, with a calmness and warmth that was unfamiliar to you. Only sometimes he’d get emotional enough to be like this, and whenever he did, you couldn’t help but fall in love with him all over again. “Happy birthday, nanami.”
#sub character#sub!character#dom reader#dom!reader#sub jjk#sub jujutsu kaisen#sub nanami#nanami kento#nanami x reader#jjk nanami#nanami smut#jujutsu nanami#nanami x you#jujutsu kaisen nanami#nanami fluff#nanami x y/n#🎱 anon
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Listen. Smartypants Society? Fuck yeah. I'm going to come clean and admit that I am one of those people that kind of enjoys public speaking/ presentations, and in turn loves seeing people who are Good At Public Speaking/Presentations and enjoy it do their thing. Tricks of timing and emphatic delivery and precise rhetoric and structured argument construction all delivered with charisma dialed up to x100000% is just. 👌
Like, you can make anything sound legit with the right tricks, and in theory I find it SO enjoyable seeing it happen!!! Unfortunately in the context of the Real World this is often seen in contexts that tend to range from Impressive but Sobering or just Literally The Most Frustrating Shit because hey you're talking awful hurtful absolute bullshit but saying it The Right Way, Im Going To Lose it.
So. Therefore........ Smartypants Society generates a deep joy in my soul. Deeply talented speakers/comedians with phenomenal stage presence and quick wit, to use their command over delivery and rhetoric and comedic timing to dissect and break down the most nonsensical things ever? Meticulous argument construction and empassioned delivery about absolute, ridiculous, zero stakes bullshit?? Fuck yeah. Its like seeing someone with expert culinary training and a professionally equipped kitchen make the most 3AM drunk food meal with intentional precision. Tell me why vegetables arent real. Break down who's invited to the cookout. What IS the happiest birthday. Make me believe you. :')
#i love people being really good at what they do. and i love well articulated arguments on absolute low stakes bullshit. <3#dropout#smartypants society#dropout tv#not cr#:]#spar speaks#some excellent clips and screenshots available#realizing i never finished my post about it but i love adventuring academy contested roll for the same reason#.........ok fine i lied. i dont kind of like presentations. i rlly like em.
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Oh, You’re Breaking My Heart
Warnings: sexual thoughts, angst, mentions of ptsd, Neil Hargrove, mentions of loneliness and isolation.
Pairings: main pairing Billy x reader, some slight Steve x reader
Summary: Your longing for an exciting romance finally comes true when Billy Hargrove becomes your next-door neighbor. But is love everything you thought it would be?
Authors note: hi everyone! I’m most likely going to be turning this into a series (don’t know how long yet) but I’m so very excited because this has been sitting in my drafts for about a year already and I’ve finally decided to just finish it. There will be eventual smut for this soooooooooooo yea tee hee anyways hope you guys like it! Btw the timeline I’m using is not the same as the one in the show.
⋆˚☆˖°☾ ⋆˚☆˖°☾ ⋆˚☆˖°☾ ⋆˚☆˖°☾ ⋆˚☆˖°☾ ⋆˚☆˖°☾ ⋆˚☆˖°☾ ⋆˚☆˖°☾ ⋆˚☆˖°☾ ⋆˚
Love was something you deeply craved, something you longed for. As ridiculous as it sounds, you thought about it almost every day.
Having that one partner in crime; someone you can be reckless, wild, and free with. Someone who makes you forget about reality; someone who would do anything for you. Someone who knows the deepest, darkest parts of you.
For a while it became something you obsessed over.
Intimate, passionate, crazy love—blamed for the constant loneliness you felt. Your obsession with fictional romance failed to alleviate it. No amount of reading or watching could fill the cavity in your heart, that horrible feeling of emptiness in your chest.
Then Billy Hargrove became your next-door neighbor.
It all happened so fast.
Your belly erupted with a swarm of butterflies the moment his ocean-blue eyes met yours, as if the world paused just for that brief moment.
His dirty blonde curls and tan skin ignited something deep inside you. Soon enough, the emptiness in your chest was replaced by the fierce pounding of your heart.
Pretty boys came with a lot of attention, though, meaning Billy Hargrove came with a lot of attention.
Every girl threw themselves at him the moment he set foot in Hawkins High. And who could blame them? With a face like his, he was downright gorgeous. If you had the courage, you'd throw yourself at him too.
But for now, simply admiring him from a distance would suffice.
You took pride in that though. Who else can say they had a perfect view of Billy Hargrove almost every night through their window?
