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take my hand (joel miller x f!reader) chapter six



18+, MDNI series masterlist: here | please check this for complete series warnings and tags pairing: joel miller x f!reader chapter summary: your mind a mess of conflicting thoughts and feelings, you find solace in an unexpected person wc: 3.3k rating: this story is 18+ (minors, do not interact), there will be eventual smut in later chapters chapter warnings and tags: cursing and tlou lore accurate outbreak content below, maria and tommy family time, talk of feelings, angst-ish, fluff-ish, brief mentions of the loss of children, (there’s no joel in this one I’M SORRY), reader has no description besides she has hair, jackson!joel, age difference: reader is in her 30s and joel is in his 50s, sloooow burn a/n: a short, early surprise chapter :) ao3 | follow @writtenbynic and turn on notifications for chapters! dividers made by: @saradika-graphics , check them out!
previous chapter | next chapter (coming soon)
VI. UNDER PRESSURE
'Cause love's such an old-fashioned word And love dares you to care for The people on the (People on streets) edge of the night And love (People on streets) dares you to change our way of Caring about ourselves
Winter had come and gone, and you had figured that spending two winters in Jackson would get you used to the cold, but it did not. Somehow it felt more brutal than the last, as if the weather evolved each year as the infection would—a constant mutating monster that got worse as time went on.
With the spring, your plans to build that garden in your backyard were brought to life—Joel still being a part of that plan. You constantly reassured him he was not obligated to help, but you were always met with the same response. “I wanna help. Let me do this.”
Because, despite the seasons changing, Joel’s presence around you did not waver. He had kept good on his promise to fix that broken light in your house. And that one chance that he got to fix something inside your house only invited him to work on other things inside. You didn’t want to feel as if you were complaining—you appreciated the help and the company, and figured these were just things he had to do to keep himself busy when he had free time.
You just couldn’t shake some feeling inside you, a feeling you still couldn’t quite place. People’s comments on Joel being around you had burrowed under your skin and created a warm and unpleasant pit in your stomach, making you try to figure out why him being around you made you feel so odd all of a sudden. Why people noticing this makes you feel weird.
Regardless, the time you spent together in your home only grew as you would offer him meals or to stay for a drink after work was done. He never let you pay him directly for the help by doing something for him in return, but you still wanted to give him something to reciprocate his kindness.
“Don’t worry, darlin’. You don’t ever gotta owe me anythin’,” he’d say.
And, yeah. That word has still stuck around when he speaks to you—another thing that made you feel… warm. That pit in your stomach only started to grow until it ended up keeping you awake for longer than your usual anxiety kept you.
You couldn’t figure out what to do with it—how to fix it. The first place your mind went to was asking Tommy about it, leaning into the fact that he would know why Joel is like this more than anyone, but the idea of that didn’t sit right. It felt odd going to Tommy for something so personal that regards his brother, and you definitely couldn’t go to Ellie about it. So, that left you with one last person you thought could help.
You shuffle back and forth on your feet as you stand waiting for the front door to open after knocking. As a few seconds pass, your insecurity begins brewing. This was a stupid idea… What the fuck were you thinking?
Quickly, you decide that no one is probably home and turn to leave, when you hear a noise behind the door before it opens.
You twist your body back to face the door, one foot already backed up ready to leave. Maria stands there looking surprised, but not upset at your appearance before speaking your name, her voice lifting up at the end in question.
“Hey,” you breathe out, suddenly unsure of your decision to come here. “Is, uh—is Tommy home?”
She looks out behind you before saying, “No, I’m sorry, honey, you just missed him. He went out in town to get Benjamin some fresh air while I worked on some things at home. He should be back in an hour if you wanted to wait here?”
You shake your head gently. “Oh, no that’s alright. I actually, um… I wanted to talk to you on your own for a bit. Only if you aren’t too busy.”
Her eyebrows raise momentarily before a warm smile appears on her face. That’s why you wanted to come to her, you realize—her natural ability to make you feel safe.
“Not at all. I need a break from working on these damn blueprints,” Maria says before gesturing to you to come in. “Please, come in and make yourself comfortable.”
