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yikimiki · 6 months

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>> bones and ashes

⚔️ sukuna x fem!reader | warnings for: violence, mentions of death, possessiveness (sukuna is as evil as they come so basically every red flag under the sun), non-con that turns into dub-con (Stockholm syndrome), mentions of virginity loss, anatomically impossible size difference (if u know what I mean), blood play, etc | around 5-6k words | also important to note that I absolutely assassinated the canon lore in some points but bare with me

Sukuna doesn’t really have the ability to love. But he thinks he gets close enough when it comes to you. Of course, in his own twisted, macabre way.

Sukuna isn’t familiar to the concept of fondness, let alone anything more profound or meaningful than that. He knows want, desire, possession, curiosity even. But none of those feelings have ever tilted towards the side of affection, nor does he want them to. They’re all narcissistic pulses that keep pushing him forward — towards more power, more control, more of what he can become. He’s not even fond of his own abilities. Arrogant? Perhaps, but not fond. He can’t be fond of something he knows is not at its peak yet, that would just be weakness.

And Sukuna is everything but weak.

He sees you in a cold winter morning and he does what he knows best: he takes. Takes your pride, your virginity, your blood. Takes you like he took the lives of the rest of your village, paints your skin red and watches as the tears wash it away. Sukuna takes and takes until you have nothing left to give, just like he has done countless times before and yet… this time, something switches.

This time, he decides to let you live. Trapped in a dark cell, of course, but alive regardless.

The days move slowly, and you learn to mark their passing by the loud, clanking sound of a metal dish being thrown through a cracked door. The food is mostly raw meet and, after a few days of disgust, you cave in and eat a little of it. Not enough to be satisfied, not even close, but enough to keep you alive for at least a few hours longer.

Sukuna comes by in irregular intervals, and you soon give up on trying to find a pattern in his visits. You know it’s him from the way the door creaks open even further to accommodate his size, and you watch as his large shadow observes your movements for a moment before he kicks the disgusting plate towards you. Most of time time he’s there, you force yourself to eat, afraid of what should come if you turn down his unspoken commands. Once he seems satisfied, he exits without a word.

There is one single advantage in being in a windowless, isolated cell: you can’t hear what goes on up there. You’ve heard enough the day that Sukuna came to your village — the shattering screams, the pleads for mercy, the babies crying, the sound of wood and bone breaking almost too similar to differentiate. You saw creatures beyond your realm and heard awful whispers and threats; held you family as they died and gave up as the snow beneath your hands became as red as the burning sky above. And you know enough about Sukuna’s legend to be aware that it wasn’t an isolated incident.

When evil incarnate arrives, there’s not much you can do but surrender.

Though, when it comes to the legends, you thought that his palace was more of a manner of speak than an actual location. Once again, though, you’ve heard enough legends to know when to stop inquiring about the details.

Sukuna comes in after a week with a plan and a cloud of amusement over his head — frankly, given the state you were in, he thought you would be dead by now. Your stubborn hold on life is as impressive as it is pathetic.

“You looked so small when I first saw you,” his thunderous voice breaks the silence. There’s no food in his hands this time, only the fire cracking behind his form. You’re sitting down on the cold floor, back against the wall, and you don’t even bother looking up at him. “You look even smaller now.”

You don’t answer, because you don’t know what to say. Of course you’re smaller — you’re weak, starving, lacking movement and sunlight. Every muscle in your body aches and the aftertaste of dried blood never leaves your mouth. Smaller is a compliment; you wish you were just bones and ashes by now.

Sukuna takes a heavy step inside the dark chamber. “I killed everyone you’ve ever loved that day,” he says, bluntly. There’s no amusement nor sorrow in his tone — it’s a neutral statement. He lowers himself to your level and, on the corner of your eyes, you see his four arms. He is so wrong, even in a physical sense. Like the scar of something that shouldn’t even exist. “And yet… you live. Do you want to know why?”

You sneer. “I wish you’d just let me die.”

He chuckles, and one hand meets the side of your head. His fingers dig into the dirty, messy strings and pulls on the roots. There are tears on the corners of your eyes but you refuse to let him see them. “That’s exactly why you’re alive,” he says. “I knew you were ready to die when I saw you — all bloodied up, on your knees in the snow. It was quite a sight.” Sukuna’s voice is a malicious whisper as he comes even closer to you — he smells rotten. The tongue that licks up your cheek makes you want to puke. He tastes you the same way as he did on the first day, and you have no idea what he’s searching for. “Tell me, why were you so ready to give yourself to me? Most try to plead at least.”

“Plead for what? Your mercy?” The sarcasm is clear through your tone. The words you mean to say are knotted in the base of your throat and the odor Sukuna reeks is making you dizzy; making you remember everything that came before this. “I— I didn’t have anything else to live for,” you stutter. “You killed… you killed my mother, my father, my baby brother… why would I want to live without them? Why would I humiliate myself asking for mercy from a creature that clearly doesn’t have any to spare?”

Through anger, you look up at him. His eyes are flames bursting through the darkness, and they shine as your words settle on his skin. “Do you only live for love, my little dove?” He asks. “What a purposeless life you have.”

“Do you only live for hate?” You ask back before you can hold your tongue. Somewhere in your mind, you know that he’s capable of unimaginable evil, but you are beyond the point of caution. “What a purposeless legacy you’re leaving behind.”

This angers him. The corners of his mouth twists as he speaks. “You people fear me. Even the strongest of sorcerers doesn’t dare to go against me.”

“I pity you and your ridiculous need for destroying what isn’t yours,” you spit. “And I hate you for keeping me alive. I hate you for everything you’ve done to me and to the people I love. And I hate that you even dare to come here and talk to me like I’m the smaller person for daring to care about something.”

The hands on your hair tighten and he pulls your face against his. Sukuna’s forehead is a furnace against yours, his eyes burn into your soul. “You little insect, I could kill you with a snap of my fingers if I wanted to.”

Your voice shakes but you say it regardless: “Do it, then, what are you waiting for?”

“No,” his answer is more cruel than death could ever be. And he knows that. “And you know why?”

“If you are keeping me alive to have your way with me, so be it, have it,” you say. The tears are obvious now. You wonder if he can smell how fearful you really are. “Violate me like you did before, I don’t care anymore, but just don’t keep me alive just to waste me away.”

His lips are touching yours now, but you can’t pull away even if you tried. Sukuna’s chest is heaving like he’s in the middle of a battle, his voice like a roar in your ears. “Then ask. For. My Mercy.”

“I w-would n-never…”

“Ask!” It’s a loud command that crashes against you like a wave. You sink like there is no adrenaline in your body to keep you afloat; the anger that moved you before is no longer within your reach.

The truth is clear: you’re human. He’s a curse — the king of curses, older than you could ever imagine; probably even more powerful than the legends you’ve heard. His eyes say that there are fates worse than death and you believe them. And maybe, just maybe, if you play by his rules, he’ll grow tired of you and let you wither away.

“P-Please,” you are sobbing now, tears falling down like a cascade. Sukuna licks them and hums in satisfaction, watching as you break apart into a mountain of hiccups and trembling limbs. “Please just… have mercy on me. I’ll do whatever you want just — please, stop torturing me like this.”

“Aw,” he coos. “Was that so hard?”

You want to say that yes, somehow, that took everything still left in you. You want to say that if he wanted to break your spirit, congratulations, he’s done it. But you don’t get the chance.

Sukuna kisses you with the same ferocity you expected, sharp teeth crashing against yours and tongue exploring your mouth with no prior warning. He groans as he tastes you — you, the blood in your food, the salt of your tears — and suddenly it’s all that he will ever crave again. You whimper against his lips as his two lower arms crawl up your thighs and hold onto your hips, pushing you against him as he stands up and presses you against the wall. You feel more caged now than you have felt these past few days.

“Silly little human,” he raps against your lips, then licks your cheek for more of your precious tears. He realizes how much he likes to make you cry. You wince and give out a little sob, which only makes him smile. Finally, his grip on your hair loosens. “What is my name?”

You blink, dumbfounded by the sudden question. “S-Sukuna…?”

He pouts. “Say it like you mean it or I won’t be so nice.”

“Sukuna,” you say more firmly this time.

“There we go, that’s a good girl,” he says. “See how things just work better when you don’t misbehave? Hm?”

You nod. He doesn’t like it. “Y-Yes, I see, I’m sorry.”

“Very good.” The hand that was on your hair moves to hold your face, and it’s so huge that you feel like it would crush your skull with one single movement. As the other two arms hold onto your thighs, the fourth limb squeezes your breast. “Now, this is what’s going to happen, my pretty little human,” Sukuna starts, “I will have my servants take you to my chambers. You will be washed, clothed, and taken care of. They will feed you proper human food this time, whichever it is that your heart desires. How does that sound?”

Sounds like a trap. “And, in return, what do I have to do for you?”

“What do I have to do for you…?” He raises his eyebrows.

“Sukuna,” you complete.

“There’s my perfect little girl,” he says. You hate that something inside you likes the praise. “You will have to wait for me there. Do whatever you prefer, but don’t leave my room. Any attempt at escaping or killing yourself will be futile, and I’ve already warned every single curse that your death will result in a much more dire future for them. So you will be brought back to me. And I promise I won’t be so nice.”

“I understand… Sukuna,” you correct yourself quickly. It doesn’t go unnoticed.

The hand on your breast squeezes tighter, and you bite your lip so you don’t complain. “I knew I was right when I brought you here, something made me spare you. Yet, I don’t know what it is just yet.”

Sukuna is a looming threat above you, his limbs trapping you, and his deep voice is like thunder about to break. You know why so many fear him — you fear him too. And the sooner you act like it, the sooner he’ll grow tired of you. Sooner he’ll realize he was wrong in bringing you into his fortress.

He smirks. “But I believe I’ll discover soon enough.”

- ⚔️ -

Sukuna’s chambers are as spacious and monstrous as himself — corners switching and adjusting like breathing flesh; furniture morphing into different shapes; the weird odor of something old; the feeling for something lurking. The large windows show a world between worlds; a reality that doesn’t seem right no matter how long you stare at it. His palace is in a dimension you can’t reach, and you give up on trying to understand it. If anything, the more you wonder about it, the more you shake under the weight of the sheer power it must take to keep it all existing like solid matter.

Your passage of time is morphed and unreliable, but you would guess that a couple weeks have passed by the time that you come to terms that, perhaps, Sukuna isn’t as easy to bore as you first expected. The fire in his eyes doesn’t seem to diminish as he sees you — if anything, his eagerness to have you all to himself only seems to expand — and the way he takes care of you makes you realize that he isn’t planning on letting you die anytime soon.

Life in his chambers is far more comfortable, you admit, but it’s a prison nonetheless. Still, you can’t say that you are mistreated. In his chambers, you are bathed and clothed, well-fed and pampered. You soon come back to your normal weight and the fatigue leaves your body; there is more space to move, more things to do. The curses that come to check on you seem to be strangely kind and human-like, though you know it’s out of fear and not out of worry, and they keep your mind occupied with several stories and legends as the days move on.

Sukuna is more absent than you would have imagined, conquering and killing as often as he can. When he finally comes to you he is clean, recently bathed, but you can still see he is fresh from a battle, some mindless corruption beyond the horizon that you would rather hear nothing about. There are shallow scars and deep cuts that heal unreasonably quickly; dried blood that hasn’t quite washed away and ashes beneath his fingernails.

You ask whose village he has attacked this time, but he says it doesn’t matter, because there are no survivors.

“I never leave any survivors,” he completes, kissing your forehead, “besides you, my little human.”

You don’t push beyond that information, but the feeling of being special, chosen, starts to blossom like a dangerous rose inside your chest. It stings and stings, but grows regardless, and you see yourself less able to fight against his possessive claims. You start to enjoy them. You start to wonder if life beyond those walls is worth fighting for when you seem to have everything you would ever wish for right here.

You can always tell when Sukuna is about to arrive in this world because the atmosphere switches into something darker, heavier. The air seems thicker and the clouds beyond your windows start to bleed into a deep shade of red. Sukuna returns with the apocalypse on his back, and, when he does, he uses your body as he pleases.

Like the room around you, there is constant change. Sometimes it hurts like hell; sometimes it’s pleasurable. Sometimes you wish it would just end and you end up crying in despair; sometimes you look at him like you might get used to feeling him inside of you. Some days, Sukuna is kinder, more patient, taking time to adjust you to his enormous size and even makes sure that you enjoy it before reaching his end; fucking you full of his cum until you can’t think of one single thing besides him. Other days, you know he is angry just by the way he walks through the door — and, in those days, you are left bleeding and bruised as he uses your body in every single way until he’s close enough to satisfied. That, on itself, can take a long, long time.

You realize that, during those violent days, he could use one of his curses to please himself, but he prefers to use you — because you bleed, you cry, and you suffer. As long as your pain exists, his interest is unwavering.

However, like everything else, you adapt, get used to it. Routine becomes familiar and you learn the tell-tale signs of his rancid mood; learn how to make it a little better and what things to avoid. You stop thinking about getting away — you don’t even have anywhere else to go — and start longing for his presence as he takes more time to come back home. Sukuna is warm, safe; next to him you know you are shielded from any harm. When he appears, no one dares to look or touch you, no one speaks until they are spoken to. Just by being in his gravitational pull, you are protected and no harm will ever come your way again.

Even if it hurts, you start hoping that he won’t get tired of you.

Sukuna, on the other hand, isn’t quite sure how he feels about it all.

It’s not love — he has gone over that one a few hundred times already, has marked off every possible scenario and imagined every possible feeling, and he is sure it isn’t love. To be frank, he doesn’t even think he’s capable of it even if he wanted to, he sold his soul too long ago to even remember how normal humans love. But if it’s not love, it’s something similar — a kind of tenderness, fondness. He has a soft spot for you, to put it bluntly. Though not in the typical sense.

Sukuna adores you like a painter adores his favorite canvas; like an exotic bird in a cage — he adores you with possession, obsession, with the knowledge that you can’t ever get away from his grip. He is fond of you in a way that he would murder anyone who would even dare to touch what is his; but would never set you free. He can hurt you, he can tear you into pieces and build you to his liking. Sukuna can kiss you or bite you; hug or break you, but it’s because you’re his little pet and no one else’s.

He is fond of the way you bend for him; the way you look at him with sheer adoration in your eyes even after he has taken everything from you. He is fond of the way that only he could kill you; that your small life is in his hands and you thank him for it. Sukuna is fond of the way your tight little cunt stretches so wide to take his fat cock; lives for the little whimpers you give out and the tears that stain his satin sheets when he finally allows you to cum for him. If he could crawl inside your soul, he would. If he could take it and eat it and have you forever, he would.

He doesn’t know why he craves you so much, but he knows that nothing else gives him the same high anymore.

So he keeps you.

It’s a heavy stormy night when he comes back the next time, and his room is only illuminated by a few candles and the lightening from outside. You’re in his large bed, looking as small as that day in the snow, and there is a touch of worry in your eyes that he doesn’t miss. But he ignores it.

“Undress,” he commands.

You rush to do as he says, throwing the faint fabric over your head. It falls to the ground as Sukuna walks towards the bed, his massive weight making it dip under his knee as he leans closer to you.

“My pretty little doll,” Sukuna muses. “Missed me?”

He always asks that. And your answer is always the same.

“So much, Sukuna.”

It’s more honest every time.

He hums, satisfied, and smirks as he pushes your hair away from your face. “I have something to tell you, and I think you will like it,” Sukuna says. You look at him with wide eyes as he settles over you, his four arms caging your body as you lay down. The mouth on his stomach open and closes, a large tongue coming out before it vanishes again — it always does it when he’s particularly excited. “Would you like to know what it is?”

You know he will tell you regardless. Like all the tales of his battles, he lives for the glimpse of horror in the back of your eyes. “Yes, Sukuna.”

“Seems like you are famous now,” he starts. You furrow your eyebrows. “Sorcerers are trying to save you. The poor little human girl that Sukuna took as a prisoner months ago.” He kisses your neck, then licks the skin. You shiver — months, it has been months then. “Two of them tried to enter my domain today, stupid little insects,” he continues. Another hand lands on your exposed breast, playing with your nipple. “You have no idea how enraged that made me, my little human. To have someone try to take you away from me; to try and to enter my domain and take you from me.”

His voice turns into a growl by the end of the sentence, and you feel the familiar pulse of terror running through your veins. He’s in a bad mood, that’s obvious, but there’s something hiding beneath that as well.

“What did you do to them?” You ask. “Did they get in?”

Sukuna chuckles darkly, and the hand that was on your breast now settles on your clit, massaging it softly. “I took care of them, my sweet thing, of course,” he says. Your breath hitches at the slow pleasure of his movements, and your eyes flutter shut. “No one will ever take you from me.”

“I don’t want to lose you,” you say without a thought. In your heart, you feel it’s wrong. But without him, you have nothing. “I’m yours forever, Sukuna.”

“I know you are,” he answers.

Sukuna holds you by the throat as he kisses you — not enough to suffocate you, but enough to make you a little dizzy. Your eyes cross mindlessly as his tongue invades your mouth; a deep groan coming from his chest as he tastes your lips. He always kisses you violently, possessively, like he wishes to suck your soul out of your chest. Beneath his size you can only shrink and hold onto his large biceps, the wetness between your legs growing as he takes what is his.

He pulls back, ignoring the string of saliva that connects you two. “Pretty little thing,” he muses, shoving his middle finger inside your mouth. “Suck for me.”

You do as he says and he smirks at the feeling of your pretty lips around his large finger. Soon enough, the same digit is invading your pussy, curling up so quickly that you see starts at your peripheral vision.