You spent countless nights watching him smoke cigarettes outside on the hood of his Camaro, admiring the way the moonlight hit his face as he was in deep thought about God knows what.
It was pretty hard not to look at Billy other than those nights through your window though...
In Mrs. Clarke's biology class, you'd often catch yourself staring at him. He'd sense your gaze and once smirked back at you, letting you know he felt your eyes on him.
And God, he would never forget the look on your face—wide-eyed and embarrassed as hell.
He thought it was the funniest thing in the world and he found it quite entertaining.
He found you quite entertaining.
Billy was so accustomed to girls throwing themselves at him; it was something he had gotten used to since he hit puberty. And although he enjoyed all the flirtatious looks and comments girls threw at him, he eventually grew bored of it.
However, you and Billy shared a common craving. Whether it was for love, excitement, intimacy, or entertainment, both of you yearned for something more.
.
“Shit guys, we totally forgot to hang up banners in the gym for tomorrow's basketball game!” You screamed like a madwoman startling the entire student council.
With just two minutes left until dismissal, exhaustion hung heavy in the air. The entire week had been a relentless blur of preparation for the school's stupid pep rally and its accompanying activities. By this point, everyone, including you, was over it.
As the bell rang, everyone dashed out of the classroom as if their lives depended on it. They gave you apologetic looks, patted your shoulder, and mumbled every excuse imaginable to avoid putting up those banners in the school gym.
“So fuck me huh?!” you yelled after them, throwing both your arms up in frustration before dropping them in defeat.
As head of the student council, you couldn't afford to procrastinate. The principal had emphasized that those banners had to be up and ready for tomorrow's game, or there would be consequences. That prick didn't intimidate you in the slightest, but, you had a reputation to maintain, and everything had to be flawless.
You huffed and grumbled as you entered the gym, your arms hugging a variety of large banners needing to be hung up. Your frustration completely blinded you to the sight of the gym full of shirtless basketball players.
Suddenly, a basketball collided with your shoulder at full speed, knocking the banners out of your arms.
The gym erupted in laughter.
“This isn't the student council club you do know that right kooks?” Tommy H. yelled from the court, laughing, trying so hard to impress his dickhead teammates.
Kooks.
They had given you that nickname after the scene you caused at Tina's Halloween party last year. It's the reason you no longer associate yourself with that crowd.
You remember it like it was yesterday.
You arrived at Tina's party with Tommy and Carol by your side, just one week after your harrowing experience of getting stuck in the Upside Down. It probably wasn't the wisest decision to be out, and you knew it. You had been home, cutting class, and ignoring their calls, and they had noticed a change in you. You were easily irritable and on edge. Carol even made a snide comment about how you'd probably been hanging out with Munson, snorting too much Special K.
According to them, you were a real drag to be around. So, they dragged you out of the house, urging you to let loose and forget about whatever it was you were dealing with. And so you did. You drank until you couldn't feel anymore, indulging in anything and everything that was being passed around.
Carol was never truly your friend; she was someone you grew up with and were kind of forced to know. She never really cared for you, so it was no surprise when you overheard her snickering with a few girls from the cheer squad.
They all eyed you up and down as you drunkenly swayed to the music.
“Wonder what hell she's been living; she's out of fucking control,” Carol remarked, smacking her gum as she laughed with the girls next to her, rolling her eyes at you.
Your ears perked up at her words, and they echoed in your head on a relentless loop, amplified by the effects of alcohol and marijuana.
Hell. Hell. Hell.
Images from that fateful night flooded your mind—the frantic sprint through the woods, the desperate attempt to escape the unknown terror pursuing you. You ran until your lungs burned and your legs gave out, only to find yourself in a place that resembled home but felt like a nightmare. It was as though you had fallen into a pit and landed in a realm you could only describe as hell. Darkness enveloped everything, the air thick with swirling black particles, and a monstrous creature hunted you down as if you were its final prey.
Tears welled up at the memory, and you couldn't hold back any longer. You had been bottling up your emotions, feeling isolated because what you had experienced sounded utterly unbelievable.
You charged at Carol and shoved her into the wall, causing picture frames of Tina's seemingly perfect family to crash to the floor.
Like the breaking picture frames, the smiles masking their true essence shattered that night, much like your own exterior, revealing the turmoil within.
You started to laugh manically, tears spilling out of your eyes.
“Oh, Carol, you haven't seen hell,” you chuckled, leaning in to whisper in her ear. “It's right beneath this town, and it's anything but pretty. It's downright awful.”