Maria steps aside a bit, allowing you the space to walk inside before she shuts the door softly behind you. A brief touch on your shoulder as she passes by indicates for you to begin following her into the living area, where you find papers laying out on the coffee table.
“Do you want me to make you any tea or coffee?” She offers.
“Tea, please,” you say with a grateful smile. She nods once before turning into the kitchen to make the drinks. Taking a second to look around while nervously fidgeting with your hands, your body gravitates to the fireplace mantle where a small chalkboard is placed in the center of the shelf. Written on the board are the names Kevin and Sarah, with the respective dates below it—the memorial of their lives.
Maria had spoken about her son before the outbreak, Kevin, and you of course knew of Sarah. You remember the first time you came here, you didn’t know about Joel’s daughter, and assumed the memorial was some family member to either Tommy or Maria, considering you never took a closer look at the dates out of respect. Now, knowing what you do, the sight of the board makes your heart ache.
You’ve been over here a few times before—enjoying dinners with the couple and their child, or coming over for small meetings with some other members of the community. You just couldn’t recall a time where you spoke only with Maria, let alone about matters that didn’t regard things in town.
The sound of the tea kettle whistling grabs your attention, and you walk into the kitchen to find Maria preparing the mugs for the two of you. Hearing your presence, she turns around briefly to smile at you, gesturing at the table for you to sit down.
“Make yourself at home. Sorry for the mess,” she says, referring to the array of blueprints and clipboards sprawled across the dining table, similar to the living room table. “We’ve been needing to build a lot more houses and space recently with all the newcomers. I thank God for marrying an ex-contractor, and getting my brother-in-law, even if he pisses me off most of the time.”
You chuckle softly at Maria’s teasing talk of Joel—the mention of him bringing a smile to your face without even thinking, before the same feeling in your gut warns again and you’re reminded of why you are here.
As you move to sit down at one of the seats, Maria brushes away some of the papers to make room for the two of you. She makes her way over to the fridge, asking, “Are you a milk or honey person with your tea?”
“Milk, please, and sugar if you have it.”
A soft nod can be seen from behind her as she pulls the milk jug and begins to prepare the tea for the two of you.
Rounding the table to set one down in front of your seat before settling herself in the chair across from you, she asks you, “Is everything okay? Is there an issue with your house or something with the work?”
You quickly settle her concern. “No, everything is perfect with that, thank you.” You look down to your mug, rubbing your fingers over the handle of it as your nerves take over more and that insecurity begins to build again.
God… Why does this feel so awkward?
“I actually—I wanted to talk to you about something a bit more… personal, I suppose.”
A slight look of shock fills her features before it gets overtaken with a more serious expression—Maria sitting up straighter in her chair and leaning her arms on the table to show you she’s paying attention. The sight calms you a bit as you recognize that same trusting, yet stern, look she had given you that first day in Jackson. “Of course, sweetheart. You can share anything you’d like, whenever you’re ready.”
Her reassurance washes over you, quieting the noise in your mind and calming the anxiety brewing in you. It’s the push you need before sighing and blurting it out.
“Why does Joel always spend time with me?”
Maria doesn’t react at first, before doing a double take, tilting her head towards you with confusion. “I’m sorry, what?”
You sigh before looking back down to your mug, tracing your fingers over the ridges from the floral design surrounding it, before all the words you’ve had trapped inside you just comes out.
“He, recently, is always at my house. He started doing it by saying that Ellie would tell him about things I need fixed at my house—stuff in my yard or front porch. But then, at the Christmas party, I told Ellie thanks for letting him know, and she said she didn’t bring anything up.”
You look down, frowning at the mug in your hand as you recall Ellie’s words. “She said that Joel would tell her about things he noticed regarding me. And a little before that night, people in town were whispering and giggling over Joel being around me a lot, saying that he’s always near. I didn’t believe that, but then when Ellie told me that stuff, I realized that he really does kinda just… show up? I mean I don’t think I’m bothered by it. Just that… I don’t know, it feels weird for some reason. And I didn’t know who to talk to about it because it felt weird to go to Tommy or Ellie with this, and you’re the only other person I think would know him the most. And… frankly, you’re someone I trust the most around here.”