“Relax or it’ll hurt again,” he says — not like he cares about it. “I want you to remember tonight.”

“W-Why?”

“Because I’ll make sure that you’ll be mine forever,” he says, a devilish smile on the corners of his lips. “So no one can take you from me. No one would even try.”

Your breath is getting heavier, and you don’t even register what he’s telling you — he could do a billion things to you and you’d still let him. The time spent only in his company made your resolution vanish, and you became exactly what he wanted you to: another possession for him to do as he pleases. Because of him, you have nothing else. Besides him, you have nothing.

“You’re not cumming around my finger tonight,” he says and quickly removes his hand from your cunt. You whine at the sudden emptiness, walls spasming around nothing, but you know better than to protest. “It’s going to be around my cock, you got it?”

“Yes, Sukuna,” you say.

“Good girl,” he muses. His lower arms move to undo his pants as his mouth attacks yours once again. His sharp teeth drain blood from your lips and he groans at the metallic taste; drinks the little sob of pain you let out. “You’re all fucking mine. Forever,” he growls, “I’ll make you live forever with me.”

Months ago, that would be torture. But now, “It sounds like heaven, Sukuna,” you say. “I love you.”

Your vision falls to where his hands are working. His cock is massive, bigger than your forearm, balls swinging out of his shorts and falling heavy under his shaft. Your entire body tingles in anticipation as he strokes himself, aligning his cockhead with your opening. “Tiny fucking cunt,” he curses, rubbing it against your soaked folds. “I’ll train you to take my cock even better than now, kitten.” Your mouth falls open as he starts to push in and it hurts — no matter how many times you’ve taken him, it always burns. “Way too fucking tight for my fat cock, you know that?”

“I-I’m sorry, I’ll do better-“

He chuckles. “I fucking love it.”

In one strong motion, he shoves himself as deep as he can, pressing against your cervix as you whine at his size. It isn’t fair — it’s so thick you can’t even breathe, you can feel him in your stomach, pressing and pulsing until you can’t think of anything but the sheer size of his massive cock inside your poor little hole. Your walls hurt to accommodate his girth, stretching as far as they can, but it never seems like it’s enough.

“It’s t-too big, Sukuna,” you whine. And it is. You know he must be doing something to your body so you can even be alive right now, because it’s not humanly possible to take such a big cock. “I c-can’t…”

His hand lands on your head and pulls at the roots. “You are my special little human, my obedient little girl,” he reminds you. His cock throbs inside you and you whimper, the small movement alone makes you drool. “You will do anything I tell you to do.”

You nod. “Y-Yes.”

“So when I tell you to take it….” He rolls his hips even deeper and you call his name so loud that you’re sure the entire world will hear it. “You’ll fucking take it.”

You don’t even have the ability to answer as he starts to pound deep inside your soaked cunt, hard and violent, as he is. Your vision is blurry with tears as you look down to see his massive cock bullying itself again and again inside your cunt, taking everything you have to give.

“Look at me when I claim you,” Sukuna warns and you do it instantly. Your legs wrap around his hips and he squeezes your ass so hard it will bruise. There’s a malicious glint in his red eyes that never quite goes away, no matter how much he tries, and now it’s deadset on you. “My precious little girl,” he calls, voice strained with pleasure. You can tell from the way his cock throbs that he is close, but it doesn’t matter. He just keeps going. “You told me you love me. Do you only live for love, kitten?”

“I live f-for loving you, S-Sukuna,” you respond automatically. “I live for you.”

Sukuna groans like an animal — he adores what a stupid little fuckdoll he has turned you into. He can never get tired of this; he can never let it get away. “You’ll die for me, kitten?”

You nod so quickly you get dizzy. “Yes, a-anything… I’m yours f-forever.”

He calls your name like he has never done before, a little insane, a little sweet. If the sheer size of Sukuna’s genitals aren’t anything to go by, he cums a lot — it oozes out of your cunt before he’s even halfway through, cock throbbing and leaking again and again until you’re filled to the brim. His huge balls smack against your ass as he continues to bully himself inside you, a little more desperate now, intoxicated by his own pleasure.

There’s no rest, there never is. He only takes and takes.

“I’ll make you mine,” he groans.

“I’m yours, Sukuna, I’m yours…” you repeat like a broken record, half-aware of your own voice through the loud moans and hiccups. You watch in ecstasy as he uses one of his sharp nails to cut the palm of his hand, blood oozing out of it and dropping on your breasts. It’s like you know what he will say even before he says it. “You want me t-to-“

“Drink it.”

Perhaps you should be scared, but you’re not. Your mouth opens without a second thought and he presses his large palm on your lips, muffling your moans and allowing the hot dark liquid to invade your tongue. Sukuna’s blood is thick and it tastes like poison, but you do as he says, liking his flesh and drinking it until he seems satisfied and takes his hand away.

It strikes your body like an arrow, straight through your chest and expanding like deep roots. You feel as his blood burns your insides, changing something in your very existence. It’s hard to think through the sensations — the pleasure building up, the venom running through your veins, the mixture of devotion and fear that dances inside your mind. Your vision is double, black around the edges, and you think you might be cumming but you’re not sure you can even feel your body anymore. Sukuna’s voice echoes muffled in the background, and you can see his mouth moving in slow motion, but you don’t understand his words. You think you are crying. You think you can’t breathe. You think you are dying and being born at the same time and you don’t know why you feel so grateful for it all.

Your lungs are on fire and your throat is dry. You try to speak, but can’t. You have the vague flashback of the time your uncle made you drink alcohol, it burns just the same, but this time, no one is laughing. This time, you’re dying.

“… at me.”

This time, Sukuna’s voice rings sharp and clear. You stare at him, confused, as the flames inside your chest slowly subside.

“Keep looking at me,” he repeats, commanding.

You try to nod, but your head doesn’t move. You can’t see the room around you anymore. “H-Hurts,” you manage to get out.

“I know,” he says, and there’s a touch of softness in his voice you don’t ignore. “Focus on me. I’ll make it feel better.”

And that’s what you try to do, even if your soul seems to be floating miles above your body. You look down at where he is still moving in and out of you, at the white-coated mess that drips from your hole and soaks your inner thighs. It doesn’t seem to hurt as badly now, like your body is changing to accommodate him even better — in fact, it feels like heaven.

You look up at him, dumbfounded. “I t-think I’m going to cum, Sukuna,” the words come easier now, and you feel like you can move again. Though, it still feels like a dream. “It’s so g-good.”

“Cum on my fat cock, then, make me proud,” he coos. You close your eyes and nod, trying to focus on the paradise that blooms between your legs. You feel every ridge and vein of his massive cock; hear the lewd squelching sounds of his cum leaking out of you. It comes to you faster than you would have imagined, washing through your body like a wave as you cry and shake miserably. “That’s my girl, fuck, there we go, that’s my perfect little girl.”

The spasming of your walls manages to milk more cum out of him and he groans loudly as he releases inside you once more. Sukuna cums so much it makes you breathless, filling you again and again until he’s satisfied and the sheets beneath you have no salvation left.

“There we go, take everything,” he says in a strained groan, “every fucking drop inside this tight fucking cunt.”

Sukuna looks absolutely insane above you — fucking his cock so hard into you that it seems like he will never have the chance again; eyes blown wide and his teeth clenched. You cum again, this time a little softer, as you feel his thick cock shoot a specially large amount of cum inside your pussy, and wait until he’s done using your body.

Eventually, he settles, pressing his forehead against yours and looking deep inside your eyes. The redness in them is shining like flames, watching every movement of your face.

“Feels weird,” you say. “I feel dizzy.”

He chuckles and removes himself from you. Another white-hot wave gushes out of your cunt, and he sits back to watch it drip. “There we go, it wasn’t so bad, was it?”

You swallow, your tongue is still numb inside your mouth. “It was horrible, Sukuna. I felt like I was going to die.”

Sukuna smiles and uses two fingers to push some of his cum back inside you. “I can promise you it was better than when I did,” he says, and you’re confused for a moment. “But now we don’t have anything to worry about anymore, my sweet thing. Those pathetic little sorcerers won’t want you.”

“H-How are you so sure?” You ask.

“Aw, my sweet, stupid little girl.” He pouts, condescending as always. “No one will want to save a curse now.”

Your eyes widen. “Did you…?”

“I told you.” Sukuna licks his own blood at the corner of your mouth. “You are mine forever.”

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dcxdpdabbles · 9 months

Note

Cave boy Danny has way to much fun fucking with the bats after a while. Jason is too until Danny bites him after some unwanted human contact. Alfred gets a big wave of nostalgia when Danny does it too.

Danny can say that the Waynes have been ridiculously welcoming, all things considered. He still hasn't come clean about not being Bruce Wayne's alternative double, so to throw them off from finding out the truth and have a safe place to crash- he's missed plumbing- he has been invited to the Wayne Manor and has been lazing about when under their watch.

If there was one thing apparent, it was that Bruce Wayne did not laze about. It was mind-blowing to those who knew him to see Danny- a version of Bruce- act like walking across the room for a remote was too much work.

It drove them mad to see such a difference between them, and thus, none of the Waynes noticed Danny's side project to get home.

The Waynes gave him a giant room and helped set up a fake Identity for him while they worked on getting him home. To the public, he was Danny Kane, a long-lost relative recently coming to Bruce for help.

Thanks to the support of Jacob and Kate, they agree to make it seem that Jack Kane- Danny's made-up father- was the result of Bruce's material grandfather having a fling after his wife's death. Jake was hidden from the public eye but had his father's financial support until he was an adult.

Jack was never bitter and told Danny stories of his wayward father, filled with love to prove it. These stories inspired Danny to seek out the remaining Kanes after Jack's untimely death, which led him to Bruce as Martha Wayne nee Kane's son.

The day Danny would be sent home, the Waynes would fake his death, and no one would be the wiser that Danny Kane never existed.

Fine by Danny

. He only planned to stick around long enough to get his ship ready and pinpoint a location that had the vile between the living and dead thin enough to slice his way back to the Ghost Zone.

Unlike Wulf, who could open portals wherever he wanted, Danny had to find points weak enough to punch a hole through. He knows his parent's portal was way out of his set of skills, and he sure as hell wasn't going to give anyone the idea to build their own here. Two percent of portals were already two too many.

He mostly hung around the house- with someone always close by in a poor attempt to hide the fact they were watching him. Most of the time, Danny was either lazing around the house, eating and sleeping, and it felt like a costly vacation.

He refused to help on the coms when the Bats went out to kick ass, even after Dick offered to sit in front of monitors and relay information to the heroes like he was offering the chance of a lifetime.

This seems to disturb everyone else in the house except for Alfred.

If anything, the fact Danny straight-up refused to put on tights and rush into night to fight crime made Alfred adore him. The butler claimed he was worried everyone in the family would forget what everyday life was supposed to feel like.

A few Waynes couldn't seem to wrap their heads around the concept.

"You're not interested at all?" Tim asks, eyes narrowed. He was among the few who thought Danny was suspicious for not wanting to risk his life to fight the corrupted system.

"Nah, man, I'm good here. I got my nachos, I got a movie room and I got the softest bathrobe ever bathrobe." Danny snuggles more profoundly into the pink plush robe that Steph had lent him. "Why would I want to ruin any of these? Sides, I can't even throw a punch."

".....There has never been a single alternative Bruce Wayne that wasn't involved in this life in some way. If not as a hero then he was a villain. Bruce as a villain is one of the most dangerous things that can ever happen across the multiverse" Tim reveals grimly. "We've won every single encounter but only by the skin of our teeth."

"Damn. Let me guess. You guys beat the evil Bruces by sending his kids after him."

"Yes."

"Problem solve. You already know you can kick my ass, so if I try anything, you can take me out, right?" Danny doesn't wait for a answer. He turns away from the teenager to stare at the movie screen showing his picked movie. "I can do nothing but tremble before your bat might."

Tim steps into his line of sight. "I mean it. You do anything to harm this family and will regret it."

"Does that mean I can't bite Jason again? That sucks. It's the only way I can get him to stop trying to drag me to galas. He wants to scare the other rich people with my poor people's manners."

Tim's lip twitches and Danny knows he's fighting to keep his face under control. "You didn't have to lock your jaw in like that."

"I really did. Jason tested me."

Tim tilts his head. "You don't really feel like Bruce. You look just like him at fifteen. Alfred says you act just like him. But for the last three weeks, you've been trying really hard to make it seem like you're okay with doing nothing."

"I am comfortable doing nothing."

"I think you're lying," Tim says, moving closer to stare down into Danny's eyes with frankly a manic glare. Danny's core flares up with the sense of challenge he finds in that dark blue gaze.

Which is a first for a human, and frankly is terrifying. If Tim had been a ghost he would have easily been an Ancient assistant or a baby Ancient. He has to be able to match Danny's power like this. Holy shit.

"I think your parents didn't give you enough love as a child, and now you seek approval from everyone around you while trying to push everyone away because you are too scared to make yourself valuable. You find yourself in an endless loop of self-doubt and self-hate by doing both simultaneously." Danny blurts. He watches Tim freeze, then winces. "Shit, sorry, the psychoanalyze came out as a reflection. Forget that."

Tim is still frozen in a way Danny recognizes as someone hearing something challenging to come to terms with. This is why he needs to break the habit of using Jazz's psyche training as a weapon.

He forgets not everyone insults each other with their deepest insecurities. That's just how he and Jazz love.

"...Do you want to watch the Grey Ghost Marathon with me?" He asks after a long pause. Tim closes his eyes before plumping down next to him.

"I like that."

Neither mention Jason, who is gasping in the last row of seats and attempting to suppress muffled laughter behind the wrist cast that Danny lovingly gave him at the last gala.

On a side note, Danny Kane is called "Rabid Dog." by the elites of Gotham, who watched the boy make three grown men cry after two minutes of talking to him and also witness four Waynes attempt to pry his mouth open screaming, "No Danny drop it. drop it!" while the boy munched on Jason's wrist.

No one has noticed that half of the tech has disappeared.

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #cave boy #Part 3 #Danny is attempting to be as different of Bruce as he can be #Tim thinks he's a evil Bruce pretending to be good #Jason taungted the dog and got bite #Everyone else just thinks Danny is the normal amount of weird for being a bruce

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ceruleancattail · 1 month

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Cursed concept and it’s Octavinelle boys with a sushi chef darling.

Imagine going fishing and one day just pulling up a great big mess of aquamarine / black tangled up in your nets and it’s just a??? Merman??? Now how on earth are you going to cook this one????

Floyd just grins at you and waves as you cut him free from the net, popping a fish or two in his mouth as he waits for you to finish untangling him. The moment you do, he’s diving back into the sea instantly, grinning away smugly.

You have a very love-hate relationship with this guy. He herds the fish for you, chasing them into your net. But he helps himself to your stock, dipping a hand into your nets and eating the fish alive. Floyd takes up almost all the space on your little boat, lounging around like he owns it.

Both of you strike up conversation…. The best both of you can, him with his odd chattering noises, and you with your words. Floyd’s learnt a few from you.

Boat, is the thing he’s on. It floats, and carries all the fish. He tends to say that word with a patronising tone, and you’re pretty sure he’s gloating about how he doesn’t need such trifling items to swim through the seas.

Fish, are the tasty little morsels that stream through the ocean’s waters. He’s impressed by the number you net each time, watching with a certain amazement as they flop around on the deck when you fish them out. You have weird ways of preparing them. Scooping out all the guts, slicing them into thin, tiny strips of flesh. Dipping them into some salty black liquid, before downing it in one gulp.

You have to coax Floyd to try it, eating a few slices before he decides that you’re not likely to poison him. After a few bites, he seems to like it just fine, but there’s just something about biting through a beating heart that’s still more enticing than any thing you could serve.

The next thing he learns is your name. Rolling it around his tongue, chanting it with a giddy sort of glee. Ah, that’s what you call yourself? It has a nice ring to it. Once he’s mastered saying it, Floyd’s never shutting up. He sings your name, laughing away in that strange, seductive voice of his.

It just sounds so nice. So… right. It falls right off his tongue, flowing like the gentle waves of the sea, lapping against the golden shore.

It’s you.

You, you, you.

Gods, he loves you. He never wants to stop loving you. Yet you don’t understand his chatter as well as he’ll like you too. You get the general gist of it, but that isn’t good enough. Floyd wants you to listen to his words, to feel the emotion woven within every single line.

But you can’t. At least, not yet.

So he calls your name. Again, and again, and again. Slipping as much love and affection as he can into every single syllable.

It’s you, it’s you, it’s you.

The one who he loves.

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #Floyd leech #Floyd leech x reader #Floyd #Floyd x reader #lucky charm 🔷

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onlyjaeyun · 3 months

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𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 – 𝟑𝟖

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓: 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

⤥ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

⤥ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬!𝐀𝐔

⤥ 𝐰𝐜: 𝟕𝐤

⤥ 𝐜𝐰: 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐞𝐬, 𝐝𝐲𝐬𝐟𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬, 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐥, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐛𝐯𝐬𝐞, 𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐱 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Up until you were four years old, christmas used to be your favorite holiday. You still remember your late mother’s tradition of hanging stockings with your names right next to the tree she had spent hours decorating and each year you’d watch your father get more and more excited about coming home to his girls to finally spend some time with the ones he loved the most.

In the year your mother had passed away, your father hadn’t even bothered to set up a tree, decorate the house or even buy you a little something. To your luck, your maternal aunt had made it her mission to carry on her sister’s tradition, so that was how you had found yourself at a dinner table with your dearest people, eating and laughing, forgetting about the pain in your chest for just a little while.