Carol was frightened tears threatening to spill from her eyes, she felt powerless in this position.
“Hey! What the hell is your problem, Y/L/N? Get off of her!”Tommy yelled, rushing towards you and Carol, pulling you away from her.
You pushed him back. “Don't you dare put your fucking hands on me!” you yelled, your words laced with venom. He backed away, refocusing his attention on Carol, attempting to comfort her throbbing head.
The images flashed in your head: your screams, the Demogorgon, the overwhelming sense of isolation. You turned to face the party, and all eyes were on you as the music came to a sudden stop.
“How can you all just sit here and party,”you screamed, your voice growing louder, more terrifying with each word. Nobody dared to approach you or even attempt to calm you down. It was clear you were experiencing a psychotic break.
You hadn't spoken to Steve in months, ever since he started distancing himself from you, Tommy, and Carol. But you couldn't forget the moment when he threw you over his shoulder, with Nancy by his side, and dragged you out of that party.
That night, you cried until you fell asleep, finding comfort in the presence of Nancy Wheeler and your old friend Steve Harrington. When you woke up the next day, you found yourself in Nancy's bed, and they bombarded you with all sorts of questions. You ended up sharing the horrifying experiences you had down there, and for the first time in a long while, you didn't feel alone. Now, you were stuck with a new nickname and a family bonded by the traumas of the Upside Down.
You laughed at the memory but the anger you felt in the moment snapped you back to reality.
The basketball rolled to the side, catching your attention. With all eyes on you, including Billy's intrigued gaze, you felt an itch for release. Without a second thought, you picked up the ball and with one swift motion, threw it at full speed. It struck the side of Tommy's head, catching him completely by surprise as he was too preoccupied trying to make his teammates laugh.
“You do realize there's a basketball game tomorrow, right? Maybe you should practice your passes a little more, you fucking prick!” you shot back, mimicking his tone with a hint of venom.
The laughter in the gym was quickly replaced by a chorus of “oooh's,” and Tommy was visibly seething with anger, clutching the side of his head where the basketball had struck him.
“You're so lucky you're a girl, freak!” Tommy yelled, pointing his finger at you in frustration.
You smiled and flipped him the bird.
Your reaction sparked something in Billy's gut, a mix of amusement and something else. He couldn't help but burst into laughter, though you might not have noticed being too preoccupied with picking the banners up.
Before he even realized it, Billy found himself inexplicably drawn towards you, as if some invisible force was guiding his steps.
Like his legs had minds of their own.
“That was quite a throw,” a deep, angelic voice sounded from behind you. Shit, you had totally forgotten he was here.
“Those throws are especially reserved for dickheads,” you retorted without turning around, your face turning as red as a tomato.
Billy's chuckle caught you off guard, something you never thought you'd hear up close. As you started to walk off to finish what you came here for, you heard him clear his throat, stopping you in your tracks.
“Aren't you forgetting something?” he questioned, giving you no choice but to turn around and see what he was referring to.
And god all mighty
There he was, shirtless. His tan skin glistened with sweat, revealing defined abs and muscular arms. Geez, you could've passed out right then and there.
He wore a proud smirk, revealing a perfect set of teeth as he held out the tape you needed for the banners. You almost drooled at the sight of him, feeling your core heat up and your cheeks flush.
“Oh, uh—thanks” you nervously said, quickly grabbing the tape from his hand. Surprisingly, you still maintained eye contact. God, he loved the effect he had on you.
“You need any help with those?” he chuckled once again. That's twice now; one more and you might just jump on him.
“Don’t you have to get ready for tomorrow’s game?” You asked timidly.
Jesus, why did you care?
“They can’t overwork their star player sweetheart.” He winked, once again flashing his pearly whites
You died and went to heaven at this point.
Sweetheart? That wink?
Your mouth hung open and he left you speechless, like a crazed fan girl. You started to wonder how he’d look at you if you were on your knees taking all of him.
How he’d talk to you..
“Look at you taking all of me sweetheart.”
God you really needed to get your shit together.
“Come on sweetheart don’t leave me hanging,” he said as he waved his hand in your face, trying to bring you back to reality.
He really needed to stop calling you that.
“Um, yeah, I guess I could use a little help,” you said, swallowing harshly. Your gaze shifted from the banners in your hands to his lips.
You really hated how flustered you got around him but a small part of you loved these new feelings.
“Great.” he responded with a cheeky grin.
You found yourself not being much help; he took charge and handled the banner hanging almost entirely by himself. He insisted on doing it, claiming it was the gentlemanly thing to do.