Taking a deep breath after the end of your rambling, the trembling feeling that’s been growing in you for months seems to settle into an afterthought—as if voicing everything has brought you a sense of peace, even if briefly.
You look up to face Maria again, but the reaction you see isn’t one you were expecting. Her brows were completely shot up, eyes slightly wide and her lips parted open and twitching up a bit at the corners.
Great. She was laughing at you.
Filled with embarrassment, you shake your head and move to get up. “I’m sorry, this was dumb, I shouldn’t have—”
Maria straightens up and grabs your arm to keep you seated, shaking her head.“Sweetie, no, I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you. I promise.”
Still uneasy, you feel tense as you wait to see what she has to say, hesitantly lowering yourself back into your seat, bracing your mind for whatever words she has to say. Your body sinks into the chair, as if you want to burrow deep into the wood and away from this moment.
Maria slouches back into her seat almost comically and looks off to the side, softly huffing out a laugh before turning to look at you. “Joel—oh god, um… Joel, from what I know of him, struggles with showing people he cares.” She pauses to look at you, her eyebrows raised and head tilted in hopes that you understand what she’s trying to say.
You shake your head, feeling clueless. “I… I mean I knew that, but… what does that have to do with me?”
She smiles and sighs, closing her eyes briefly to formulate her words. “The only two people I’ve seen Joel be comfortable around are Tommy and Ellie. Even then, there’s this wall between him and them—thin, almost as if it’s through a veil. Something that slightly clouds the vulnerability between him and the ones closest to him.”
Maria frowns for a moment, but her face shifts into something resembling sympathy. “No one here in town has had a conversation longer than a few minutes with Joel before—me included. Our talks are strictly business or cordial. Now he knows I’m not the biggest fan of him and his… past, but I know when he does care because I see him with that little girl or my husband. Joel shows his love for those two by doing things for them or getting gifts he thinks that Ellie would like.”
You wait a moment for her to continue, but she just looks at you expectantly, as if you were meant to catch on by now. That was true, you suppose—you’ve seen Joel go out of his way to get things to make Ellie happy, or do things that contribute to the community simply because Tommy and Maria asked of him.
That was expected, though. He loves them—they’re his family.
Your thoughts leading you nowhere, you shake your head slowly at Maria in confusion until she reaches over to grab your hand. Cautiously, as if unsure how to speak to you, Maria asks, “Honey… have you ever liked someone?”
Your confusion only deepens as you try to piece together why she asked that. “Of course I have. I like many people here.”
Her lips quirk up again. “I mean, have you ever liked someone? Romantically?”
Oh.
Your eyes widen. No… this isn’t that.
She speaks up before your anxiety takes over completely, her hands held out in front of her cautiously as if trying to calm a wild animal. “There’s nothing wrong with that, I promise. I’m not saying that you necessarily have those feelings for Joel, but more so that I think he has feelings for you. I just don’t think he knows how to show it.”
You look back down to the mug in front of you, trying to focus on the swirling patterns the milk has made with the tea—trying to focus on anything to distract from whatever the fuck is running through your mind.
Maria speaks your name softly, making you force yourself to look at her. “When you said it makes you feel weird, is it like there’s butterflies in your stomach?” She asks.
“More like a blizzard.”
She lets out a laugh. “Oh I know that feeling all too well,” she says, before her face settles into a more serious expression. “I think you may like Joel in the same way that I think he likes you. You don’t need to do anything with that right now, though. If you aren’t sure what is going on then you do not need to rush and figure it out. I’m just offering what I think is happening and what it may mean.”
You take in her words and consider what you know about romantic feelings—a crush, as you have heard. She wasn’t wrong to ask if you ever felt something like that before, because… you haven’t. The state of life made the notion of a crush not be something that had ever crossed your mind. It was almost a fairytale. Something that always felt so out of reach—not something tangible to you. It makes sense that you wouldn’t recognize what the feeling was yourself, let alone know what it looked like on someone else.