In the following years, your stepmother had never tried to recreate any of your old traditions and after a while you had stopped asking for it. By the time you had reached your pre-teen years, you were the older sister and maternal figure to two little boys, trying your best to give them memorable christmas memories and even going as far as saving up every cent you had received to buy them presents. You still remember the way Riki’s little face had lit up the second you had handed him that tiny little box with an action figure he had been asking for for months at that time.

As you two had grown older, your friend circle expanding and the concept of a found family becoming more and more right, you had started your annual friendsmas dinners, a tradition Jaeyun introduced you to all the way back in middle school and ever since that, every one of you had always made sure to find at least one day during the holiday season, which was exclusively reserved for your real family.

Maybe the comfort of your favorite people sitting at the dinner table, laughing and enjoying each other’s presence and knowing they’re the ones you feel the safest with is what makes it so much easier to spend so much time in such close proximity to the young man who’s been involuntarily spending a lot of time in your thoughts.

You hate Park Sunghoon. You hate him for looking as good as he does, for his soothing voice, his pretty smile and his dry humor. You hate how much you have to hold yourself back from laughing along to his silly little jokes and puns, and you can’t stand how badly you want to be even closer to him.

When he arrived with the beverages and a shit ton of snacks a few hours earlier, you physically couldn’t keep your eyes off of him. The dress shirt he’s wearing hugging his muscular torso in just the right places and his sweet scent – a combin of his aftershave and cologne – driving you into absolute insanity and if it wasn’t for the other boys being extra attentive, you would have pulled him into your room just to get another taste of him.

Yet every single time you catch yourself staring at him, your chest tightens and your little self is yelling and screaming at you for betraying her like that.

Because, no matter how much you deny it, you don’t actually hate Sunghoon as much as you want to. There’s no way you could ever feel as comfortable and at ease around someone you hate.

You two had managed to get along with each other for your friends’ sake, especially your younger brother’s, so why have things suddenly taken such a big turn? Was it the sex? Was it the kisses you’ve been daydreaming about? Was it the feeling of the way he’s shown you a side of yourself you’ve always been too afraid to look into? Or was it the way your tummy did this very special kind of flip whenever he buried his face in your neck, telling you how good you make him feel and how he’s gonna make sure to ruin you for every other man on this planet?

After all these years filled with hatred and wrath, anger and disappointment, the deep feeling of betrayal and not knowing why he never talked to you again after you had spent so much time and tears trying to understand where you had gone wrong, you just don’t know what to do with yourself.

Your younger self is losing her mind over your current thoughts about your biggest enemy but you…don’t actually mind them. There’s a weird sense of peace and comfort which comes with the thought of allowing yourself to feel something else beside the darkness of hate and wrath, something you’ve never actually felt with anyone before.

And as those thoughts fill your head, you can’t help but feel your chest tightening at the fact that there’s never been anyone like Park Sunghoon to you. You still remember the times you’d come running to his door, tears streaming down your chubby cheeks as you tried to understand why your father had suddenly started to hate you, only for Sunghoon to be the one to comfort you and make sure you know your worth regardless of others perception of you.

Riki and Tsuki as well as all the other boys have always been there for you, yet during those times where you didn’t have anyone, it was Park Sunghoon who held you in his arms.

All these years you had tried your best to push aside all those memories of all the times he had brought a smile onto your lips right before wiping your tears away and distracting you; the fact he didn’t know any better because of just how young you two were breaking your heart into millions of pieces.

You still remember the day you had decided to do what you thought was best and quit the one thing that had never failed to comfort your young soul during the darkest times, the fear of losing your best friend consuming your brain in ways you have yet to process and thinking about it now, almost a decade later, you still can’t help but feel tears welling up in your eyes as pain and sadness fill your chest.

In no universe could anything have prepared you for the actual outcome of a decision you had made for nobody but the person you loved the most, the sacrifice bigger than your young mind could have comprehended and the more you think about it, the angrier you get.

Of course Sunghoon had the right to be angry at you, but even now you can’t understand why he just never talked to you again. You had already accepted the possibility of losing him over your big decision, this wasn’t about you only, yet no matter how much time passes, you just can’t get yourself to forgive him for putting you through the heartbreak of abandoning you when you had needed him the most.

“It’s time for secret santa, bitches!”

The loud yelling of your best friend right beside your ear brutally pulls you out of your sad ride down memory lane and with your brows furrowed in confusion you stare at Jaeyun, leaving him just as perplexed.

“It’s time for secret santa…ladies?”

As those words leave his lips, you physically can’t stop the hideous chuckle from bubbling up your throat, throwing your head back and punching your best friend's arm with your fist.

It’s in moments like this where you realize just how much you appreciate the people you’ve been calling your family for longer than you can remember, knowing they’d never fail to pull you back to reality without even trying.

It doesn’t take much for everyone to get even louder as a discussion about the present order stirs up and before anyone can get a little too worked up about it, you decide to opt for your usual routine.

“I fucking hate being the oldest”, Heeseung pouts and doens the rest of his wine in one sip, his eyes rolling back as he lifts his middle finger up in the direction of your three youngest who have never let the opportunity pass to tease him for his age.

As the presents are being opened one by one, you attentively look at the little box in your hand, the name tag printed out to avoid anyone giving away their identity through their handwriting, a rule Jongseong had come up years ago and the longer you eye your neatly wrapped present, the more you wonder what it could be.

The fact you have absolutely no idea who your secret santa is, something you’ve always been bad at when it came to this part of your friend group’s tradition, Park Sunghoon can’t help but feel his heart thrumming in his throat at the thought of your reaction.

In all those years, you two had actually managed to never pick each other – until this year. Sunghoon still remembers the way his heart had dropped when he had read your name on the little note, a ton of ideas instantly popping up in his head only for his younger self to take them all and stomp them to the ground.

However, after a whole decade of letting his angry pre-teen self win those fights, Sunghoon has decided to finally put an end to the feud between the two of you and for once in his life the stars were on his side.

It took him exactly a month to come up with the perfect secret santa present for you, one that’d not only show you how over the ongoing war between you two he is, but also one he could use as a way to maybe win you over again.

If someone had told him about the thoughts he’d have about you only four months prior to this friendsmas dinner, Sunghoon would have told them to stop wasting his time because in no way could he have imagined things to turn out like this. But now? Now he’s genuinely excited and actually nervous about your reaction to the present he had gotten you and the most important part about it all is the fact he’s not even mad about feeling the way he does.

He still hates you.

But after all these years, he’s grown tired, mentally and physically exhausted of denying how much he actually wants you and how he’s always longed for your actual presence in his life.

It took quite a few conversations with Jaeyun to finally admit this to himself but at the end of the day Sunghoon knew there wasn’t a point in his denial so he’s just decided to accept things.

At the end of the day the day will come where he has to let you go completely and after years and years of emotional distance, Sunghoon has now come to the point where it just doesn’t make sense anymore.

He still hates you, with the entirety of his cold heart and yet he’s never, ever craved anybody’s touch and presence as much as yours. To admit to himself that all of this wasn’t just about the way you’ve mad ehim feel in a sexual manner was definitely one of the hardest pills he’s ever had to swallow but now that it’s gone and done, Hoon actually feels relieved.

Maybe that’s why he decided to opt for a present which carries a lot more sentimental value than any other gift he’s ever given but if life is on his side just this once, you probably won’t ever know who your secret santa is.

With his heart brutally hammering against his rib cage, Sunghoon carefully watches the way you clap your hands in excitement when your turn finally arrives.

For some reason, unusual silence fills your comforting living room as you gently rip apart the perfectly themed gift wrapper and reveal a tiny little jewelry box to everyone’s curious eyes.

“Oh?” You can’t help but mumble, a weird yet comfortable feeling settling into your muscles when you pull out the little car underneath the box, the boys quickly urging you to read it out loud, to your surprise however, it’s written in your mother tongue.

As it takes you a good second to translate the words on the little note, you gasp for air once your brain finally realizes what you’ve just read.

“Oh, come on! Don’t fuck with us!” Jungwon pouts and reaches for the card, only for his brows to furrow once he notices the foreign language.

“What? What is it?” This time it’s your brother’s voice and it’s then that you quickly get up and reach for the little card, the message too deep, too close to your heart to blurt out, even into your closest circle of friends.

“Open the box then!” Sunoo reminds you and it’s then that you find yourself holding onto your present like your life depends on it as your chest continues to tighten.

Just as the note had stated, you’re met with the sight of a beautiful ring, with your mother’s birthstone as the center of attention.

“Can I read it out loud?” Riki asks calmly, his voice slightly hoarse and strained, letting you and everyone else know just how emotional it’s gotten him as well. Unable to form another word, you nod.

“Dear Y/N”, your brother begins as the room falls silent once again, “if there’s one thing in this world that I’m actually sure about, it’s about how proud your late mother is of you and the woman you’re growing into every single day. Take this as a way to carry her by your side, as her birthstone reminds you of the great impact she’s had on your life and the ones of the people she was surrounded by. Sincerely, your secret santa.”

As you listen to the translation of the sweetest letter you’ve ever received you can’t help but actually let out a soft sob, the holidays being some of toughest times in your life since the passing of your mother and the fact you have people as caring and attentive as this in your life will probably remain one of the few things to break down those walls you had worked so hard to built.

“Oh wow”, Jongseong suddenly whispers and breaks the silence, his reaction finally making you look up from the ring just to be met with a bunch of teary eyes as they all take in a moment filled with such love and happiness.

“This is the sweetest and most thoughtful gift we’ve ever had in our secret santa round”, Wonie chuckles and quickly wipes away his tears, his usually so excited eyes filled with a pain that’s dedicated to you and the deep wound in your chest, this kind of compassion something you’ve only ever received from your closest friends.

“Thank you so much”, you whisper into the round and take the ring out of the box to gently put it onto your ring finger, the fit almost too perfect and with curious eyes you try your best to study the reactions of your friends to see if you can actually read their facial expressions for once during this part of your traditional dinner.

And just when you’re about to get confused because of the genuine surprise in everyone’s face, your gaze finally shifts to the one guy you’ve tried so hard not to fall for in these past few weeks, maybe even years but that’s something for another time.

Sunghoon almost looks like he’s been caught once your eyes meet and it’s that exact moment where you realise the identity of your secret santa.

However, the sudden and very urgent ringing of your doorbell comes to save the both of you from a confrontation neither is quite ready for just yet.

You might be naive or too deep in your denial, but for now you’re going to allow yourself to enjoy this present and the sentiment it comes with, rather than worry about whatever this heavy tension between you and your archenemy has suddenly turned to.

“I’ll go get it”, you quickly say and avert your gaze from Sunghoon’s dark eyes, too emotionally vulnerable to give yourself another minute of staring at him with everyone around, “Seungie open your present, I’ll be right back. It's probably just a neighbor!”

You basically jump out of your seat in hopes of escaping the thick tension between you and the only man you’ve ever been openly vulnerable with, something you just can’t seem to forget and as your shaky legs carry you to your front door, you wonder which one of your sweet neighbors is in such a rush to the point where breaking your doorbell was deemed necessary.

Now, there are quite a few faces and voices you expected, but definitely not the ones belonging to none other than your biggest walking nightmare.

With wide eyes and your heart instantly dropping into your stomach, you feel a wave of fear and anxiety overwhelm your senses as you stare right into the hateful, angry eyes of your stepmother.

“What the–”, “You ungrateful, spoiled, selfish whore of a girl”, she screams, intentionally raising the volume of her voice as her hurtful words start echoing in the hallway of your apartment building.

The sudden urge to just slam the door shut again to keep yourself safe and protected from the pain and heartbreak you know she’s gonna put yoj through becomes overwhelming but before your body can even react to the sheer amount of stress and anxiety rushing through your veins, she’s already pushed you to the side, letting herself inside of your home the same way she did almost two decades ago.

“What are you doing here?” Your voice is quiet, much calmer than hers and to your surprise you don’t seem to let her and her words get to you the way you normally would. It’s rather confusion you’re dealing with, since nothing or nobody could have prepared you for her presence. You haven’t seen her in almost five years after all, not after she had convinced your own, biological father to finally disown you after years and years of neglect and torture.

“I’m here to get what rightfully belongs to me and my daughter, the sister you abandoned!”

Her voice, its volume and her precise choice of words have always been something that never failed to trigger the weirdest reactions deep inside of your chest and before you can even think about anything else, you furrow your brows and finally get yourself to look into her eyes.

“Watch the way you talk to me in my own fucking home, you witch”, you spit right back at her, anger, wrath and frustration mixing in your veins the longer you look into her dark eyes, the resemblance to your brother’s so inhense, you can’t help but hate life for making him her carbon copy.

Riki has never looked at you with anything but love, compassion, empathy and kindness. His eyes have never failed to make you feel at ease and not once were they filled with disappointment and hatred, building the absolute contrast to the ones you’re currently staring into.

Just as expected, it doesn’t take much time for your friends to be alarmed by the sound of the rather unfamiliar voice.

“What’s going on? Mom, why the fuck are you here?”

Your stepmother seems appalled, shocked and utterly shocked at her son’s choice of words and as you watch the way her face drop only for her eyes to darken even further, you find yourself taking a step back to somehow protect yourself, only for a familiar scent to fill your nose.

However, in that moment you can’t get yourself to worry about how your lack of reaction to Sunghoon’s presence in your back might come across to the others in the room.

“You’re both a disgrace to our family name and I’m ashamed you’re both somehow related to me”, she snaps and quickly averts her gaze to fall on you again, her eyes filled with an even deeper hatred than before.

“Mom, what the fuck do you want from us? Weren’t we clear enough about our decisions? You can’t fucking force us to give you money we don’t even have!”

It’s in moments like these where you watch your younger brother turn back into the tiny little kid you had raised, the one who always tried to have your back and never let anyone hurt you even more. He seems so lost, so confused and overwhelmed and every time you’re met with the sight of his usually so kind eyes filled with nothing but pain and agony, you remember all the times he had cried in your arms asking why your parents never loved the two of you the way parents are supposed to.

“Money you don’t have?”, the sudden switch in language feels overwhelming, yet your brain quickly adapts to the change and for a moment you’re actually grateful, “why do you two live in an apartment like this then? You have a fucking internship and I know this loser has more than enough saved on the side.”

“We’re not gonna finance another one of your spoiled kids just because she thinks she’s entitled to go to a fucking boarding school”, Riki is quick to reply and internally you thank him for his speed, knowing she would have chewed you out by now if it wasn’t for him.

You can feel everyone’s eyes in your back, a wave of shame and guilt, anger and embarrassment spreading in your chest as you find yourself in another screaming match right in front of all of your friends just the way you used to back then.

Because, no matter what, your father and his wife had always made sure to humiliate and embarrass you in front of the only people you care about.

For a moment, your mind goes blank.

It feels like you’re ten years old all over again and your brain simply doesn’t know how to handle all the emotions washing over you. The urge to run away and hide in the darkest corner of your room the way you used to do it back when you were a little girl suddenly becomes overwhelming and yet, the strong presence in your back calms you down in a way you’ve never experienced it before. There’s just something so familiar and comforting about the knowledge that of all people, it’s Sunghoon who’s ready to step in if he needs to.

With your heart hammering against your rib cage you notice that a thin veil of tears has blurred your vision and as soon as your eyes meet your stepmother’s, you feel yourself snap back into reality.

She can’t hurt you anymore.

Your father isn’t there to defend and support her, nor are you alone with her.

It’s you and the only people who have ever cared about your wellbeing against her and you’d be damned if you didn’t use this to your advantage.

“She’s turned you into an even bigger hypocrite than herself!”

Those words, however, leave you speechless once again.

Agonizing silence erupts in the tiny space of your hallway and with big eyes you try your best to stay composed.

If there’s one thing you’ve always tend to forget about your stepmother is just how unhinged and reckless she can be. Everything she says and throws into your face is a weapon, something to hurt and break your soul with.

“What the fuck does that even mean? If there are any hypocrites in this fucked up family it’s you and your lousy excuse of a husband!”, Riki screams back at her, the volume of his voice so loud and unfamiliar, you can’t remember the last time you’ve heard him like this.

“Oh, really? So, she still hasn’t told you about it, hm?”

There’s only everbeen two times in your life where your elt your heart drop as hard and painful as right now and the longer you stare at the oman who was supposed to be your maternal figure, only to fail miserably, the tighter your chest becomes.

She hates you; there’s probably not an ounce of empathy or love for you in her cold heart, but she wouldn’t actually do this, not when it was the last thing you had begged her and your father for before you left your childhood home five years ago.

“Hasn’t told me what? What are you talking about? Stop fucking with me, Mom”, your brother presses through gritted teeth, his hands balled into tight fists, so tight his knuckles have turned white already and if it wasn’t for his two best friends holding his arms, you’re pretty sure he would have lost his composure already.

“Don’t”, you whisper and subconsciously reach for her, only for Sunghoon to quickly pull your arm back because he knows you’d never forgive yourself if you actually gave in to her manipulative tactics, “please, don’t. Not here. Not now.”

“Oh, now you know how to be polite? Fuck you”, your stepmother scoffs and rolls her eyes at you, stomping every tiny bit of hope you’ve had left into the ground just like that and as your brother’s head turns to look into your face, you realize there’s no way out but to accept your fate.

“She’s the biggest fucking hypocrite because every time you both accused us of favoritism, she turned around and did the same with you and her other siblings”, she suddenly begins and with your head hanging low, you know she’s going to expose you to the only people who have ever deemed you worthy of their love and trust, especially your brother.

“What?” Riki mumbles confused, his eyes nervously roaming your face as he looks for answers in your body language only to notice how defeated and exhausted you seem.