Tommy looked over at the two of you, confused. Billy Hargrove being a gentleman, especially to the psycho? Hell must've frozen over, he thought.
With Billy taking on the work, you had no choice but to stand there, looking all pretty, as you ripped pieces of tape with your mouth and passed them to him. You guided him on how to position the banners into place.
You couldn't help but notice the way his back muscles flexed when he reached up to position the banner, sending a flutter through your stomach.
You’d never been this close to him.
It also didn’t help that he brushed his fingers against yours every time he went to grab a piece of tape from you. And with him on the stool, towering above you, looking down at you, there was plenty of room for imagination for you both.
You were convinced he was trying to fucking kill you. Was he aware of the effect he had on you?
Every touch from him sent every single nerve in your body into a frenzy.
And those were just your fingers; you could only imagine what would happen if his fingers touched the spot you longed for him the most.
In the past few weeks, Billy had noticed that he was always running into you one way or another. So, he decided he might as well make it fun.
You were different from the girls he usually pursued, and he liked that. It made things all the more exciting. Billy had learned a few things about you: you were timid but had a backbone, responsible (an assumption he made because you were the student council president), and not too worried about your appearance, which didn't really matter because you were already breathtakingly beautiful.
“LADIES, HUDDLE UP! HARGROVE, GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE!” Coach Williams's voice rang out, snapping both you and Billy out of your thoughts.
Billy climbed off the step stool and leaned in towards your ear, catching you completely by surprise. He whispered, "Glad I can be of help, sweetheart. If you need help with anything else, I'm only one house away." With a smirk, he pulled back and left to return to his team captain duties.
The hot of this breath made your body shiver.
The look on your face was embarrassing, with your cheeks hot and your mouth slightly hanging open. Billy would never forget it; in fact, the mere sight of your mouth hanging open made him twitch in his pants as his imagination ran wild once again.
Your thoughts wouldn't allow you peace of mind as you finished tidying up the banners into place. Lost in thought, you hadn't even noticed that everyone had already left the gym, leaving you alone in the empty space.
The sound of the door gym doors opening startled you, snapping you back to reality.
You smiled at the sight of the tall brunette.
“Ah if it isn’t King Steve” you say teasingly, “or should I say EX King Steve who has been dethroned by the new California hottie.” You tease poking at his face
“Ha. Ha. Ha.” Steve replied dryly swatting your fingers away, taking fake offense to your comment.
Steve could care less about his so called “throne” he had new priorities, which consisted of ooking after you and his newfound family of children.
“Very funny y/n,” he said sarcastically.
Steve couldn't help but wonder if you and Billy had been hanging out. He had noticed how fond you had grown of him ever since he stepped into town. Lately, he had observed a change in your demeanor, how excited you were to get home, and how your face lit up at the sound of Billy's name. Steve could practically feel the butterflies radiating off of you.
“Hanging around is pushing it, Steve. We're just neighbors,” you reply, with a slight blush on your face that doesn’t go unnoticed by Steve.
“Yeah, I don't blush when someone mentions Agatha, my next-door neighbor,” he scoffs, shivering at the thought of his creepy stalker neighbor.
You roll your eyes at him, though it's quickly replaced with a smirk. “Well, Billy isn't a creepy stalker,”you say, though you wouldn't mind if he was. “Plus, he's kinda hot,”you finish, nudging his shoulder as you two make your way out of the gym.
“Yeah, gross,” Steve dramatically gags, though he also cringes at the slight twinge of jealousy he keeps feeling in his stomach.
You and Steve never hooked up. However, you two did develop some weird feelings for each other, but it was probably because you were so close to dying together.
You frown at the memory you thought was going to be the last.
Vines from the Upside Down began to wrap around your neck and body. Steve was right next to you, suffering the same fate. He looked at you, his heart breaking at the fear in your eyes. Trying to bring you some comfort, he gathered as much strength as he could and reached his hand out for yours, interlocking them together.
Thankfully, Eddie and Dustin saved you and everyone who thought it would be a bright idea to fight off Vecna. Ever since that day, though, Steve has been attached to your hip, making sure you get home safely after school and always ensuring you aren't alone.
Sometimes he'd find himself gazing at your lips or absentmindedly brushing away strands of hair that danced across your face on a windy day.
Steve didn’t know where you two stood. Neither of you had made a move, and he was too afraid to make one and face rejection.
You weren't sure how you felt about Steve, but you knew how you felt about Billy, and that feeling was becoming increasingly difficult to brush off.