You briefly recall some moments that happened when you had first arrived in Jackson, a few instances at the mess hall or bar where men had come up to talk to you. You had taken it as them being polite to newcomers, but the giggling and whispering from other women around had made you feel uneasy. Embarrassingly, the person who had to tell you what their real intentions were, was the damn teenager you had befriended.
“Dude. You’re hot. They’re flirting with you. Come on,” Ellie would say. The realization made you feel odd and caused you to avoid interacting with them for too long, coming up with an excuse to leave. It hadn’t happened for the past few months though, thank god—
Oh, fuck.
Your eyes widen as you realize something while sitting there processing what Maria had said. Those moments with the men in town had stopped a few months ago… when Joel and you had become friends.
He’s always near you.
Maria notices your expression and gives you a knowing smile. “I know, sweetheart. I’m sorry to have thrown this at you at once.”
Shaking your head, you tell her, “No this… this isn’t your fault. I mean, thank you, ya know, for telling me all this in the first place.”
Her hand soothingly rubs up and down your arm that plays on the table. “Of course. I hope you know you can come to me about anything like this whenever, okay?”
You subconsciously nod at her, your mind still reeling with all the thoughts racing through you as you try to piece everything together.
The sound of the front door opening pulls you away from your thoughts, causing you to straighten up and look more present.
You hear the sounds of a child giggling before you see Tommy appear in the doorway with Benjamin held on his hip. He looks at his wife with a smile before his gaze lands on you with a surprised expression. “Hey, m’sorry to barge in—didn’t know it was a girls day today.”
Maria laughs before standing up and collecting your two now-empty mugs, bringing them over to the kitchen counter. “No worries, honey. Seems like my mind was read by her because she gave me a much needed break,” you hear her voice travel as she walks.
You stand from your seat as you get ready to head out. “Yeah, sorry… I should’ve given you a heads up before coming over. I don’t mean to keep you too long while you’re busy.”
Walking back into the dining area, Maria shakes her head. “Believe me, you do not need to ever apologize for stopping by.” She gives you a pointed look, with understanding in her eyes. “You’re always more than welcome here. We appreciate the company, truly.”
Tommy gives you a nod as well, silently reaffirming the sincerity that Maria conveyed to you. You take a second to look at them in front of you—Tommy holding their son while looking at Maria lovingly. The ease they both share around each other. The home they’ve built together, both physically and emotionally.
It makes your throat tighten for a moment, taking in their words as they offer you the right to be a part of their lives so openly. It’s a feeling of comfort you haven’t had in a long time, and one you didn’t think you were deserving of—one you didn’t even think was possible for you in this lifetime. A fairytale.
Maria looks at you for confirmation that you believe her, you nod your head with a small smile—your eyes watery. “Thank you, Maria.” She returns your smile before offering for you to stay for a bit while Tommy makes dinner.
“No, thank you. I told myself I’d get some organizing done on my few days off, so I need to get back home to do that.”
She nods in understanding and walks you over to the door, stopping to hug Tommy and say your goodbyes to him and Benjamin on the way.
As you reach the door where Maria waits for you, you give her a hug as well when she leans in to whisper in your ear. “You tell me if you need anything in this situation—I happen to be sorta good at giving love advice.” She pulls away with a soft smirk before her face hardens, transitioning into one more serious.
“And just… be careful when it comes to him, alright?”
You pull away from her, the last thing she said confusing you for a moment as your eyebrows lightly twitching. Not mentioning it, you quietly thank her again for the advice and say goodbye to her before heading outside.
That word she had said before you left, love, ringing in your ears the whole walk home. With it, the idea of that fairytale begins to fill your mind and slip into your dreams.
a/n: surprise! wanted to post this short chapter before I post chapter seven this saturday, hope you guys enjoy <3
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#joel miller#joel miller fic#joel miller x reader#joel miller angst#joel miller fluff#joel miller smut#maria miller#maria tlou#tommy miller#tmh series
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ENHYPEN Series
sinag | psh.
chapter fourteen
pairings: park sunghoon x reader
synopsis: waiting for a great plot twist in your life, the ruthless and powerful mafia boss park sunghoon forced his way in to it.
word count: 3k
warnings: contains harrassment, violence, guns, killings, abuse, obsessive love & other stuff. if you can't take this stuff, feel free to scroll away. let me know if i missed some. (please be responsible and avoid fics that contains warnings that can trigger you.)
note: reblogs and replies are highly encouraged. i truly appreciate your messages to me. it keeps me going. please leave comments and tags when you reblog! thank you so much, stay safe and ily!
eeunoia 2025 © all rights reserved.