“If your father and I favored your to siblings over you two, then she made sure to do the same with you, too”, your stepmother repeated herself, her voice filled burning in your eardrum like venom, “because she went and gave up on her so called ‘biggest dream’ for you, yet can’t even get herself to contribute a single cent to her other siblings’ education.”

Silence.

Heartbreaking, soul shattering silence is the only thing to follow the hateful words of your brother’s mother.

For a moment, you’re pretty sure nobody in the room dares to take a single breather as they all take in Riki’s reaction to the one secret you’ve been keeping to yourself for so long, knowing he would have never forgiven himself if you had told him all those years ago.

“What?”

Sunghoon’s voice is the one to rip your heart into shreds and yet a huge wave of confusion hits you right afterwards, not quite understanding how in the world he could have understood when your stepmother had been talking in her mother tongue the whole time.

“Is that true?” This time your brother manages to form a coherent sentence, his voice so mall you’re afraid he’ll break if he spoke too loudly and for some reason, the only thing you can manage to respond with is a nod. Too ashamed of your secret, too afraid of his reaction.

Who could have blamed you for keeping this to yourself when Riki has been he first in your life to support you regardless of other people’s perception of you. No matter what, where or who it was about, your little brother has always been the one to have your back, so abandoning your dream in order to give him the opportunities you’ve never had seemed the only choice to make.

“What…the fuck?”, Riki breathes and stares at you through a thick veil of tears, his heart breaking into thousands of pieces as he realizes that he’s the reason behind the biggest sacrifice you’ve ever made in your life.

All this time he’d wonder why you had decided to abandon your dream to the point where even the sight of an ice rink broke your heart, only for his existence to be the answer.

“Say something”, your brother begs, his voice a mere whisper, “please, Y/N. Please, tell me you didn’t choose my future over your biggest passion.”

You can’t even get yourself to lift your head, the thought of looking into your brother’s eyes pushing you deeper into the darkness of your pain, only for Sunghoon to forcefully pull you out of it.

“That’s why you stopped skating?”

The question seems so random and out of place, not something you should be talking about in that moment and yet nothing has made more sense to him as this.

After almost a decade of wondering why you had decided to abandon not only your passion but him, your partner of four years, all your hard work and effort, Sunghoon has finally gotten his response, only for his heart to break all over again.

All of a sudden, he’s back at the ice rink, impatiently waiting for you to show up next to him as the host of the national competition announces your name for the third time. All of a sudden the same anger, disappointment and confusion fills his chest all over again and before he can even realize, he’s gasping for air.

“Hold the fuck up”, Riki suddenly intervenes, “why the fuck are you so fluent in Japanese?”

“You – understood what she said?”, is the only question you manage to form as you slowly turn around to face him, yet not bothering to step away from him because no matter what, if there’s one person whose anger has never, ever scared you, it’s Park Sunghoon’s.

In the deepest bits of your coldened heart, you always knew he’d keep you safe and sound, regardless of the hatred you two had built up for each other over the years.

He’s always been your safe place and as you look up to meet his gaze, you’re met with a look filled with nothing but genuine confusion and pain.

A pain so deep, so intense, you chest tightens with each breath you manage to take.

“Why – Why didn’t you just…tell me?” Sunghoon is now the one to whisper, his thick brows furrowed and when your brain finally processes his words, you can’t help but let the rage take over your pain for a minute.

“I fucking did”, you suddenly hiss and stare at him with tears streaming down your cheeks, the situation turning you both into your younger selves as you finally allied yourself to feel the anger and disappoint of being abandoned by one o the two people who your life had revolved around for so long.

“You were the only person I ever told about this in my letter”, the words leave your mouth before your brain can even overthink them, too much pent up frustration filling your veins for your body to handle, “and yet you chose to abandon and ignore me. You left me when I needed you the most, Park Sunghoon. You were the only hope I had left and what the fuck did you do instead? You left and never looked back, not once.”

For the first time in his life, Sunghoon feels absolutely speechless.

Your words, the anger and pain in your voice, your tears and little sobs make their way through his skull and yet, the entirety of his vocabulary seems to have vanished. Maybe it’s the sudden switch into his mother tongue or maybe, just maybe it’s the fact he has absolutely no idea what letter you’re actually referring to.

Tsuki is quick to be by your side, your brother still too overwhelmed by his mother’s words and her being the only one besides him and apparently your biggest enemy to understand the entire situation, you can’t help but bury your face in her shoulder and sob uncontrollably.

You’ve never said these words out loud. Years and years of built up pain you’ve had to lock away because the one person responsible for it had made it his life mission to let you know just how bad of a person you are to him.

All this time you tried to understand why Sunghoon had turned his back on you during the most difficult time in your life, when the only reason you had accepted your parents’ ultimatum was because you were so, so sure your best friend would find a solution.

But at the end of the day you were left with no dream and no best friend to rely on.

“What letter?”

For a moment, you’re more than just sure your brain has finally reached the state where you’re making up voices and words, only for Sunghoon to repeat his question, this time a lot firmer and even more confused than the first time.

“What the fuck do you mean? The letter I wrote for you the week before the competition”, you reply and look at him with furrowed brows and a heavy chest.

“Y/N”, Hoon whispers and for the first time in your life, you watch your former ice skating partner tear up, the sight of his pain filled eyes and the fact he had actually called you by your name to your face ripping you heart to shreds, yet not being enough to prepare you for the pain his following words would push you into.

“I never received a letter”, he whispers and looks at you, and only you.

“Wh-What? No, that’s not possible”, you stammer and try to make sense of what he had just told you, the aching of your heart spreading into your whole body to the point where every breath you inhale pushes you deeper into the comfort of your suffering.

“I have no idea what letter you’re talking about”, Sunghoon repeats himself and gulps harshly, swallowing his tears as his expression hardens, yet the agony remains lingering underneath the surface, “all I got was embarrassment and betrayal when I got to the ice rink and realized you weren’t show up. No explanation, no fucking excuse. Not a single fucking answer as to why my best friend, the person I’ve poured my heart to for years would leave me hanging in front of hundreds of people.”

Sunghoon has never been a talkative person, not with too many people around, but he’s always known his way around words, something you found yourself admiring and actually falling for in the past.

But in this very moment, every single word falling past his lips turns into another knife slashing its way into the bleeding muscle in your chest, leaving you confused and overwhelmed.

“I didn’t – No – My letter – I would never do that to you”, you stumble over your words like a toddler, unable to find the right ones to explain your innocence.

“Where is that fucking letter then, Y/N? What the fuck is going on?”

Maybe it’s the fact that Sunghoon has never been as emotionally overwhelmed as this before or maybe it's because the sight of your tear stained cheeks and confused eyes as you shake your head and deny his accusations but the longer he looks at you, the worse his soul bleeds.

After so many years of verbal and emotional abuse from his parents, you were the very first person in his life who had shown that there was more to life than just the validation of people who never wanted him. Of all people in this world, it was your hands he had put his tiny heart into because he knew you’d always keep it safe and protected, only for your absence to scar him forever.

For a single second, Sunghoon’s brain is filled with flashbacks about one of the most humiliating days in his life and as he shakes his head to get rid of all the bad memories, his gaze meets your stepmother’s, bringing back a conversation he had tried so hard to suppress as the mee thought of it was enough to deepen his young torture.

“You”, he suddenly spits, his blood boiling in his veins as he remembers exactly how your stepmother had validated all of his thoughts and concerns.

“Oh, come on”, she scoffs and shrugs her shoulders, not an ounce of guilt or shame found anywhere, leaving the both of you completely shocked, “I just wanted to make sure he doesn’t try to convince you to keep going. We knew you wouldn’t back off so this was for the best. Riki’s potential was too much to be wasted and we couldn’t risk it for that little hobby of yours.”

You desperately try to process the things your stepmother is saying, yet you’ve never struggled to understand your mother tongue as much as in this particular moment.

Yes, she hates you, always has and forever will, but…was she really capable of something so cruel?

“You never…gave him the letter?”

“She didn’t”, Sunghoon presses through gritted teeth, his ears covered in the deepest shade of red as anger and weather come together in his blood, “all she did was tell me that you had decided to quit skating. After watching me get humiliated in front of all those people. For fuck’s sake, she told me you never actually wanted to be my skating partner and did it out of pity before he convinced my father to make me go solo and show you what you’re missing out on.”

“What…the actual fuck”, after what feels like an eternity, your brother’s voice makes its way through the mess in your brain and before you can actually register all the emotions in his tired eyes, you watch Riki, one of the calmest and most understanding people you’ve ever met, lose every bit of composure he had left.

“Riki–”, “Don’t”, he’s quick to cut off his mother, Jungwon and Sunoo having to physically hold him back as the tears start streaming down his cheeks and despite everything you had just found out, it’s the sight of your brother’s pain which breaks you.

“Don’t ever say my name again. Don’t call me or my sister ever again. You’re the most disgusting and vile human being I’ve ever met. She was twelve!”, he screams and rips his arms out of his best friends’ grips, approaching his mother with soft sobs escaping his throat.

“How can someone – a mother do this to a little girl? You took her dream away from her, for what? To send me to a fucking boarding school I never even wanted to attend? And after all of the mental, emotional and verbal abuse you and your fucking loser of a husband have put us through, you still have the fucking audacity to show up at our door and demand money for children who don’t give a flying fuck about us.”

Riki’s words are harsh, his voice is loud and there’s nothing positive about any of the things he says; everything he’s ever wanted to say is finally being heard and all you can do is watch and listen.

Just like his miserable excuse of a mother.

“Riki, I–”, “Shut the fuck up. I don’t care anymore. Fuck you, fuck that husband you’re so proud of and fuck those stupid brats. You all deserve to rot in hell for the things you’ve put us through”, your brother’s chest is rising and falling at such speed, you’re genuinely worried for his physical health and even if it takes you a minute, you’re rather quick to notice the signs of an oncoming panic attack. Just like Sunghoon.

Before you can even think about intervening, you watch your former best friend make his way to your brother with just a few large steps, grabbing the younger one’s biceps and almost forcefully pulling him down to his room.

“Fuck off and don’t ever come back”, Riki suddenly yells as he watches his mother take a few steps back with genuine fear grazing her rather unattractive features, “you’re dead to us. Every single one of you is.”

“This is not done here”, your stepmother’s words of protest definitely surprise you and as your eyes roam her face, you feel your brain shutting down, finally losing yourself in the sweet relief of disassociation the second your body can’t handle any of it anymore.

“It is”, this time it’s Tsuki, her voice so strict and cold, you actually aren’t sure if it’s her, “get the fuck out of here before we call the police.”

You don’t actually hear the rest of the argument between your best friend and stepmother, too exhausted and tired, drained and worn out to think another thought, something your best friends are quick to notice and before you can even understand what’s happening, you find yourself in the comfort of your bedroom.

“Come on, Y/N”, Jungwon whispers, his pretty eyes filled with deep concern and pain as he pulls the blanket over your slightly shaking body, “we’re here. You’re safe.”

Those are the last words to make it through the fog in your head as you finally let go of every single thought and slowly drift into a deep, dreamless sleep.

And maybe it’s the pain of knowing he won’t ever get the past decade with you back or maybe it’s the fact someone else had decided to not only take away the biggest joy in his life but also the first and only person he’s ever felt safe with, but as Sunghoon gently caresses your hair, silently watching your expressions soften the deeper your sleep becomes, he simply can’t stop the tears from streaming down his cheeks. his soft sobs and cries the only thing to fill the space of your bedroom.

← 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 — 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 →

(A/N: i don't even know what to say except thank you guys so, so much. i really hope the waiting was worth it and that i could meet yours and my own expectations. ot's definitely not the end but i can't believe we've actually made it to this point. i love and appreciate you all so, so much. 🩷☀️🌷💐)

TAGLIST: @soonigiri @en-happiness @lhsvibez @dammit-jjk @heerinnie @primroselover @jungwon-xo @szkstay @lostwonderwall @hoonieluv @certifiedmoa @doodlelibrary @ikeuizm @kpoprhia @sleeping-demons @imtoanonymousforyou @lalalovejay @ineedsomezzz @xrr-s4sha @viagumi @electrobutterfly @mimikittysblog @blurryriki @heelcvr @wonkifangirl @joonzseoulmate @kwiwin @hoondiors @seuomo @zerasari @love-you-twice @aloverga @marz-mars @velvtcherie @niniissus @abrazosolorcereza @ddazed-lhs @acphengene @skz-streamer @kshoshi @tya0 @yizhoutv @jebetwo @myheelody @seokgyuu @blockbusterhee @luvkpopp @heeslut4life

#enhypen social media au #enhypen smau #enhypen sm au #enhypen x female reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen angst #enhypen writers #park sunghoon x female reader #park sunghoon smau #park sunghoon social media au #enhypen park sunghoon #park sunghoon angst #park sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon smut #sunghoon smau

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kenntolog · 1 month

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𐒘𝛠 an: reblog if you enjoyed this!!

gojo acting like he cut his finger whenever he holds a knife in the kitchen just so you run up to him and ask him to show you with that soft yet worried tone and furrowed brows only for him to lean in and plant a quick kiss on your lips to make you flustered. it’s a concept that works every single time, until he really does cut his finger and it kinda hurts so you scold him while treating him, and he feels like he’s gonna explode from the amount of love he feels when you peck his finger to make it better.

sometimes, when you two are walking satoru trips on purpose and falls on one knee, looking up at your worried face with a wide beam. he stares at you with big eyes full of adoration and love, saying something cheesy like “i think i fell… for you ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)” and absolutely enjoys the way you roll your eyes, letting out a disappointed sigh. but he knows that you’re enjoying his antics too, from the way you still ruffle his fluffy hair and tug him to stand taller by your side.

he also often chokes on his food and drinks just so you’d give him a stern gaze and a few strong pats in the back followed by soft rubbing of your warm palm over his back and a slightly distressed grimace as you kiss his temple and make sure he’s okay. satoru wonders if you know he’s just acting but it doesn’t matter when you’re holding him with tenderness only his true other half can provide.

satoru’s favourite though; his favourite moments appear whenever he comes back from lengthy missions that manage to exhaust him so much he starts thinking unhealthy, and the only thing that makes him forget is you, waiting for him at home. you hug him tight with that sweet smile on your sleepy face, subtly checking him for injuries or something resembling them. asking him if he wants something to eat, to take a bath, to watch something before sleep or cuddle to sleep. his choice always falls on the last option because all he needs is your presence and love.

#— miya writes!#gojo x reader #gojo satoru #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk gojo #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #jjk satoru #satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojou satoru x reader #gojou satoru x you

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winterrrnight · 2 months

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unravel

PAIRING: frat!soft!rafe cameron x fem!reader

SUMMARY: rafe has had his eyes set on the girl who isn't falling for his charms the way every girl seems to do.

WARNINGS: college!au; reader is hard to get, an ambivert, reserved; rafe is just frat!rafe in the start but slowly develops into extremely soft!rafe; a lot of comfort; rafe calls reader princess; intentional lower case

EDITH SPEAKS: this was initially just a little concept on rafe pining for a hard to get reader, but it got longer than the usual word count of my concepts so it's now a little fic! i hope this is extremely comforting cause I swear we all need this 💞🥹 just wanna say I'm here for every single one of you 💗💗

please reblog if you liked reading this! feedback is always highly appreciated 🌻

navigation || join my taglist || requests

rafe’s heard it all; hot, sexy, handsome, charming, and boy, does he eat it up each time. he knows he is a 10 out of 10, and when each girl in college is always on her knees for him, it doesn’t help but only boosts his ego.

but when you come around, it is all so different.

you don’t give into his charms the way everyone else seems to give. you aren’t running after him like a lost puppy, you aren’t pining for him, and that sets rafe off.

and that’s exactly why he needs you.

he catches you any moment he can; before class, after class, in the cafeteria, in the huge lawn, outside your dorms; any moment he sees you, he’s coming over to you, and never being able to keep his mouth shut.

“so princess…”

“shut up.”

that’s basically how all your conversations go. you roll your eyes at him each time and just walk away, but he has a smirk pulling on his lips all the damn time, always walking right next to you.

it’s like he’s forgotten about all the other girls in college. the ones who are willingly ready to take him, to give him attention every second of every day; but here he wants you, who doesn’t even make eye contact with him for more than two seconds without you rolling your eyes at him.

he always looks at you as the reserved kind of person. you aren’t seen around with a big group of friends, but just two or three close ones. you aren’t always talking, but you are quite open with your close friends. it’s hard to gather much information about you from around, and he believes that if it was the other way round, information about him would be so easily accessible. oh, and it does not help that your instagram is private and you still haven’t accepted his request.

if anything, that intrigues him even more. he wants to get close to you, to find out more about you, to unravel every thread of your existence till he knows you better than you know yourself.

it’s a nice spring afternoon, and rafe had quite few classes as compared to usual. he decides to head to the library – a place whose exact location he didn’t even know until 5 months into college – to finish this goddamned essay that’s been hanging on his head for the past week now.

as he walks inside, the vexed look on his face is instantly replaced by a quite simpered one when he spots you. he’s already making his way to you, around 20 different one liners in his head he can kick start the conversation with to see that irritated look on your face which he adores with his whole heart. but the coy smile leaves just the next second when he gets a clear look at you.

you’re crying.

your head hangs low as you’re quietly sobbing so absolutely no one else can hear you; but then the library is quite empty. your eyes are shut tight as tears roll down your hot cheeks, and rafe feels his heart physically break.

break in such a way that if you hear carefully, you can hear it shattering.

a frown etches his lips and a deep furrow forms in his brows as he slowly makes his way to you.