“Coach still benching you for tomorrow's game?” you ask, changing the subject immediately. You regret it the moment you see the disappointment on Steve's face.
Basketball was his first love and ever since Billy got to town he’s slowly been losing the love he once held for the game.
He ran a hand through his messy head of hair and sighed.
“Yeah, thanks to your boy toy over there,” Steve says, glaring at the blonde who was a car away from Steve's. You wrap your arms around him as you two reach his burgundy BMW.
“You're a great player, Steve,” you state matter of factly, squeezing him a little tighter. “I think everything that's been going on—the Upside Down, us fighting interdimensional monsters, and almost dying—has taken a toll on you.” You reassure him and then let go to look into his eyes.
“It's normal to have a little setback; it's understandable. Plus, you've saved the world multiple times!” you said, slapping his chest lightly. “That beats being a starter on the stupid Hawkins High basketball team any day.”You finished, smiling at him.
Steve’s eyes softened at your words and smiled.
Christ, this is exactly why his feelings were a mess for you.
Steve brought you in for a tight hug because words couldn’t express how grateful he was for you.
From the next car down, Billy observed the two of you and couldn't shake the thought: had you and Harrington ever been a thing? The idea unsettled him because Billy Hargrove didn’t want to share you.
.
Steve dropped you off at home, as he usually did. He would usually stay for a bit and keep you company, but tonight he promised Dustin he’d take him to Mike’s for their D&D campaign.
You walked into the house, which was eerily quiet and empty, as it always was. Switching on the kitchen light, you noticed a note attached to the fridge.
Be back in the morning. Love you. -Dad
You sighed as a your traced your finger up down the note.
Your father traveled for work most of the time as a tech service representative for a variety of chemical companies. He'd often be gone for days, sometimes even weeks, so being alone was something you had grown accustomed to.
Your relationship with your father was also very complicated. You would even say it was nonexistent, given that he was always gone, and when he was around, he'd sleep the days away.
You pretended like it didn’t bother you but deep down it was something that made the cavity in your heart unbearable.
You weren't completely alone, though. Steve and you bonded over your shared loneliness, as both of his parents were also always away on business trips, calling only once a week, if he was lucky.
He'd often spend the night at your place, or you'd spend the night at his, rewatching ‘The Breakfast Club’ or ‘Sixteen Candles,’ his personal favorite, although he wouldn't admit that to anyone.
The bond between you two wasn't solely fueled by loneliness; fear played a significant role as well. It was the fear of that night—the night your friends almost died—that kept you together.
You felt goosebumps travel throughout your body at the thought of it. You instantly shook it off and decided to wash your feelings away with a warm, hot shower. You dreaded the night to come because of the insomnia you developed this past year of living in this small town. But thankfully, you had a couple of your favorite romance novels on deck to keep you occupied throughout the night.
You slipped into one of Eddie’s well-worn Metallica tees, its length reaching down to your knees. It was a keepsake from the day you and the gang had spent the night at his trailer, after an exciting evening of sneaking into the Hawkins community pool.
It was one of your favorite memories you’ve made in this shit town.
After slipping on the tee, you put on some black laced panties you pulled from you drawer.
You glanced over to your window, partially covered by your curtains, and wondered what the dirty blonde was up to. Curious, you walked over and took a peek, wondering where he was because he was usually out at this time, either smoking a cigarette or sitting in his car, or doing both at once.
Like clockwork, he slammed his front door, grabbing the red lighter he always kept in his back pocket and reaching it to the cigarette hanging out of his pink lips.
He cupped the cigarette out of habit and lit it, inhaling the silent killer.
He then hopped onto the hood of his car and reclined, still smoking the cigarette as he gazed at the starlit sky, lost in deep thought.
You wanted to join him, eager to learn more about the California boy, even if he didn't show interest in you. Something inside you just needed to know who Billy Hargrove was.
You also wanted to try to settle the intense feelings coursing through your body.
You stared at him for what felt like a lifetime, admiring his chiseled jawline, how his pretty blue eyes looked in the moonlight, and the rhythmic pattern of his inhaling and exhaling cigarette smoke.
Fuck you cigarette.
You envied his cigarettes.
You wanted to be inhaled and exhaled like that, and you didn’t even care if you were disregarded like them when he was done.
Billy felt your gaze through the window, and as he smirked, you couldn't help but notice. Despite being caught, you couldn't suppress a smile of your own.
Billy sat up and looked directly into your window. Your face grew flustered as you two made eye contact, but you held it, unable to look away.