Days passed by quickly, but for you it was so long since you’ve seen something that isn’t owned by Park Sunghoon. He had kept you hostage inside his big fancy mansion.
After what happened in that restaurant, he hasn’t taken you outside again. Maybe it was for the best. Just thinking that you may cause someone’s life being taken with no mercy again, haunts you.
He’s also being careful around you. Still very strict and limits the things you can do, but tries to treat you more softer. You have no idea if that’s a good thing, but as long as you’re not causing anyone trouble, it was fine.
“How was Aelia?” that was the first thing Jake asked Sunghoon the moment he stepped foot inside his office.
The man’s furrowed brows indicates that there’s no progress with your relationship. Jake doesn’t even need to ask twice and there’s no need for Sunghoon to open his mouth.
“Was it you last night?” Jake asks again.
Sunghoon kept his eyes darted outside the big glass window of his office, staring at nowhere. Jake watched his friend silently. He thought he’s not going to respond, but he did.
“You said I need to be patient on her. Who do you think should receive my anger?” his eyes are stone cold, tone icy.
Jake sighed heavily and rest his back. He’s quite right about that. He had known him long enough to know that one of his was to let out steam is to go out killing people that messes with him.
“What’s your plan on her?”
“The same. But she’s surely testing my patience these days. I don’t think she’s afraid of me anymore.”
Jake pursed his lips, “Does she need to be afraid?”
Sunghoon sighs, “I would never hurt her. You know that.” and he looked at his friend.
“I know that.”
After a while, Jake decided to leave because he said he have some ‘important matter’ to deal with. Sunghoon almost scoffed right in front of his face. His friend is trying so hard to be sleak, but he knew that he’s trying to deal with that girl he met on that plane.
“Boss.” Sunghoon’s head lifted when Icarus entered his office.
He bows before proceeding on what he��s about to say. Sunghoon rests his back and just listen with a slightly occupied mind.
“I found where her parents live and also Mr. Sim gave me the address where she stays while working under your company.” he reported that made Sunghoon tilt his head over to the side.
“Let’s go visit her parents.” he decided and stood up.
Icarus nods his head and bows before waiting for him to leave the room first. Once the boss is out, his guards escorted him until he made it outside of the building and into his private parking lot.
He chose to ride one of his sports car as Icarus and the others follows him with their vehicles.
Since you’ve constantly informed Sunghoon about how it upsets you to leave your family and friends behind. He gave it a lot of thinking and realized that they must have been worried sick because you’ve been missing for almost a month.
Its not like he cares about them or their feelings. He cares about you and clearly, this affects you so much. If this can atleast make you feel better, he will do this. He doesn’t care if your family will hate him. All he thinks of is how he can support them as its what you’re main concern is.
Sunghoon couldn’t help but to smile a little, thinking how caring you are for your family. Just imagining you being like that towards him and your future family tugs every bit of his heart.
His car stops in front of a normal looking house by the edge of the town. Its located in a not so secure environment. His brows furrowed hardly, stressing out thinking that you used to live in this kind of place.
Icarus stands by the pathway towards the door. It seems like the neighborhood are filled with very curious people as they start to go out of their houses to check what’s going on.
Of course, they will be curious of it. Its not like everyday that multiple fancy vehicles parked on their street.
But once they got the view of Sunghoon coming out of his car, their faces turned pale and quickly tries to act as if they’re minding their own business.
He rolled his eyes and walked straight towards the door. He stood tall and proud while waiting. Icarus was the one who knocked on the door.