“princess…” he mutters softly, keeping a gentle hand on your shoulder. you’re startled at the sudden touch which causes you to gasp and makes you look up, your blurry eyes coming in contact with his warm, blue ones.

“not now rafe…” you whisper, shifting your shoulder which causes rafe’s hand to drop. you move a hand to your face to wipe off your tears, sniffling silently.

“hey talk to me…” he whispers softly, sitting down in the empty chair next to you. he doesn’t touch you in any way, just keeps a soft gaze at you and notices how you still keep your head down, trying your best to not sob as much as you were earlier. he makes a quick note of how your fingers are pulling onto each other, pinching and squeezing the flesh of them.

rafe knows for sure he’s never experienced anything sadder than watching tears roll down your pretty face. he knows it’s the last thing he wants to see. and he knows he wants to be the one who makes sure a tear never falls down your face ever again.

“listen princess…” he whispers, leaning just a bit closer to you, “you can trust me okay? you really can,” he gently places a hand over your snaked fingers, causing you to stop your fidgeting. his hand is warm, and as he gently caresses the back of your hand with his thumb, you can slowly feel your tears dying down.

rafe gently holds one of your hand and brings it up to his chest, placing it right above his heart. you look up to him, your glassy eyes slightly widened at his action. “just feel it okay?” he whispers. “try to match your breathing with it.” you feel the rhythmic thumping of his heart under your palm, and your expression softens as your eyes flutter shut, your breathing starting to match with his.

“good… good…” he whispers gently, moving his other hand to gently wipe your cheeks. his breath gets caught in his throat when he sees you don’t move away, but ever so subtly lean more into his touch.

“talk whenever you feel like, I’m not putting you in any hurry…” he mumbles, his thumb now gently skimming your cheek in a periodic manner, his palm resting against your cheek, and your face nuzzling against the warmth of his hand.

you nod at his words, just letting his soothing words, touch and presence take all over your senses, before you slowly collect your thoughts to talk to him.

if rafe would’ve earlier known that the way to your heart wasn’t dropping a snarky one liner each time he sees you, but to provide you a safe and comforting space to open up in, he would’ve done it way sooner.

because he’s finally doing what he wanted.

unraveling every thread of your existence till he knows you better than you know yourself.

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

TAGLIST: @runningfrom2am @saccharinesammie @maybankslover @totalswag @madelynie @chenslucy @ietss @elle-mp3 @viawritesstuff @wallsdreams @lunalitva @sadfury @shores-kayla @jamesbuckybarneswify @xxxlaura @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @callsignwidow @starkowswife @drewstarkeyswifehoe @jjchaer @f4ll-for-you @wearemadeofstardust0 @drewsmusee @rafegirly @addriaenne @leighbronk @rafesdrew @bejeweledreverie @raf3sgff @aerangi @drewstarkey1bae @moneymaybank @spideysimpossiblegirl @the-tortured-poets-depxrtment @rafesgiirl @theoraekenslover @fals3-g0d @personalfavsthatarerandom

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andysorbit · 4 months

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Hyuck hard hours weeeee ft. smoking cigarettes and eating edibles because fuck SM

Stoner!Hyuck x Stoner fem!reader

warnings: Hyuck has daddy issues (we're twins weeeee 🤗), fem receiving oral sex, light praise and dirty talk, Hyuckie smokes, fuck sm, there's weed, I'm obsessed with Hyuck's lil facial hair, fuck sm, they're in love, hyuck has an oppa kink, like I really hate how that concept wouldn't fuck off but yeah it's there and I'm not really sure how to feel about it

"I think I bought the wrong ones... this is not working," Hyuck mutters as he examines the packaging closely; quirking his lip up in annoyance, he picks up his phone and opens the camera so he can scan the QR code on the back of the packaging for its authenticity.

"Okay, I didn't so what the fuck is the problem with these?"

"Hyuck, it's only been five minutes. You do this every single time. Just wait, okay?" You laugh. He frowns and turns to look at you. You both just stare at each other.

"Y'know what's crazy?" he asks peevishly as he stick a cigarette between his lips and reaches for the lighter on the coffee table. After lighting his cigarette, he takes a pull from it and blows the smoke into the air slowly.

It's starting. The random guilt ramble.

"What, Hyuckie?" You sigh.

"Parent privilege is crazy to me... my dad used to always talk about how good I had it but honestly I think he had it better because he got away with shit I'd slap a bitch in the street for saying to me which pretty much cancels out the poor impulse shit he kept dumping on me. If my impulse control was that bad, how come he never got his shit rocked?... I wanna call him... maybe tell him I already arraigned his funeral and now I'm just waiting for the good news," he rambles.

Hyuckie hasn't spoken to his dad in years. He acts like he's okay with it but you know it hurts him and every time he gets high, you know he's going to say some random thing about it and you know he's only ever this vulnerable when he's drunk, high, or about to be one or the other.

"Don't call him, Hyuck," You tell him softly.

"Let's go out?" he whispers as he gets to his feet, "I wanna drive down to the pier and listen to music."

"You can't drive while you're high," You hiss as you get up to follow him out of the room. "I'm not high yet. We'll just drive down to the pier and hang out then we can sleep it off at the hotel that just opened right over there," Hyuck says as he gets a small bag and tosses some overnight essentials into it.

You shrug, "Okay sounds fun."

On the way, Hyuck stops off to get a pizza pie before continuing on the way. The ride is accompanied by an opera playlist you both randomly became fixated on a few days ago and Hyuck is on his second cigarette. It hangs from his lips and he occasionally holds it out the window to drop the ash from the other end. It's a bad habit of his but he knows you think it's sexy.

When you arrive, Hyuck parks in a dark corner of the lot along the water and cuts the engine, "Okay, my cock isn't gonna jerk itself off," he sighs as he leans his seat back. You know he's definitely beginning to feel it and you're relieved to know you made it here before this moment occurred.

"Can you at least be romantic first?" You sigh as you turn to hold his gaze.

"You're right. I should put the top down and you should take your top off so I can suck your tits while you look up at the stars... maybe I should eat your pussy out instead," he says softly as he presses the button to put the top down on the car; the warm night air dances over your skin and he reaches out to unbuckle your seat belt, "Imagine that? Being high while you stargaze with my face between your legs? It probably feels like you're in outer space when you cum."

You reach across to palm his cock through his khaki pants and he moans, "You're gonna blow me first? Are you sure? I'll eat you out first, Y/n, it's okay."

You shake your head and open his pants, "No, it's okay. I've been wanting to suck your dick all day," You hum as you shift uncomfortably. Hyuck pushes your hand away, "Let's fix the seats. If we do it now, we won't have to stop and do it later."

You both push your seats as far back as they'll go and Hyuck reaches across to pull your shirt up to expose your breasts to him, nipples perked up from arousal. Hyuck leans over and sucks your left nipple into his mouth. You gasp and he chuckles as you push your chest up a little more.

"That's a good girl," he encourages you before moving over to your side. He drops down in front of you and looks up at you slyly, "I'm going first- watch the stars," he says as he begins shoving up your skirt so he can clumsily get your panties off. You look up at the night sky and admire the stars for a moment as you wait for his next move. After getting you situated in an easier position, you feel his tongue press flat against your cunt and slowly drag its way up. You moan and reach down to tug at his hair. He sucks your clit into his mouth loudly before teasing the soft bundle of nerves with playful flicks of his tongue.

"Hyuck... fuck, yeah, baby. Oh God, yes... Just like that... just like... Hyuckie," You pant softly. The stars dot the black of the night and twinkle dreamily as you feel your body beginning to tremble.

He chuckles as he continues lapping and sucking at your clit; hands squeezing your hips to keep you in place as the soft stubble on his face scratches softly at your inner thighs. The stars look as if you could reach out and touch them and you try to; one hand releasing its clutch on Hyuck's hair to stupidly reach out for a soft orange star that stands out among the rest. Hyuckie laughs harder and licks at your soaked entrance.

He pulls away for a moment and swats your thigh, "Look at me," he says softly. You tear your eyes away from the orange star and look down at him. He stares back at you; eyes wild. hair tussled, and his lips pink, puffy, and wet with your arousal. You hold his gaze as he presses a kiss to your mound, "Call me oppa."

"Fuck no," You spit out peevishly. He holds you a little firmer, "Come on... You know you want to. You don't mind calling me oppa when my grandma's around," he whispers.

"That's different," You moan as goes back to licking and suck in your cunt but much slower.

"Yeah? And how is that?" he says between soft strokes against your clit.

"I'm just... I- I'm just- I-"

"I'm just, I'm just, I'm just... spit it out."

"I'm just... being... respectful..."

"Then be respectful right now and do what I said. "

His eyes burn into yours and you swallow thickly. The sound of the ocean waves crashing against the pier mingle with Il Divo's Caruso on the car speakers and you squirm, "Turn this off. I don't wanna cum to an opera song, Hyuck... It's weird."

"It's scratching my brain. Just relax, I promise it's gonna be different," Hyuck says as he peppers kisses over your thighs.

"You'd know this how?" You ask him softly, annoyed that this dialogue is happening but now oddly engaged.

"I was listening to this song the other day while you were at work and I was doing the laundry and well... your panties- the sapphire ones with the lace embroidery were kinda just there and-"

"You jerked off because of my panties?"

"I jerked off with your panties... the song was just a nice topper."

You snort and shake your head, "That is very on brand for you."

Hyuck shrugs blandly, "I have a hot girlfriend and I'm in love. I am not embarrassed."

You smile and touch his face, "If you weren't so good to me, I don't know what I'd do," You sigh dreamily. Hyuck shrugs again, this time smugly, "It's easy... nothin' to it," he whispers before pressing his mouth back to your throbbing cunt. He sucks on your clit lazily and you look back up at the sky.

He stops again and you look back down at him. He gazes back at you expectantly.

"Hyuck, please."

"Call me oppa and I'll eat your pussy until you're so far gone that you'll think I really did send you to the stars. I promise."

#neoculturecollectives #kvanity #k-lables #nct smut #kpop smut #nct 127 smut #haechan smut #nct dream smut #donghyuck smut #kpop smut for black girls #nct x black!reader #ambw kpop #kpop ambw #nct #haechan #haechan x reader

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spdrvyn · 11 months

Text

full stomachs, fuller hearts — MIGUEL O'HARA

SUMMARY: miguel has gotten used to eating dinner by himself so you decide to change his nightly routine.

THIS FIC CONTAINS: literally nothing but pure unaldulterated fluff. gender neutral terms mostly but querido is used once.

NOTES: OKAY so this was actually a request for someone but i was a dumbass and accidentally POSTED the draft when i meant to save it for later, i panicked and deleted the post so now i lost the request from my inbox forever 💔 whoever that dude was i hope you find this and i hope you enjoy

Lonely dinners were always a common occurence for Miguel.

That was just how things are. After a long and drawn out day of protecting the multiverse, protecting the city, protecting everything that he's built up and coming home to a desolate penthouse.

It was the norm for him, he had grown accustomed to it. Being isolated in general wasn't a foreign concept to him, but you brought more change to his life that he thought he would hate.

He loves you a lot. You two had been in a committed relationship for a few months now but haven't moved in yet. The every few hours during a day that you would get to visit him or perhaps he could swing by to your apartment were the only times he felt some sense of warmth in his cold, silent life.

It's not like he didn't want to ask you to move in, he does. Oh, so badly. It's just that the constant fear that he's going too fast or getting too excited over this newfound love. He doesn't want to scare you away.

There was also just a small part of him that was getting too used to being around you. It's gone to the fact that whenever he ate dinner, he'd always imagine you on the other side of that table, laughing and sharing stories about how you're day went.

When he snapped out of it, the sight of the empty chair across him brought his spirits down even more.

You were aware of this too.

Which was why you were up at the wee hours of the night, trying to watch an online video recipe for making empanadas. You knew how to cook enough meals to get by but you wanted to try something different for Miguel.

The bar was set a little bit higher this time. You've been over at Miguel's place before and he has cooked for you and every single time you've tried his dishes they were utterly delectable.

You didn't only want to make all of this food for him just because he's constantly eating alone but because he's really expanded your tastebuds ever since you two developed a much more intimate relationship. You could at least owe him one homecooked dinner.

Reminders to yourself, thank Lyla for letting you in and don't blow up Miguel's penthouse.

As you followed the tutorial step-by-step, you couldn't help but let your mind wander a little further. You wondered how Miguel was doing right now.

Yes, he's strong and agile in an almost inhuman way but at the same time you still worried for him. If only he could be here right now, you'd love to have the opportunity to cook with him.

He was grateful that you weren't in the present moment with him right now, his stomach growl in anticipation for it's next meal as he was running and swinging from rooftop to rooftop to get back to his penthouse.

There were many obstacles that he encountered on the way back. The classic old lady getting her purse snatched which gave him severe déjà vu, a bank robbery, and a cat stuck in a tree.

He grew progressively exhausted with each stop, not forgetting that he had his actual duties at the headquarters that he just left from. Sore muscles and a throbbing head, a painful combo for Miguel.

Maybe he should just skip dinner altogether and opt to immediately pass out on his bed, showering in the morning and having a very heavy breakfast. Yeah, that would work...

He glares into the window of his penthouse, not because he was hesitant to make the jump but because the lights were open. He was sure that he left all of his rooms in complete darkness before leaving.

With one final jump, his claws dig into the edge of his window as he pulls himself up. His eyes narrow, in attempts of getting a good peek of what exactly was going on.

An intruder, a home invasion, Lyla having a party without telling him were all of his possible theories.

What he didn't expect was to see you setting up his plate on his kitchen island, plates of delicious smelling food prepared as well.

There was an intrusion, that's for sure. The intrusion of blush on his cheeks, which he quickly had to shake as he took his mask off.

However, as quickly as it disappeared, it came back once he saw the look on your face the moment you noticed his presence.

Pure glee and warmth is how he'd describe it. It's also how he'd describe the embrace that you immediately pull him into, throwing the silverware that you were readying.

It's not like he hesitated to touch you either, he wrapped his arms around you. So glad that he gets to bask in your existence again, bask in you.

"What's all this, querido?"

You separate from Miguel for a brief moment before walking over to the kitchen counter, proudly showing off your creations. "Empanadas and menudo!"

It was like stars clouded Miguel's vision as it all goes through his mind. You came to his house, fixed up a whole meal for him, and for what? He doesn't remember getting you any gifts recently.

So why?

"Are you just going to stare or are you going to try one?" chuckled you, at least it got Miguel to snap out of his daze. His hands reaches out to one of the empanadas and he takes a bite.

Okay, if he was being honest, he's tasted much better before.

But you put so much thought, so much time, and so much care into making this for him. All of those qualities overshadowed the taste and dryness of it, filling his stomach with something else entirely.

This was probably one of the best empanadas he's ever tasted.

"It's really good." He says, swallowing the last of his food, "Best that one I've ever tasted, mi cielo." Then leaning in to press a small kiss to your forehead, warm hand cupping your cheek.

"You're just saying that, Miguel. I tasted them before you got here and they're really dry."

"Still the best I've ever tasted."

He continues to plant kisses on you, trailing from your forehead to the bridge of your nose to your cheek then boarding at your lips, you giggle into the kiss but before it progresses any further, he stops and pulls away.

"Do you want to move in with me?"

request rules here, masterlist here

#spiderman: across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spiderverse #atsv #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #spiderman #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara fluff #gender neutral reader #gn reader #reader insert #x reader #fluff #romance #cute #domestic

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buckyalpine · 1 year

Text

Work Wife

Bucky x reader

Some angst, past crappy relationship with cheating but Bucky is a sweet baby and makes it all better. Lots and lots of fluff

“See you soon doll” Bucky pecked a kiss onto your head before making his way out to a new job he had taken up at a small bookstore. He’d taken a few months off of missions, needing a break from it all and the store that wasn’t too far from the compound was perfect.

You smiled watching him run off, not wanting to be late. It warmed you seeing how happy he was, it had only been a couple of weeks and he was glowing.

He clearly loved it.

Every day he’d come back, excited to tell you about how his day went; the new book he read, how his coworker, Rosa, introduced him to a new coffee, the puppy that visited the store, the new café he went to with Rosa, how to processed an online order for the first time, how Rosa walked him through the whole thing.

You were curled up in bed with Bucky, your head on his chest while he cuddled you close, telling you about the most recent events that took place that afternoon (which of course, included Rosa). He laughed about how the owner of the store, Dave, told them to stop flirting so much, it was going to make the other customers sick.

“Almost followed her home today, she made these almond cookies that were so good, I wanted to bring you some but Dave finished them”

You hummed, shaking off the tiny inkling of insecurity and jealously that had started to crawl up your spine. You were over thinking. It was nothing. Rosa was a coworker.

Bucky would never cheat.

He loved you.

“Come visit soon?” He whispered, before kissing your forehead and turning the lamp off so you could both fall asleep.

“I will” You kissed his chest, biting your lip, wondering if it was a good idea. You had been meaning to visit for ages but missions and recovery had taken up your time. Now you feared actually seeing everything in person would make everything too real.

You didn’t know if you could go through that again.

*****

“Sounds like you have a work wife” Tony snorted, over hearing bits and pieces of Bucky’s day at the book store while you both sat at the kitchen island, eating dinner.

“A work wife?” Bucky looked confused, having never heard the term before, he was already on the struggle bus trying to find the courage to make you his wife, what was this additional fuckery.

“Y’know, like a close bond you have with someone at work and it almost feels like you’re married to them cause you get each other and there’s some banter and bickering in there. Like a wife”

Bucky nodded, it made sense. His relationship with Rosa was sort of like what Tony was describing and he certainly felt a deeper connection with her than just someone else he worked with.