You pushed yourself to do something you found so uncomfortable and you ignored the negative thoughts running through your head.
Billy tossed his cigarette to the ground and he was about to pick up a new one.
That being you.
You quickly threw on some discarded sweats from the floor and made your way to the front door. As you wrapped your hand around the doorknob, you hesitated for a minute. Nervousness gripped you, but you were determined to make things different this year. You wanted to push yourself beyond your comfort zone. No longer content with just fantasizing about romance, you wanted to live it, even if it meant risking a broken heart in the process. After all, at least you'd have a story to tell.
The cool night breeze kissed your face, sending shivers down your spine as you stepped out of your door. Closing it behind you, you were wrapped in darkness, illuminated only by the soft glow of the streetlights. Your heart raced as you descended off the few steps of your front porch.
As you turned the corner, you were met with Billy Hargrove's infuriating smirk. It would've been irritating if you didn't harbor this crush for him. With determination, you walked in front of his car, mere inches away from where he sat. Your heart threatened to beat out of your chest.
“Hi,” you spoke up slightly out of breath. Billy knew it was nervousness that caused you to sound that way.
You think back to the conversation you had earlier in the day.
“If you ever need help with anything, I’m only one house away.”
You wanted something. You knew what you wanted, and you knew what him meant by it, but you didn’t want to jump his bones immediately. You wanted to get to know him, and maybe that was foolish of you given his reputation, but you didn’t care. You knew you couldn't judge someone based on rumors.
“Hi, Y/N,” Billy greeted with a chuckle, his eyes roaming over your figure. He noticed your shirt and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.
“You listen to Metallica?” Billy questioned, his gaze shifting to Eddie's worn-out black tee. "Oh, this?" you said, grabbing onto the thin material of your shirt. “No, it's a friend's. He let me borrow it,” you partially explained, letting out a shaky laugh.
“Hmm, didn't peg Harrington for the metal type either,” Billy remarked, assumingly lighting yet another cigarette.
"You think Steve's my only male friend?" you asked, raising an eyebrow. "You have more than one?" Billy questioned back, the movement of lighting his cigarette coming to a short pause, his eyes widening momentarily. Billy could take Harrington, but any other male suitors would be a problem for him.“Is that a problem, Hargrove?” you questioned, once again amused by his reaction. Was he jealous?
He laughed and took a drag from his cigarette. He looked so beautiful like this, the view from your window couldn’t compare to the view you had right now. Despite the chill outside, you felt a warmth spreading through you.
“Not that I can’t compete with Harrington and?” He asked waiting for you to provide the name of said friend.
Compete?
“Eddie,” you said filling in the blank for him. “Ah, Munson, the freak,” he chuckled, taking yet another drag from his cigarette.
“You do know you’re talking to right? You remark, raising an eyebrow at him hinting that you fell into the same category as Eddie.
“Never said I had a problem with ‘freaks’,” he said smiling, as he looked down at your lips before meeting your gaze. “If I’m being honest they’re my favorite types of people.” He added licking his lips.
You gulped as his intense gaze met yours. He was undeniably gorgeous. The ache between your legs begged for relief, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he noticed, especially when he then asked,
“Come sit,” he said, making space for you on the hood of his car. You obliged, sitting on the cool surface, crossing your legs, relieving some type of pressure. “You smoke?” he asked, handing you the lit cigarette. You took the cigarette, his warm fingers slightly touching your cold ones.
“Nope, but there's a first time for everything, right?” you smiled, taking a drag of the cigarette. The sensation immediately made you almost cough out a lung and you hadn’t even inhaled it completely. Billy laughed once again and slid his hand onto your back, lightly patting it attempting to ease your coughing fit.
You handed the cigarette back to him and laughed, the coughing fit dying down. “Yeah, first and last time doing that. God, that is nothing like weed,” you remarked.
Billy removed his hand from your back, and you couldn't help but groan slightly at the loss of touch. He looked at you with an amused smile. "I could only imagine how you reacted to hitting a joint," he said with a grin.
“Oh, trust me, it was nothing like that. I almost died just now,”you said as you wiped the tears that formed in your eyes from coughing.
You leaned back on his car like he did on countless nights and looked up at the starlit sky. Billy did the same after putting out his cigarette. "The only good thing about this shit town is how pretty the sky looks at night," you said. He looked up at the sky and thought the same. There were so many stars, each one representing hope.
"And the rain," he added, which surprised you. “But you're from California, it’s all sun over there!” You exclaimed, giggling a bit.