They waited for a few seconds before they heard a few shuffling sound from the other side of the door. A lady opened it, hairs have curlers while a cigarette placed between her lips.
Sunghoon’s brows creased at the sight of the mid-forties lady. His men are very certain when it comes to researching about people. He’s sure that they got it right and if he’s not mistaken, this lady in front of him is your mother.
“What do you want? Who are you people?” her rude tone almost made his brows raised. She’s so far from how you are.
“My boss wants to speak with you, Ma'am.” Icarus interrupted as he noticed how Sunghoon’s mood are slowly turning foul. He knew his boss very well.
“Why? I have no time!” she was about to close the door to them, but Icarus was fast enough to stop her. She seems pissed about it.
“Its about your daughter.” Sunghoon spoke and he saw how she seems very intimidated by how cold his tone was.
She quickly dismissed that emotion and replaced it in a much annoyed expression.
“What about her?! I don’t care about her! Why? Did she owe you some money?! Stop coming here because we won’t pay you anything!” her face was so red. Clearly letting him know how the two of you doesn’t have a good relation.
“That bitch is ungrateful! After we raised and feed her she will only give us a few amount of money every month?!” she huffed.
Sunghoon’s jaw clenched at what he heard. Even Icarus find it unbelievable that these words came out from someone you’re blood related to.
“Icarus...” Sunghoon called his attention while staring with piercing eyes towards your Mother.
“Boss?”
‘Get the gun and kill her.’ is what he wanted to say, but your face flashes through his mind. His heart burns in anger just by thinking how pure your heart is for still caring at such horrible people.
He let out a sigh, managing to calm down after remembering your face.
“Show her.” he commanded and with no hesitation, Icarus asked for the brief case that one of his men carries.
Your Mother was about to complain, but words got stuck on her throat at the sight of a stack of cash inside the briefcase. Her mouth gaps open, almost drooling. He almost scoffed at how pathetic she looks.
“A-Are you giving that t-to us, Sir?” now she’s polite.
“Yes.”
Her eyes sparkled and was about to stretch her arms, but Icarus closed it. Almost getting her hand caught in between.
“But I have conditions.” Sunghoon tilts his head and cocked at brow at her.
“Can we go inside and discuss it briefly?”
Your mother panicks to open the door widely for them. She couldn’t talk straightly and even calls someone out, informing them that they have visitors. He assumes its your bastard father.
“Who are these people? Why did you let them in our house, (Mom’s name)?” just like her, he seems unhappy because of them.
She was quick to shush him and even asked him to sit down at one of the sofas after offering Sunghoon the single sit. Icarus pat it clean that made your father’s brows furrow hardly. He’s thinking how arrogant this young man is.
“D-Do you want some water? We have tea!” your Mom offers.
Sunghoon shook his head, doesn’t really want to beat around the bush. He wants to leave already before he changes his mind and punish them both for how they treated you. He doesn’t need to hear the whole story of it. Just by how she talked about you a while ago was enough for him to put the pieces together.
“I don’t want to waste more of my time so I will be straight to the point.” he stated and tilted his head towards Icarus, commanding him to place the three briefcase filled with money over the counter table.
Your Father’s reaction was the same as your Mom’s. He seems like he completely forgot how he think of how such an asshole Sunghoon is. His eyes are totally focused on the money in front of them.
“I will give you this money. All of it...” he rests his back over the sofa, like a king claiming his throne.
“In exchange,” he starts that made them both look at him. Their desperate eyes tells him they will agree on everything he ask them to do.
“You will never look or bother your daughter ever again.”
“Did she do something stupid again?” your Mom asks a bit stingy.
He raised his brows. “You can have all of that, in return you will never come and see her at all cost. If someone asks you where she is, tell them she went somewhere far.”
Your Father, thristy of money nods his head and even stretches his hand to check if the money in front of them are legit. They are. Just then, he realized how big of a deal this young man is.
“Is she alive?” your Mom asked. Surprisingly, despite the hatred on her eyes, he noticed that she kept asking about you unlike your Father.
“That’s none of your business anymore.” Sunghoon said.
She stared at him and even before she can ask anything again, her husband spoke.