“Pepper says Nat is my work wife but Nat said Steve is her work husband, Cap still doesn’t understand the concept, so we’re all in a bit of an entanglement until further notice”

Your heart started to hammer in your chest. You knew they were all just joking and you kept reminding yourself that Bucky would never, never cheat but...

That’s also what you thought in your last relationship.

When he said they were just co-workers.

When he literally introduced you to her as his work wife.

She was in every single one of his stories.

His day wasn’t complete unless she was in it.

You tried to give him the benefit of the doubt but surely being a work wife didn’t entail sending each other nudes.

You swallowed thickly, trying to calm yourself down before you got ahead of yourself, Bucky was different.

*****

“So...” You fidgeted with your fingers, watching Bucky get ready for work, letting your curiosity get the best of you. “Whats-whats Rosa like?”

“She’s super sweet. We have a lot in common, its incredible. I don’t think I’ve had that type of connection in a long time. She’s caring, she listens, more patient than I am, that’s for sure” Bucky snorted to himself, embarrassed over the number of time’s he had asked her to help him go over the system they used for returns. She didn’t mind, showing him again, every single time.

“Oh” You felt your heart sink, you didn’t know what answer you were expecting from him but his words felt like salt rubbed on a wound. You didn’t want to dump your insecurities onto him, it wasn’t fair when he hadn’t done anything wrong. He gave you a kiss good bye as always before heading out the door.

It was getting late. Bucky was never late. You couldn't fall asleep, your stomach churning at the number of reasons he could be late but nothing brought you comfort.

“You’re still up?” Bucky had walked in quietly, expecting you to be asleep but you were up, reading a book, still waiting for him. “Sorry baby, I got caught up with Rosa, I lost track of time. She really is like my work wife” He strode over to the closer to change out of his clothes, not seeing the tears that had welled in your eyes.

That did it. You couldn't swallow the lump in your throat or mask the sniffles that escaped you. You tried to bite your lips shut but you couldn’t hide the tiny whimpers that slipped through.

“Doll?” Bucky frowned when he heard your soft cries, rushing out to come by your side, his heart racing when he saw how distraught you looked. “Babygirl what’s wrong”

“It’s-it’s nothing, it has nothing to do with you” You shook your head, not wanting to go into the way you had trusted your past boyfriends so much, only to end up hurt every single time. You were practically watching history repeat itself and you hated it.

“Babygirl, talk to me, please” Bucky pulled you into his lap, doing his best to soothe you but it didn’t seem to work.

“W-would-would you ever-ch-cheat on m-me?” You hiccupped between sobs.

“Never doll, I’d never do anything to hurt you baby, you’re it for me. No one else comes close to you. Where’s all this coming from sweet heart”

You sucked in a breath, your body feeling hot, almost embarrassed to tell Bucky about your past relationship but he had to know. You told him about how your ex endlessly spoke about his coworker and how amazing she was. It started off fine. Then he started coming home late. He gave her that glorious title. Then he tripped and put his dick in her.

“You-you said work wife, I guess it just reminded me about him” You shrugged, “I know you like working with her a lot, Its just hard because I trusted him when he said there was nothing between them”

“I’m so sorry you had to go through that baby” Bucky wrapped his arms tightly around you, peppering kisses onto your face. “I promise you it’s nothing like that with Rosa” He could tell by your face you were not convinced even though you were trying hard to believe him. You nodded against his chest, closing your eyes, hoping sleep would help you feel better.

“I think you should me et her” Bucky smiled softly while you blinked up at him, his sweet hopefully eyes looking down at you. “Please?”

****

You gripped Bucky’s hand tightly as he walked with you down the sidewalk, your heart racing while his was jumping with excitement. The bell jingled as he opened the door, the soft scent of books immediately evading your senses, calming you slightly. Soft music from the 40′s played in the background on an old record player.

“Rosa!” Bucky called out, grinning when he heard the tiny footsteps rustling between the rack.

“James! It’s your day off darling” A tiny old lady popped her head from around the bookshelf; she was wearing a soft pink cardigan, her grey hair tucked in a bun and thin gold framed glasses perched on top of her head. She was half Bucky’s height, standing on her toes to pinch on of his cheeks before looking at you with bright eyes. She was adorable.

“Rosa, this is my girlfriend, y/n”

“Oh! I see why you call her a doll, what a sweet heart” She didn’t hesitate to pull you down for a hug, cupping your face gently in her soft hands “He talks about you so much darling”

“Y/n, this is my work wife, Rosa” You felt your cheeks heat up while Bucky smiled bashfully, excited you finally got to meet the people and see the place that brought him so much happiness.

It all made sense now.

Of course she understood him well. Of course he felt happy here. They reminded him of all the things he had missed out on. When he was with them, he felt like he had a small piece of his old self back.

“What are you doing here Barnes” Dave snorted, shaking his head “Here to flirt with my wife again?” An older gentlemen made his way over, cane in hand, dressed handsomely, nudging his wife playfully. “I hired you to work here, not flirt with the punks that come in here”

“We’ve been married 60 years, he still insists we’re just colleagues” She shook her head, elbowing his side while Bucky chuckled, enjoying the typical banter between the two, something he hoped he’d have with you one day.

“When you’re on the clock you work for me” Dave shrugged, giving her a gentle kiss before sitting down and sorting a pile of books. “Shouldn’t have hired this one to work here, he’s been distracting you”

“Can you blame me, look at how handsome he is” Rose threw him a wink before helping her husband while Bucky blushed beside you, walking you through the store. “Handsome little devil”

“He’s a little shit”

“They won’t let me call them Mr. or Mrs or Sir or Mam” Bucky shook his head, thinking back to the utter struggle her had the first week, getting bonked with Dave’s cane every time he slipped up.

“Don’t age me, I’m younger than you, if anything I should be addressing you as Sir, Sergeant. You were already in your 20′s when I was born”

“They’re so sweet” You giggled, squeaking when Bucky tugged you to the back of the store.

“They are” Bucky hummed, wrapping his hands around your waist, pulling you closer “I-I want that with you some day doll” He whispered, nervous with what he was hinting at.

“and what’s that my handsome devil?” You stood on your toes, kissing his lips sweetly, your heart fluttering while he rested his forehead on yours.

“Be happy with you, love you, grow old with you”

“I want that with you James” You could feel your eyes sting a little, snuggling into his chest, nothing would have made you happier than getting to spend the rest of your life with your soldier.

“Propose to her already!”

“Shut up and let the boy be”

Bucky chuckled, his eyes twinkling as he looked down at you, giving you a few more kisses before spending the rest of the afternoon, cuddled up with you on the couch with some coffee, books, and his mind planning how he wanted to ask you to marry him.

(and eventually he does propose to you. At that very bookstore. Dave and Rosa are 100% at the wedding. They’re more excited than anyone else that their son is getting married because Bucky is like their baby now. Your babies call them grandma and grandpa. Bucky still teasingly calls her his wife and she blushes like a little girl every single time)

Tags:

@glxwingrxse @hungryyeyess @sebsgirl71479 @beabutterfly987 @teambarnes72 @witchywhore @jamesbuckybarneswify @slutforsexyseabass @chrisdrysdale @littlemarvelmenfan @buggy14 @whimsyplaty92 @sergntbarnes @inkedaztec @pono-pura-vida @moonlightreader649 @brooklynscherry-z @elle14-blog1 @justsebstan @littlelightnings @psychomanniac-blog @happyt0exist @emmabarnes @bethyruth @matchat3a @cjand10 @getwellsoontana @cherryschaos @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @ashenc-blog @buckybarnessimpp @potatothots @goldylions @high-functioning-lokipath @morganemorganite-blog @kingfleury @peaches1958 @spiderman-stilinski @peaceinourtime82 @gublur @wintersmelodie @geeky-politics-46 @lolawassad @almosttoopizza @a-poor-gryffindork @alternativeprincess @buckycallsmeaslut @kamaria-sweet-writes @charmedbysarge @xnorthstar3x @kryoee7 @alina02 @gh0stgurl @polishprincess999 @jessybarnes @alltheficsiwant @chemtrails-club

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nrdmssgs · 11 months

Text

Little things, they do (Alex, Soap, König) (headcannons)

Masterlist

Part 2 (Price, Ghost, Gaz) here

Ok, guys, first of all, thank you all for giving this little sketch THAT much love. Honestly, I'mm shocked. I'm blaming mister Riley here, but boy, thank you so-so-so much for 100 beautiful followers. I`ve actually had something for this milestone, but I was sure, it would be hit somewhere in the end of the summer. Hope, you like it!

Little things, they do, that get you every time. Silly, warm, heart-melting, wholesome things.

Alex Keller

Almost unconsciously lowers his head to stay on your eye-level whenever you two are sitting at a table and chatting.

If you are cooking and even insisting on doing it solo (maybe it's just your thing, maybe you like to have more room in the kitchen), he is never leaving you. He will just sit there and keep you company, or tell you some stories, or maybe find a youtube video for you both to listen to, while you're doing your magic.

Talking about your cooking, he never turns down anything, you've made. Never. “Alex, don't take that bun, I burnt it!” Eats it anyway, because it's your effort that counts and makes anything you cook so special to him.

If you are dating, and he needs to go early in the morning, he covers your eyes with the corner of his blanket (very carefully so as not to wake you up!). That way, he can turn on the light and collect his clothes without waking you up.

Def pulls you closer in his sleep. Buries his face in your hair, mumbles some sweet nonsense, places a soft kiss on the top of your head. (by gods I need more headcanons on this man sleeping)

Sometimes just stops whatever he is doing to say “I love you” and give you a kiss. The fridge is still open, his sweater is halfway off him, his hands still wet and water runs on uncleaned dishes? Doesn't matter, the kiss is what important to him.

Johnny Soap MacTavish

Once Price saw how you two interact and commented it like “Looks like our Tweedledum finally found his Tweedledee…” And while other pairs could get offended, you two weren't bothered at all (you're two chaotic crows, nothing can stop you!). In fact, from that moment anything he buys or makes for you, comes with a small handwritten note, saying, “to: my Dee. from: your Dum.”

Once he cooked an absolutely amazing pie. You were practicaly moaning, while savouring it and he just sat there all bright with pride. In a few years you saw the same kind of pie in a menu in the pub, where you were supposed to meet Johnny and others from the 141. Once you pointed it out to Johnny, others flinched and looked at each other. In response to your uncomprehending look, one of them admits that Soap was so worried that you would not like his cooking that he practiced at the base for several weeks. Because of it, their diet consisted only of Johnnys` pies for these weeks.

Has no concept of “too girly stuff”. Will gladly go shopping with you, paint your nails, help you dye your hair at home, if you feel like it. Will sneak your eye patches, because they smell so nice, and he feels so fresh after using them!

During his deployments, sends you tons of the most random photos just to calm you down and cheer you up (because every time you are too scared, this could be his last mission). “Ok, bonnie, this time I present you the collection of random rocks, I've met on work.” For the next week, you keep getting… exactly that. Photos of rocks with short comments like “Here's wee one.”

You don't know why the last photo he sent you that week was a photo of some guy in a creepy mask. You also don't have a single idea, why Johnny then goes radio silent for two days and why he has a brand-new phone, when he's back.

König

You have a stiff back? He will gladly take you by the hands and lift you up so that your spine is extended. "König! No, no, wait, don't, OH!... Oh… Sweet mother of jesus, I actually feel better..."

Even if you are just friends, and you are staying over at his place - he presents you with a shampoo, shower gel, conditioner and body lotion of EXACTLY the same brands as you're using at home. He just notes these small things and wants you to feel relaxed and taken care of when you're around him.

You can call him anytime on any occasion and if his phone is on, he will answer in SECONDS. You had a bad dream, and it's 4 am, and he lives on the other end of the town? In another town even? No problems, he answers almost immediately and comes to you as soon as he can. Even if It's just to hold you for 15-20 minutes, while you slowly drift to sleep, and then to drive back to his place for another good hour.

Thanks you for everything, and not only verbally! Writes small notes and leaves them on your bag or just straight gives them to you. He doesn't take anything for granted. Every your intention is a gift for him.

And that goes not only for the time, when you two have just met each other. You are his wife or husband since 10 years, you already have 2-3 beautiful kids? He still writes you notes, thanking you for the most incredible goodnight kiss, you gave him yesterday (every your goodnight kiss is the most incredible to him).

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angelbaby-fics · 5 months

Note

Daddy stucky x little reader x little Peter where the reader is in babyspace and want to give them paci kisses and everytime she does she start to giggle 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Paci Kisses

Word Count: 640

A/N: Eeeep this idea is so so cute, thank you for requesting it!!! I don't know what else to say about this one other than I had a sweet time writing it & I hope you enjoy! 💕

Steve and Bucky were so very in love, and they weren’t afraid to show it. Every morning when Steve put breakfast down on the table, he’d kiss Bucky on the lips before they each began eating, their own little way of saying grace. Peter would always giggle, usually regressed around that silly age when kisses meant cooties, but you were too little to understand. Every time one of them left the house, they’d share a kiss; sometimes even just when one of them left the room. You were so tiny, you didn’t fully comprehend what it meant, your brain only really working in concepts. All you knew was that daddies meant love, and daddies kissed a lot, so kisses must mean love too. You wanted to return the favor.

That morning, you were woken up by Steve’s strong arms lifting you out of your crib. You blinked sleepily and smiled at him from behind your paci, your cheeks rounding out and your eyes squinting as you did so.

“Good morning angel, I love you,” Steve greeted, always wanting the first thing you heard every morning to be words of love. He kissed you on the forehead and shifted you into the crook of his arm so he could carry you out into the living room with one hand. As he did so, you leaned forward, tapping the plastic of your pacifier against his cheek.

“Woah, what was that, baby?” Steve asked with a slight chuckle. He didn’t think you’d really be violent with him, but he wasn’t sure what you could be doing when you clumsily headbutted his cheek.

You were too small to explain it, your little brain couldn’t find the words. All you could think to do was kiss him, over and over and over.

“Mwah, mwah, mwah!” You mumbled softly from behind the paci, softening your taps in the hopes he’d get the memo. And boy did he. “Is that a kiss? Are you kissing daddy?” Steve asked with wide, excited eyes and laughter in his voice.

You nodded, giggling as you kissed him again, again, again. Steve kissed you back, planting his lips on the plastic, which made you giggle even more. Then, he carried you into the living room where Bucky and Peter were, with a huge grin on his face.

“Buck! Look what our baby can do!” He said with glee, and then tapped on his cheek, motioning for you to kiss him once more, which you did joyously.

Bucky cheered and clapped for you, getting up from the couch to give a standing ovation, which made you beam even harder from behind the paci.

“Can I have one, babydoll?” He asked eagerly, and you nodded, reaching out from Steve’s arms towards Bucky’s.

You happily kissed your Baba all over his face, giggling after each one until eventually the kisses devolved into you just nuzzling your paci across his cheeks like a puppydog. Steve joined the cuddlefest on the couch, pinching your little round cheeks. Peter had been distracted from his toys since the moment you entered the room, watching your interactions with captivated awe, but he finally couldn’t stand it anymore. He stood up, letting a toy car fall from his hand with a clatter.

“‘S not fair! I want kisses too!” He whined with a pout.

You didn’t want your Petie to feel left out, you loved him just as much as you loved your daddies of course. You reached out to him now, kicking your little feet with delight as he ran over to the three of you. Now your whole family was together on the couch, and you took turns kissing each of them, and each of them took turns kissing you. You’d already mastered your newest skill, and you couldn’t wait to keep practicing every single day.

#little!reader #stucky x little!reader #daddy!stucky x little!reader #daddy!stucky #bucky x little!reader #steve rogers x little!reader #daddy!bucky #daddy!steve #cg!bucky #cg!steve #cg x little!reader #peter x little!reader #little!peter x little!reader #marvel agere #agere fic #chloe's fic

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prodbymaui · 1 year

Text

Dinner Served

hmm, I got a really big problem

PAIRING: mark lee x fem!reader

GENRE: pure filth, public sex, oral sex (giving)

WORD COUNT: 1.3k+ words

SYNOPSIS: already in a dinner with your boyfriend, yet you still craves for something else.

A/N: 'golden hour' got my brain all mush up, enjoy this 1k+ words about pure filth with the one and only, mark lee. stream golden hour and happy reading, everyone!

A fancy dinner at a 5-michelin stars restaurant, something that one could expect from the one and only, Mark Lee, the ever so romantic man most people would do anything to be with. Too bad for them because clearly, the man they desperately desires only have his eyes fixated on you, full of love and adoration.

''We'll have creamed spinach stuffed salmon, smothered filet mignon and a bottle of wine for now,'' Giving the waiter a small smile, Mark dismisses him. He taps away on his phone, eyebrows scrunch to the center in concentration.

''Look-- we're nearing to finish my new single, kinda going through the concepts I want on the music video right now,'' The screen tells you how much progress was made, making you smile in a proud manner. ''What are your plans for the music video?''

Mark doesn't hesitate to go on about his plans and all, why would he? You've always made sure that your boyfriend won't be wary of crossing the 'talking too much' boundaries whenever he excitedly shares his adventures on his job. You love to see and hear him ramble about it, even though most of the time you can't understand anything.

Though, as much as you love the way he's so dedicated about his music, sometimes, the extreme passion results to the lack of attention towards you. It's not like you want him to choose you over his passion, no. You just couldn't prevent the feeling of longing.