“Yeah, I know,” he smiled at your excitement. “It hardly rains over there, but I loved it when it did,” he said, reminiscing about his life in California.
“I liked sitting in my car and listening to the rain; it brings me some sort of peace of mind. Especially here, it's stronger and louder, drowns out the thoughts,” he added, tapping his head in a playful manner.
You smiled at his explanation.
“It makes me feel like a kid again,” you added, your voice soft with nostalgia. "Running around, no jacket, laughing, feeling the water down your face and drenching your clothes. Sometimes I sit outside and look up at the sky, enjoying the way it feels on my face," you said, still smiling at the sky above.
Billy turned his head to look at you now, and you were oblivious to it for the first time. He felt his heart skip a beat at your explanation and the way you smiled at the sky full of stars. From that moment on, Billy was determined to know more about you.
You two continued talking, giggling, sneaking glances at each other, but it all came to a halt when you both heard a loud slam from the door of his house. A man in his mid-40s descended down the stairs of Billy’s front porch and made his way towards you both. Billy straightened up immediately at the sight of this man.
“It’s late,” the man spat, keeping his eyes on Billy, completely ignoring your presence. “Get inside; you need to take Maxine and yourself to school tomorrow.”
“Hi, sir,”you timidly intervened. “I'm Y/N. I live next door. I'm sorry for keeping Billy out so late. We were just talking about class, and I lost track of time.” You finished
Billy looked at you in shock as if you said something out of turn.
He looked you up and down with a deadpanned look before giving you a tight-lipped smile and nodded. Then, he gave Billy a warning glance before leaving. Odd. You thought.
You noticed the shift in Billy’s demeanor he was noticeably uncomfortable and even seemed scared. Billy took a deep breath after his father left and ran a hand over his face, visibly tense.
“You okay?” You carefully asked not wanting to overstep any boundaries.
“Yeah, I will be,”he exhaled, mustering up a small smile. “Thank you for tonight. I'll see you around, Y/N.” With that, he left. You waited until he made it inside and you returned home yourself.
As you stepped into the house, the loneliness of it consumed you once again. But you disregarded it, shaking it off, because a bigger part of you felt content and happy.
.
Billy grew accustomed to loneliness; sometimes, he even preferred it. But when he saw how present his friends' parents were in their lives, the loneliness spread and often consumed him. His mother was gone, her whereabouts unknown, leaving him abandoned and stuck with his monstrous father. He had the shell of a parental figure, but in reality, his father was a bully, a coward. This left Billy feeling trapped and hopeless, like a prisoner in his own home, with no one to relate to, no one to vent to, nothing.
When Billy made it inside his house he had already prepared himself for the worst. His father was seated on the sofa waiting for him to come in.
“I'm sorry, sir, I lost track of—“ Neil raised his hand to stop him from explaining, and like a trained soldier, Billy shut his mouth immediately. Neil stood up, making his way towards him. Billy flinched as Neil raised his hand, and to Billy’s surprise, he patted his shoulder. Billy furrowed his brows in confusion; he hated his father's touch. “Nice girl,” Neil remarked before walking past him and heading to his room.
What the fuck?
Anger coursed through Billy’s veins, his heart beating furiously in his chest. Why you? What the hell was so special about you that had Neil Hargrove's fatherly approval? Billy scoffed. He didn’t care if he'd get beatings for what he had planned or about your feelings at the moment, but he was going to royally piss his father off. Fuck his approval. He didn’t want it nor did he care for or it.
Billy disregarded his strong feelings for you and decided to be the dick he knew himself to be.
Tags:
#eddie munson#stranger things#billy hargrove#dacre montgomery#billy hargrove x reader#steve harrington#steve x reader#nancy wheeler#billy hargrove smut#steve x billy#billyhargroveseries#Steve x female reader#billy hargrove x female reader
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MOTORBIKES & MELATONIN
synopsis: sleep doesn't find you in the comfort of your own home or under the covers tucked safely into your bed— sleep finds you in the warmth of park jisung's arms
wc: 1.1k
pairings: jisung × fem!reader, established relationship
genre: fluff
warnings: insomnia + mentions of using sleeping pills/supplement use of the word drug (literally once), speeding (follow the speed limit 🙏)
notes: emosung brainrot is in full swing (though there's not a lot of emosung mentioned) mostly self indulgent so probably not my best work since I was all up in my head but 🤷♀️
you're laying on your bed, aimlessly bouncing the soft tennis ball in your hand against the empty space of the wall just above your headboard. sleep never came easy to you and tonight is no different.