Throughout, you nod at him and give comments or questions as interest pricked you from time to time. Now that Mark is distracted on his phone while he searches yet another story or TMI to tell you, you take in his appearance. Wearing his black dress shirt tucked in to his black jeans, watch and rings dawning his wrist and fingers, his quite long blonde hair braided on one side-- letting the other side falls naturally. You thank every possible gods and deities to exists that you are the lucky one to have Mark Lee as your lover.

''Oh,'' Flinching in a faux surprise, the spoon hitting the floor makes a slight tud sound, catching Mark's attention. You get off your chair to pick it up under the table, getting on your knees as you hold on to the hem of your dress, preventing it to ride up.

''Get back, babe. We'll just ask the waiter for a new one.''

''It's okay, I could just wipe it with the napkin,'' You rumble a chuckle when you hear a sound of disgust from Mark, taking back what you said, informing him that it's just a joke. You catch a glimpse of Mark's blonde strand peeking at you from under the table slightly.

''Have you found it?''

''Yeah, I found it,'' Shoving your face at the clothed crotch, you lap the outline of his dick, smiling against it when you feel him jerk, enjoying the reaction.

He gulps, eyes wavering as it roams around the place, observing the different groups of people who's busy chatting and eating. They seem to be indifferent to what's happening around them. Mark sighs, closing his eyes for a quick second before he turns his attention back on you. ''Just be quick, please?''

''Babe-- what do you think you're doing? Get the fuck out of there!'' He whispered but in a shouting manner, afraid that people might notice and see your face situated right in front of his dick. Humming in stubbornness, you fondle the bump, looking up and batting your eyes innocently at Mark when he lifts up the table cloth, cursing when his dark eyes meets your doe ones.

Your lips curves to form a cheeky smile, fingers working their way to open his pants and pull down the zipper, you place a gentle kiss to the certain area which you assumes his tip. Mark, himself, pulls down the front part of his jeans, revealing his near-hard shaft, waiting to be devoured.

Taking the cock in your hands, you move to lick from his balls to the slit of his tip, wiggling your tongue with a weak attempt to dig in the parting line. Giving you a last look, Mark fixes the table cloth, enough to cover your figure and slouches, enabling you to have a much better and easier access.

You suckle the tip lightly, spitting to have it wet. It is when you realizes that you don't have much time before the waiter comes back with your food and wine, so you relaxes your throat, opening your mouth widely enough as you take him fully.

Mark must've been sensitive because his hands travels down to grasps the back of your neck, his hips thrusting upwards slightly as he tries to cut your process of prolonging the activity. You closes your eyes shut, bobbing up and down while you adjusts to his girth, feeling his thighs flexing against your cheeks.

The dick is long enough that you have to use your hand to cover the rest of its length, pumping and circling it, matching the pace of your mouth. With the cock being wet enough, you stays on the head, mouthing and sucking it eagerly, as if you have little to no patience of having his release on your tongue. You let your hands do the work for the remaining length, biting your lip when you see the color of your lipstick staining his cock a bit.

Taking a breath, tears that prickles your eyes earlier finally escapes your lids, running down your cheeks as you push Mark's shaft inside your throat again, reaching the farthest that you can. Oh how you wish you could see your lover's expressions right now. If things are different, Mark will be cursing and whining loudly, his hand will be gripping your hair in a ponytail as he fucks your mouth.

But you're in a public place right now, and he can't do what he usually does, giving you the upper hand and power to control him because what can he possibly do? Thrust his hips feverishly while he holds your head in place and risk the public seeing their dear romantic boyfriend material, Mark Lee, railing his lover's mouth like it's her pussy?

Of course, he wouldn't do that. So you take advantage of it, pressing your nose near into his pelvis, pulling off of him as you passes the work to your hands again, moving your lips to take in one side of his balls, wetting it while you let your tongue taste his flavor, closing your eyes.

Your cheeks makes a contact with the spit on his cock, smearing it messily at the right side of your face. The mixture of saliva and tears on the surface of your skin feels so fucking dirty but that's what makes it hot, especially that you're not caged in the four corners of your bedroom, the possibility of someone noticing your figure under the table stirs the feeling of thrill inside you and Mark.

It isn't that long before your boyfriend tightens his grip on the back of your neck, signalling the nearing of his release. Yet the odds seems to not favor Mark right now as your ears rings at the footsteps you're sure is coming your way, pulling off of Mark completely as you sit back on your chair, fixing yourself before someone comes.

The activity would've been naturally pulled off if Mark didn't let his usual awkward and nervous persona take over him, fully giving it away as the waiter's eyes widens, clearing his throat while he tries to stop the stuttering when he places the foods and wine on your table. Smiling at him, you say your thank yous.

''Can I get a new spoon, please? And here's your tip, I apologize for the trouble,'' The waiter have no choice but to nod, hoping he wouldn't see the same scenario when he comes back with your new spoon.

#nct #mark smut #nct smut #mark lee smut #nct 127 smut #mark lee x reader #nct x reader #nct fanfic #mark scenarios #mark imagines #nct scenarios #mark fanfic #nct dream smut #nct dream #prodbymaui

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sadtonight · 2 years

Text

Kissing you, kissing you, kissing you, kissing you- (additional entry)

Summary: you kissed him in more ways that he could imagine and more times he could count. But he had his preferences in kissing of course, reaching cloud nine when you did his favourite types~

Characters: Ace, Leona, Jade, Rook, Malleus;

Warnings: none, lots of kissing, a bit spicy, mentions of blood in Jade's part, reader is gender neutral, established romantic relationships;

Side notes: ah, those individuals. It's like love/hate thing depending on what sort of content of them I will encounter. Except for Rook, he's such a freak I'm kinda smitten ha ha... But if I knew any of them in real life, we would throw hands on every second encounter lmao.

Ace

— what Ace really hates is the concept of hesitate. What's there to be unsure of? Just pick something and be done with it. Yeah, that's why after short lived pining and countless lame "are we together or something?" hints the ginger came up you to one day and encouraged you to finally admit that you definitely had a thing for him;

— how you become a couple was rather straightforward and casual, and yet Ace hated how his cheeks were so hot, praying for his heart not to break his ribs from how much it was pounding at that moment. The way you stupidly smiled and how you told him that you indeed liked him very very much almost made him howl from happiness;

— Ace is experienced in dating or at the very least he knows what to do, like hugging, holding hands, cuddling, eating from the same plate, playing with each others hair, going to college together etc etc. Oh right, and kissing of course!

— the ginger was such a tease and he knew that. He would intentionally sway his face from you when you reached out to meet his soft lips, which at that point needed a punch instead of a kiss. It was strange how professional and amateur he was in making out at the same time. Angling your face with one hand, the other resting in your shoulder, but his tongue being all over the place. Ace preferred that kind of kisses, or at least that's what he told you;

— one time you stayed over in Heartslabyul dorm, both of you chilling out in his shared room that was lucky empty that evening. It was a comfortable silence — Ace was a bit groggy from a hard day so he didn't speak much. You laid on the bed beside your boyfriend, watching him play some game on the smartphone, his head currently resting close to your chest;

— all while you combed his hair in a steady, lulling motion. Ace almost succumbed to sleep, until he heard you quietly wishing him good night, and feathery pressing your lips to his face: his eyelids, his forehead, his cheekbones with cheeks, his nose, his jaw and finally his mouth. Why in Twisted Wonderland you were so damn adorable?? After saying it out loud, he opened his eyes and turned his head to the side. Ace was as red as roses he often painted, and despite not saying a single word after, he hoping you would continue. Hey quit staring and... please continue kissing him...

Leona

— generally nonchalant about kissing. If you want to stick to lion's side, clinging to his arm and leaning on his chest he wouldn't mind at all, unless you get in the way. Although same doesn't applies for kissing: if you demand kisses he would poke fun at your "desperation" but if you politely ask for permission to peck him he will, with a scowl or pokerface, give in and let you do the thing, with great reluctance in public though;

— honestly he didn't care, lazily making out when both of you are cuddled somewhere warm was amazing, case closed. But Leona wouldn't say it's his top one choice — however, if asked about his favourite type he would change the topic, unless it's you who was asking, because in that instance he still wouldn't give you a solid answer. The truth is that both of you knew what it was;

— the prideful male hated, despised, absolutely loathed how you could just come up to his sitting or laying form and...kiss his head. That's right, that's it. First you lightly ruffled his hair with your hand, and when Leona started to grumble, you would crane down and press your lips to the crown of his head or to the space near his ears — the worst places by far;

— it's not supposed to feel so nice, it was unfair how this tiny stupid gesture made him all warmed up inside. Like he was some plain house cat or something. The beastman now has to be on an extra lookout for the annoying hunter: if that creepy guy found out about how vulnerable Leona is to head kisses...it won't end well. Similarly, if Ruggie found out, then the lion can expect constant snickers and mockery from the hyena boy;

— but if you point it out, while actually pressing kisses onto his head, which was resting on your chest, Leona would tell you to shut up already. Provided you feel bold enough to keep teasing him about his soft side, he would bring you down, pinning your hands with one hand while squishing your face with another, loom over you. Care to repeat what you have just said?

— if you want to be "roughed up" so badly you should have just asked, he is more than happy to put you back into place. Oh? Leona won't stand a chance against you? Hah, sounds like a bunch of crap but sure, amuse him will ya? He already won you over, little battles like these are child's play.

Jade

— now if you only knew Jade on the surface level, as a prim and proper, polite and kind person, a true gentleman if you will, then it would "shock" you to know that he really really enjoys all kinds of unexpected kisses from his beloved partner;

— merman couldn't just get enough of them! Ordinary things that ordinary land couples do were very educational and, simply put, nice to experience: it involved so much mouth work and care, like not losing track of time in order to not forget to breath, or not to bite your tongue off in the heat of the moment. If any of the aforementioned situations happened, your boyfriend would actually feel just a drop of guilt instead of pure gloat, rubbing circles on your cheeks in a comforting manner as you heavily pant or swallow saliva mixed with your own blood;

— when it came to unexpected kisses however, Jade would rather not be a "surpriser" but a "victim". He was merely browsing books in the college library when all of the sudden you popped up out of nowhere and unexpectedly smooched his slightly parted lips and skipped off to do your things. Weren't you the most adorable one? Albeit bystanders were not all too pleased...

— said bystanders were mostly Floyd and Azul that did not, in fact, asked to be subjected to your amorous business. Floyd had to drag his twin brother away to finally get to alchemistry classes when your hugging and pecking was taking way too much time. And Azul had to literally make a fake coughing fit just for his vice dorm leader to finally tear his face away from yours and give him proper attention;

— what gets Jade to absolutely lose his mind is lipstick that easily leaves marks. When he sees the beauty product carefully applied to your lips he can't help but playfully, expectantly smile at you. At first he was quite upset upon seeing his face, neck and shirt covered in a colour of your lips, yet it was weirdly fascinating. Merman helped you apply lipstick back, gently gliding the tube along your lower lip while holding your chin up, but insisted on leaving those pretty love marks you left intact;

— the reaction it raised from his dear brother and dorm leader was priceless. Hmm? You want to say that Jade has a lipstick marks on his shirt's collar, neck, jawline, cheeks and everywhere near his mouth? Oya, you are absolutely correct, he must have not noticed it, how careless of him. Your watchfulness is much appreciated. Que to Azul gagging mentally, and Floyd physically.

Rook

— mon amour, there is no type of affection in the whole universe and beyond that Rook Hunt doesn't love or hasn't expressed yet!! The man showers people with all sorts of commentary on whatever attribute has caught his keen eye, so naturally he can't seem to stop showering you with praise on whatever topic he witness you get involved in;

— the huntsman is very physical with his partner too, if you don't mind that is, since he respects and cares for your wishes. Rook always has one on his hands on your body, like resting his hand on your waist or cradling your hand in a loose hold. Bien sûr, he also never left without planting a kiss onto your being!

— ah, pressing his lips to the back of your hand when you visit Pomefiore, pecking the side of your face when you don't face him directly while you sat together, lurching to your mouth to taste the last bite of the dessert from the your tongue — the delicious looking sweet treat he has been watching you idly eating in the courtyard on the bench for the past fifteen minutes;

— it's easy to kiss Rook once or twice, yet impossible to make out with his mouth running French miles each time you pull away just a little to take a breather or to shift. Additionally, your boyfriend was unreasonably busy, leaving you very little time to get things truly going;

— do not fret through, the huntsman tries his very best to clear his schedule enough to spare you the right amount of time, so you both wouldn't rush things before they escalate to something more... something he admitted to be enjoying way to far;

— Rook is the most desperate when you initiate long, slow, steady and oh so sweet make out session. Sitting or laying down as close possible, limbs wrapped around each other's bodies. It was incredibly warm, like you went ablaze, no matter how much clothes were discarded;

— the pace at which your lips unhurriedly shifted was driving Rook insane, his constantly sharp hunter senses dulling ever so slightly, the only thing on his air deprived mind being to kiss you again, again, again and again for as long as humanly possible. French words and phrases would seep out of this throat, worshiping your sheer existence. L'amour dangereux, he kept chanting, yet kissing you once more, for longer than before.

Malleus

— the fae could have never imagined how charming the kissing process actually was: not long after you two begun kissing on the regular basis he finally realised the appeal. Truly, you will never know until you try it for yourself;

— Malleus acknowledged your affection that was present in the every lightest peck to his skin, soon enough his own infatuation translating into pressing his lips to the part of your face he could easily reach. He adored how surprised you were at the start, your little heart freezing for just a moment when his mouth connected with your forehead. The astonishment quickly wore down after a couple of months unfortunately, but nonetheless the kissing part never got tiresome or boring;

— you had to explain each and every kiss you made since your boyfriend hardly could see the difference. The results and intentions are all the same isn't that right? Turns out formal hand kissing could be romantic too. Malleus found it incredibly amusing, to the point of smirking like a child, when you took his large hand and gracefully yet casually drew your face forward to meet his pale knuckles. It felt so gratifying to receive such treatment considering he was a future king of Briar Valley — something which you regarded without fear or apprehension;

— in turn, dragon fae wished to return the favour. Not a single type of kiss could be satisfactory to the degree that in his opinion would make you as delighted as him. Malleus had tried to apply already existing knowledge of kissing onto you, only to teleport away, with no explanation, to ponder on what else to test when he didn't get the reaction he expected to prompt;

— you never minded the weird antics your boyfriend sometimes drabbled in. He was yours after all, and you loved him either way. You cuddled up to his chest, adjusting in his lap while Malleus was reading an old book. Taking note of your movements, the male brushed the side of your face with his fingers painted in black nail polish;

— you used this opportunity to catch his hand and snuggle into it, pressing light quick pecks all over the slightly cold skin. Malleus could crash gemstones with his bare hands, lift the heaviest objects and ignite or freeze his limbs in a split second, but you adoringly squeezed them with your weaker ones, just having your lips resting on his wrist. Such a precious, mortal, beloved being you were, weren't you?

#twisted wonderland headcanons #twst headcanons #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #ace trapolla x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #jade leech x reader #rook hunt x reader #malleus draconia x reader

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sheisjoeschateau · 4 months

Text

"Oh, so we DO love Steve..." | PART III

⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ SERIES MASTERLIST ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Steve Harrington x Bauman!fem!reader enemies to lovers, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, upside down mayhem, S2-S4, post S4 universe hot-take, end-of-the-world / dystopian setting, ugly fights turned smut (...but with hella plot). 18+

CHAPTER WARNINGS: mega plot-driven smut ahead in this part of the story. you've been warned. MINORS, DNI. 18+

***

Despite everything, you and Steve both get through battling Vecna. You both grin and bear it. You both set aside your differences when the moment calls for it.

Just like you have before. Many times.

And in the midst of it all, you can't help but wonder about your uncle. How he's doing. If he's somewhere in his bunker still, hopefully drinking less (ideally, not at all) and keeping up his phone calls with Joyce. You'd told her to keep tabs on him, and you also told your uncle to keep tabs on her. They needed each other. You had the kids and the teens, but they needed each other. And sure, your uncle has you. Always. But you have to work, and babysit, and hang around a guy who hates your guts because the circumstances won't permit otherwise.

Eddie and Robin really stick up for you. They do. They really like you. Steve can’t stand it.

Even Nancy doesn’t mind you. Honestly, she’s scared of you more than anything. Steve doesn’t care.

The kids love you. Steve won’t make them hate you. He never would. But he won’t endorse their kind sentiments about you either.

More groups are formed, along with more plans. Scary, life-threatening plans.

You stay behind with Dustin and Eddie, knowing that Steve is quietly a basket case over the concept leaving Dustin alone without having him there to protect him from all this shit, the way he has before. With the demodogs, the Russians, and everything up to this point. That kid is his brother. His son.

It’s the only time that Steve tells you thank you.

And he sincerely means it.

By the grace of some unspeakable force, you manage to not only keep Dustin alive...but also Eddie. The bats have done their damage, and you've got some damage yourself. Though not nearly as bad as Eddie. You can withstand yours with adrenaline and the sheer need to protect one of your kids and get this metalhead back to the real world so that he can get proper medical attention.

When Steve and the girls all get back to the three of you there, after all the shit hits the fan - you, Steve, Nancy, Robin and Dustin all manage to get Eddie back across the gate and get him majorly patched up. Thanks to Dr. Owens.

You keep Eddie hidden at Murray's bunker. You're shocked to find it empty, your worry growing more every single minute. But Steve tries to assure you that your uncle is likely fine, probably just out to eat or something. However... even he knows that is not true. Murray does not go anywhere.

"Bauman," he's saying to you, softly. So softly. Softer than he's ever spoken to you once. "He's gonna be okay. I promise. We're here, alright?"

Two days later, Jonathan and his Cali crew all show up. Nancy and him are reunited.

And you watch Steve break.

He doesn’t let it show, not really. But you see it. Both you and Robin do. You let her comfort him. He needs his best friend, much more than he needs you. Especially in this situation. You are undoubtedly the last source of comfort for him in this specific instance.

You reunite with your Uncle Murray, who has returned with Joyce and — to your surprise — a very much alive Hopper. It’s a beautiful reunion, as you all hug tightly.

You all fucking lived, bitch.

Given the new flurry of debris-snow-shit in the air, you all end up having to take shelter.

Steve volunteers his house, given that his parents fled to their vacation home and he told them he wasn’t going. They ditch him, so he has the house all to himself. This time, he doesn’t have to be alone though. He has his real family.

You all move into the Harrington House. Lord knows it’s big enough. But it’s also really tight, for two people who can’t stand each other unless there’s a really ugly monster guy waltzing around that needs to be killed along with his multi-species army of little uglies.

Given the close quarters, on top of the fact that you all can’t leave the house much unless it’s for supplies, you and Steve have no choice but to coexist.

He still resents you, especially seeing Nancy and Jonathan are now getting along again and seem to be doing better. But it's much more subdued now, and you both find a way to talk. Which happens mainly because of you, initiating.

You learn more about Steve's home life, given the pictures everywhere throughout the house. They're all pretty stiff, lacking warmth. You figured that Steve was a pretty lonely trust fund baby, and being that you're a lonely child you can relate to the loneliness that comes with that. Not the trust fund part. Just the only-child-syndrome part, which you know perfectly well forces you to either become very well acquainted with yourself...or hate yourself even more. Steve clearing did not lean into becoming his own source of reliability and companionship, the way that you did. And it made you understand him better. It made you understand why he needed to be around the likes of Carol and Tommy H. He did not know how to be alone with himself.

"I think my dad and I don't even like the same beer," Steve scoffs, allowing himself a humorless chuckle. You don't laugh with him, instead giving him a soft look. An apology with your eyes.

"And my mom, she just...I dunno. Sometimes, I wonder why she never left him."

You let Steve reveal as little or as much as he wants to. It just depends on the day.

The two of you watch out for the kids. You both go with them to visit Max in the hospital. You even initiate finding a way to get her to stay there while in a coma, thanks to enlisting the help of your uncle to help enlist the help of Dr. Owens. The kids love you for that.

Steve doesn’t love you… But he appreciates you.

A lot. He's beginning to find appreciation for you, for a lot of things.

Your uncle clocks the very niche tension between the two of you, now that you’re all under the same roof and he’s given no choice but to.

And damn, it makes him curious. He is, after all, the witch doctor of love…

Nevertheless, Murray takes his time choosing when to strike.

As you and Steve both help nurse Eddie back to health, and read to Max in her coma (which leads to both of you just simply talking), and make the kids laugh together, and even make conversation with Nancy and Jonathan (…it’s very double date ish) Murray watches his niece — and mannnnnn, is he amuuuuuused.

One night, you and Steve stay up to share some drinks with the adults. It’s the first time that the two of you actually make each other really laugh, heartily. The drinks help.

That’s sort of Murray’s plan. Vodka is, after all, the holy grail.

Even Eddie joins, along with Robin. But Steve sits next to you. Not his best friend, or the new friend he’s made in the metalhead. Nope, he sits his perfect, hunky ass that makes all the ladies drool right next to little ole you.

And damn, do you both laugh.

Murray’s never seen you laugh that hard with anyone in his life. He wonders if you’ve ever laughed that way at all.

And the way that Harrington looks at you? Especially when you’re not looking… Holy shit.

And the way you look at him the same way... makes Murray grin ear to ear like a mischievous kid with the plan to wreak havoc.

Hopper and Joyce are so settled into their relationship, and Jonathan seems to be winning back the love of Nancy. Eddie and Robin are so single it hurts, but it's legendary too. And you? Steve? Well, you guys are mortal enemies. And yet somehow, sitting here in the Harrington's living room with glasses of chilled vodka, belly-laughing over anything -- you and Steve exude more chemistry than all of them combined.

So when everyone goes to bed, and Murray catches you alone, he grills you. Not like the others. Nah, you’re family. He’ll cut you some slack.

…not much, though.

It sobers you right up.

"Do not tell me for one second that you don't think he's gorgeous," your uncle is saying in a low voice. You're both standing in his bedroom, having fetched him a tall glass of water which turned out just be a way to fucking lure you into his witchdoctor trap.

"I love you Uncle Murray. I really do. But this theory? -- is not one of your other bullseye's."

"Face it, kiddo," your uncle is smirking. "Your uncle's never wrong. You're just never the one on the other end of his lectures when he's making astute observations. You're always contributing to it. But this time? You're the leading lady, darling."

"False."

"You like Steve."

"Murray...!"

"You like Steve..."

You try to tell your uncle that everything he is saying is nonsense. Steve hates you. He absolutely hates you. Loathes and despises you, and plans to do so until you’re all particles of dust.

“Plus, he is so fucking annoying and whiny and entitled and has zero self respect unless it’s up against someone who calls him out for his shit,” you tell your uncle, gesturing to yourself on the last part. “Steve Harrington is a cocky guy who would just rather suffer in his own misery than ever see or lean into being this...this incredible man that he's...capable of being, the role model he has become to those kids, who love him, they love the human most deserving of being put first —”

.................

…oh fuck.

The silence is deafening. Murray’s smirk and all-knowing glare only adds to your being aware of what you just said to him, and admitted to yourself, out loud.

“Oh…oh so we do love Steve.”

Your uncle’s words are the cherry on top of the cake you just baked, and didn’t know you had the ingredients to make.

You don’t sleep that night.

***

The next morning, you and Steve both sit with Max.

"Wondering what she wrote in yours?"

Steve is nodding at the stack of letters on the bedside table. You all left them there, promising yourselves not to open them. Because she will wake up.

Lucas took it hard, Max dying. You'd been there to hold him, comfort him, along with Steve. You both watched him burst into tears numerous times, sometimes sobbing uncontrollably, despite the fact that she was somehow still here. It broke both your hearts, but you both got through it with him. Together.

And while the other kids were taking it hard too...so fucking hard...it was Steve who carried the most guilt. Remorse, anguish and guilt.

"I failed my kid," Steve had told you at the hospital once. You looked at him with a furrowed brow and concerned eyes.

"Steve, no you didn't."

His voice shook, eyes drowning in nightmarish thoughts. "I wasn't there for her. I wasn't -- wasn't..."

"You could never fail those kids. Not even if you tried."

He didn't believe you. But he wanted to. You had squeezed his hand that day, sitting in the waiting room. And to your surprise, not only did he let you...but he squeezed it back, letting your hands rest that way for an hour as you fell asleep in the seats before being woken up.

And now, sitting in one of his guest rooms while Max lay asleep in the coma still, you can see that guilt in him is spreading.

Steve is holding the letter that she gave to him, and you ask him if he’s wanting to read it.

Steve snorts. "God, you kidding? She'll wake up just to kill me before going right back to sleep."

You smirk, biting back a real laugh. “True.”

But Steve looks conflicted. He fiddles with the letter in his hands, wanting to tear it open. You know that he does.

“…want me to read it out loud to you instead? She can kill me in your place.”

Steve chuckles at that.

...but he doesn’t say no.

In fact, after biting his lip for a minute and thinking, he finds himself nodding. Yes. Please, read it to me, he’s thinking.

So you do.

You take the letter and read it to him. You read him the words that only a little sister could write to a big brother who she loves and wishes she will grow up to be like. You read him words that make him light up like a Christmas tree, yet cause him a painful ache deep within his bones. You read him a letter of love that no one ever took the time to write, let alone express, to him his entire life.

Steve fights tears. He bites them back, successfully. You’re the last person he ever wants to see him vulnerable. Hell, he can’t even see himself like that without judging his own self harshly. He can only imagine that you will, too.

He doesn’t know, though, that not only would you never judge him for that. But selfishly, you wish he would feel safe with you. Or God, someone at least. Just not Nancy. Someone who deserves him wholeheartedly.

"Steve," you speak softly.

He's staring into space, zoned out. But then, he finally looks over at you. He sees the kindness in him, and it almost takes his breath away. The way that you look at him...he just never thought you could...that you could --

"You're all of these things. Everything she wrote in this? You're all of it. And then some. You're the hero all those kids dream of being when they grow up. You're their favorite person. The one they trust, go to for everything. Even if you don't think that they do, they do."

He listens, unable to move. Speak. Breathe.

"You are...a great person, Steve Harrington."

***

That night, there’s a knock on your door. You’ve been given the guest room upstairs with no bunk mate. Unlike most of the people in the house. But given that Joyce and Hopper are together now, and El sleeps in Max’s room to keep watch, the four younger boys share a room with Eddie, Nancy is with Jonathan, Erica sleeps at her own house and Robin shares Steve’s room since she splits her time here and at home — you and Murray got the solo rooms.

Steve is now grateful for those sleeping arrangements tonight.

Because when you open the door, he’s on the other side. He looks sad, conflicted and lost. Like his mind is racing at a million miles an hour, yet can’t think of anything to say. He’s tongue tied, just staring at you expectantly…

What is he expecting?

“What’s wrong?” you ask. “Is it Max?”

Something about your question makes Steve brows pinch together. Like it’s suddenly confusing him even more. But he doesn’t speak.

You wait patiently. But truth be told, you are anxious as fuck. Because damn, he’s pretty. He is so stupid pretty. And fuck it’s annoying. His lips are just the right shape in a pout, and it’s really fucking annoy —

His lips are crashing into yours before you can even finish dissecting them.

Steve is kissing you like life depends on it. Gentle at first, but eager. Determined.

And when you both pulls back -- you don’t hesitate for more than a solid 2-3 seconds, your eyes shocked while his eyes silently ask, is this okay?

Your lips crashing back against his answers — yes.

Steve is a hurricane of both madness and all things serene in the ways that he touches your body. He explores your skin with his lips and hands, as if he has all the time in the world. The curve of your jaw and neck. The jut of your collarbones. The feel of your clavicle, which leads him to the shape of your tits and nipples. He cherishes your body, hungrily exploring it. It’s heated, hot and heavy. He licks a stripe down your abdomen to the waistband of your sweatpants. The way his brown irises look up at you, all round and doe eyed, makes the back of your throat groan with need. It’s not loud or brash, nor is it strained and quiet. It’s soft but certain. Steve melts at it, his fingers curling one by one around the band of your sweatpants, his eyes still asking — please?

You’re nodding without even having to hear a word out of him. And Steve pulls.

Euphoria is the feeling of Steve’s tongue exploring your folds. It’s the sound of him sighing into your portal in pure pleasure, and the way he sucks your clit with fervency yet flicks it with supple patience. His hands knead into your thighs, one of them reaching to squeeze your hips so that he can pull himself up to you and let you taste yourself on his tongue. He wraps an arm underneath your waist, hooking you to him, asking in the breathiest of whimpers, “Please let me, angel.”

He’s getting a fistful of your hair into one of his big hands, adoring the way that you squeak a yelp. You suck on his tongue, hard, and it’s enough to drive him mad. He pins himself against you, grinding. But you sit up, keeping your bodies glued together and now using your teeth to tug on his lip and paralyze him in pure ecstasy. You take the opportunity to slide your teeth and tongue down his jaw and neck, trailing pecks and kisses along the way, and the throaty whimper he lets out makes you see stars behind your hooded eyes as you drag your tongue down his chest. The wet stripe you’re leaving glides down to his toned abdomen’s bunny trail, and as you curl your fingers around his sweatpants, you pause… letting your lips press the most fluttery of kisses to each of his scars.

Steve can’t help the shudders, sighs and whimpers that escape his lips, along with your name. It’s raw, uncensored. He clutches your hand, which you extend up to him in a greedy grab as you slowly work his pants down with your other hand. You hook your fingers onto his chin, forcing him to let go of your hand in his and look down at you. He does, and it’s game over. You watch him and never break eye contact as you use both hands to push down his briefs…

…and thank God for that — because otherwise, you would see just what you’re up against as far as pleasuring him goes.

You feel the tip of his hard length tap your chin, and you scoot farther down into the mattress — on your knees like a perfect angel. Your tongue plays with its head, tasting the tang of his pre-cum, and Steve is shaking so hard he can’t stand it. He clenches his jaw, gritting out blissful curses through his teeth. “Fuck, baby, fuck.”

You take in the intense length of him, pleasuring him until he is touching the back of your throat and nearly gagging you senseless, and the mess he is up above you — it sends your mind into a tailspin. He has never looked so pretty, eyes squeezed shut except when he’s glancing back down at you with more fondness and adoration than you ever thought possible from not only a man who hates you…but any man at all.

And when Steve is just about to cum, he begins to beg. “P-please. Wait, please.”

His hands urgently cup your jaw, forcing you to look back up at him and cease your sickeningly perfect work. He pulls, and you follow. He drinks you in with his gaze, staring into your soul, as if he’s trying to figure you out. He stares and stares, his thumbs stroking your cheeks, his brown eyes searching yours like you are the most beautiful mystery he has ever needed to solve. He looks as though he might ask you something. Say something...

But he dives in to kiss you again before he lets himself.

His hand wraps around the bend of one of your knees, tugging it up so that he can hook your leg around his waist. Then he does it to the other. And before you know it, you’re straddling him.

“Fuck, Bauman, please,” Steve Harrington groans into your mouth. Then softer, murmuring against your lips as he kisses them endlessly, “please let me, please.”

And you know what he is asking. You know what he wants. You don’t have to even think twice. Lifting yourself up, lining him with your entrance, he stretches you out and the euphoric sting of it sucks the air right out of you. And Steve.

Steve is winded by the feeling of how tight your walls are, and by just how right it feels to be inside of you. You both fit. Like a perfect match.

At this point, you’re both a frenzy of fucking. You ride him – slow, hard, fast, all of it. Steve keens into your mouth, then your neck as he buries his face there — completely overwhelmed. You hold his head there, comfortingly and securely, and so fucking perfectly as your fingers tug at the ends of his perfect hair.

“I’ve got you, baby,” your voice shakes in a breathy whisper, just for him. “Let it all go.”

And Steve does. His fingers dig into the curve of your back, pulling you impossibly closer to him as he presses the loud growl of his climax into your bare shoulder. He releases himself into you, hot and loaded, and you drip just as much onto him as he just shot into you.

As if that wasn’t enough to send you reeling — enough to make you see angels and devils and god — it’s the way that Steve shudders against you, catching his breath…and then pulls back to look at you…that renders you speechless.

His hairline leaks sweat, his face beaded with it. His eyelids are hooded, the dark brown irises dazed and daring to meet your gaze. His lips are parted perfectly — and the way he looks up at you with his tousled hair, somehow still perfect after it’s been pulled and messed with, is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. Steve Harrington is so fucking beautiful. He’s an all-American boy, yet a Greek god.

The way that Steve gently brings your forehead to his, breathing against you, closing his eyes at the contact — you find yourself timidly nuzzling the tip of your nose to his. And you feel him smile against you, opening your eyes just enough to steal a peek — and that’s when you feel a deep ache in your heart and soul that might as well kill you.

Because now you realize. That is love.

Steve is love.

But you let it die inside of you tonight, not wanting to make this moment end any sooner than it has to. Instead, you let Steve entangle his limbs with yours, not daring to ask if he wants to stay. Because if you do, he’ll likely leave. He’ll realize that being in bed with you is the last place that he wants to be, and that he’s made a mistake. He’ll go back to hating you, more than he already does, and it will be the death of you. So instead, you just let it ride out however it’s supposed to.

You try not to count the minutes as Steve absentmindedly traces circles with his fingertips on your skin. Your hip bones, your shoulder blades, your spine. You tell yourself to forget that time and its limits exist as you stroke the hair at the nape of Steve’s neck, your temple against his forearm, his outer arm draped over you. You tell yourself that this is it. This is heaven. This is eternity. You tell yourself even if you wake up and it’s just a dream, you’ll remember it for as long as you live. Because on the other side of death is this, and it will never end.

You let that ease your mind as he presses his lips to your forehead and you no longer fight sleep.

So when you do wake up…and find that Steve is still there…you’re shocked. But you stay that way until he wakes. He looks at you in awestruck wonder. Not confusion or regret. Just…wonder.

He props himself up on an elbow, still looking at you, deep in thought. All you can do is stare back, wishing you knew what the hell he was thinking but not daring to ask. It wasn’t worth risking this. You stay that way for a little while.

He finally breathes a sigh, whispering, “Kids will be up soon.”

You give him a soft smile and gentle nod. You can already see Dustin waking up to go knock down Steve’s door, and that’s…not gonna end well if he finds out that Steve is walking out of your room instead.

Steve contemplates god-knows-what for another long moment before pressing a quick kiss into your hairline as he rises.

You watch him stand and dress himself, your heart throbbing at the way he looks in the early morning light streaming through the windows. His body is god-like. Tall, lean and athletic. His skin has the most beautiful constellation of moles that put the entire galaxy of stars to shame. And you ache at the thought of never being able to touch them again.

He gives you a soft grin after he throws his t-shirt back on, and before you know it he’s gone.

You lay there staring at nothing, feeling yourself leak a couple of silent tears and wondering why. You find yourself afraid to get up and face whatever new reality lies ahead of you on the other side of that door.

***

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tags: @erastourvip @xprloki @get0ut0fmyr00m @eddiemuns0nl0ver @marrowfrog00

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington stranger things #dustin henderson #murray bauman #enemies to lovers trope #they're in love your honor #Murray is a schemer #sorry stancy

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