you'd tried it all, counting sheep, drinking warm milk, even meditation but nothing ever worked. instead you spent nights tossing and turning restlessly despite being tucked into the warm covers of your bed, chasing sleep.
just as you reach for the purple bottle that lays next to your bed, ready to pour half the jar of supplements into your hand and gulp them down with a glass of water, you hear it.
your perfect form of melatonin and serotonin mixed in one— your drug, your purpose.
the rumble is distinct. it comes with the soft vibration beneath your feet and the deep reverberation in your ears. the roaring of the v twin engine has you shooting up into a seated position as realisation washes over you
there's a dim red glow cast across your room by the break lights as you grab the loose fit leather jacket that rests over the back of your study chair. the woody oriental cologne still lingers through its material as you place it over your shoulders and run out of the front door.
there he is, helmet gripped loosely in his left hand, his right arm open and ready to welcome you into his embrace.
jisung's black hair flows in the wind, his forehead on show— paired with the soft smile he flashes you, you can't help but think he looks perfect.
"didn't even give me a chance to sneak into your room" he sulks taking you in between his arms, giving you a quick spin as he presses a soft kiss to your forehead
"can't blame a girl for wanting to see her boyfriend" you sigh, taking in his warmth with a smile
"yeah?" he pulls back to get a better view of your face, "miss me that much angel?"
"you know it sung"
his laugh is deep yet gentle, eyes sparkling at the sight of you
"well I'm here now"
jisung takes a quick step around you, his touch feather light as he gathers your open hair into a low ponytail, reaching for the hair tie on his wrist to tie it back
"too tight?" he says, voice full of worry and concern— when you shake your head he smiles, placing his helmet over your head
you wonder how people could ever think jisung was anything but the sweet, kind and warm hearted lover you knew, who wouldn't dare let you move an inch to do something he could do for you, like how he gently takes ahold of you in his arms and places you onto the seat of his bike, eventually taking your arms and wrapping them around his waist
"hold on tight" he whispers in that caring tone of his, that's reserved solely for you, ready to whisk you away for the night and you do just that, gripping his waist securely, but not before lifting his visor and pressing a quick kiss to his temple
jisung drives off, wordlessly but with a smile that speaks volumes
there's a warmth that radiates from jisung's body, the only thing keeping you from freezing as the wind rushes past you, blowing with harsh whistles, tyres screeching against the ground as he takes sharp turns through the streets leading towards the countryside
you'd snuck out before, driven way too far over the speed limit, done countless things that would define your reckless youth and yet nothing had your veins coursing with quite so much adrenaline as this, driving way too far, way too fast, with jisung, the person you loved way too much
like always, you find yourself in jisung's lap, god forbid he let you sit on the grass, wet from the fresh morning dew that rests over it, warm hues of orange and light pinks taking over the sky as you hold one another close, the wind still blowing strong gusts your way, your hair blowing in your face until jisung decides to take it between his fingers and hold it back in his palm
"I like this" you whisper, just loud enough that jisung hears it, his lip rising just enough for his teeth to come on show
"I like you" he responds, watching the warm glow of the sun reaching over the horizon through your eyes
"you do?" you smile, wider than you previously had been, it's a smile that reaches your eyes and jisung's unwavering gaze grows brighter at the realisation
"you're my girl, of course I do"
this time it's his turn to press a quick kiss to your forehead, but jisung's greedy, especially so when it comes to you and he can't help but want more, honey brown eyes resting on your lips
"give me a kiss and I think I'll love you forever" you can't help but giggle at the tickling feeling of jisung's hair against your neck as he pouts up at you
"yeah? didn't know my boyfriend needed kisses to do that" you tease with a roll of your eyes
"didn't know your what?" he asks, and you know exactly what jisung's doing, so you whisper the answer with nothing more than a shy smile straight into his ear
"my boyfriend"
"present" jisungs hand is raised and his voice is confident when he looks at you again, it's like he's begging you to tug at his shirt and crash your lips against his, and who were you to say no to him
"you're so cute" you let out between kisses, the bridge of your nose resting against jisung's, who now wears a look of faux offence
"yeah?" he asks, hoping you'll change your mind, though you don't let up, reaching out to ruffle his black hair "only for you"
somewhere between the late hours of the night and the early hours of dawn, between the quietus of your bedroom and the roar of his engine, between gazing up at the stars and watching the sunrise by the harbour— jisung hears your soft snores replace the quiet whispers of awe you once breathed out.
despite it all, jisung's smile remains all the same, radiant, warm and masked by the matte black helmet resting atop his head
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