“Stop asking more questions! The important thing is we have all this money! We’re rich and she finally did something good.”
Sunghoon took everything in him to stop himself from punching your Father’s face hard until he’s knocked out.
He sighed and stood up. Your parents stood as well and bowed their heads. He went straight out from that house, making a promise inside his mind that he will not let these people mistreat you ever again.
“Where to, Boss?” Icarus asks while he heads towards his car.
“To the apartment Jake provided for her.” he said shortly. He was informed that your friend lives there with you. He wants to meet her as well.
A big part of Sunghoon wishes she’s way nicer than your parents. He’s seriously enraged thinking how awful this world is to an angel. He wants to start gunning everyone who wronged you but he knows that’s not the right thing to do. He’s winning you, as per his friends.
Its not a long drive actually, or he’s just really preoccupied during the whole ride to your apartment.
His eyes scanned the building and he realized it belongs to Jake. At least you are staying in a secured place, away from your parents.
Icarus and his body guard leaded him towards your floor and in front of the unit. They rang the doorbell with his signal and after a couple of minutes, the door opened.
A girl with a furrowed brows looked at the two of them like as if they both interrupted something very important.
“Who are you?” she asked Icarus seriously.
Sunghoon cocked a brow and already had a bad impression from her. How can she be this rude to people she’s just meeting for the first time?
“We’re looking for Lucie.” Icarus.
Now her eyes settled down on him as she raised a brow, “That’s me. What do you guys need?”
Icarus stared right through her eyes and normally, people starts feeling uneasy whenever he does that but for some reason this girl remains staring back. It makes him a bit… intrigued.
He snapped himself back to his senses and glances towards his boss.
“This is Park Sunghoon.” he indicates and he saw the instant horror over her face.
Now, that’s something Sunghoon enjoys seeing on people’s expression. He maintained the placid look on his face.
“May we come in? He wants to talk to you about something.”
“W-We can talk here.”
Sunghoon lets out a strained sigh, slowly getting impatient about all of this.
“It’s about Aelia.”
Now with the mention of your name, her face looked alarmed. It was obvious that it rings a bells. Her hand lets go from the door for the first time ever since she opens it for them. Her body that was hiding behind it, slowly appears over their eyes.
“A-Aelia? What about her?” she asked, tone sounding soft and longing.
For the very first time, Sunghoon saw someone who actually looks genuine to hear something from you.
Her worried expression vanished when he remained silent and she gave him this glares.
“What did you do to her?!” she accused and even stepped closer.
Icarus looked surprise at her actions. Not just she acts rudely towards them, but now shouts over Park Sunghoon despite knowing who he is.
If this is a normal situation, he would’ve take offense on what she just did. But since she seems like she cares for you, he ignores all of it.
“She’s all right.” once those words left his mouth, the look of relief showers over your friend’s face.
“Where is she? Is she with you?” she even tries to peak through the door to check if you’re there with them.
“No.” he shortly replied.
“Then where is she? And why are you here?”
He sighs, “Let’s talk inside.” he instruct and gave a look over Icarus.
He understands it right away and pushed the door open, a little enough to make your friend back away from it. She looks caught off guard and terrified, but still tries to keep his tough facade.
“Hey! Nobody allowed you to come here— Hey!” she says, obviously warry of what’s going to happen.
Sunghoon roams his eyes around the place. It looks neat and cozy. Something he would imagine how you will decorate your place. He felt something thugged in his heart and he slowly walks towards this side cabinet. His hand reaches for one of the frames where your picture is.
You looked so happy having that wide smile on your face. A part of him aches seeing you this happy. He has never seen you smile this big and genuinely ever since he had you.
He’s still spacing out while looking at your picture when a pair of hand grabbed it from him. Your friend glared over Sunghoon while hugging your picture like her life depends on it. His eyes dropped on it.
“Who said you can touch things inside our place?” she was fiesty, he would give that to her.
Sunghoon inhaled and tilt his head to the side.
“Icarus, give it to her.”
His assistant nods his head before motioning one of his other men to take the money he prepared for her.
Your friend looked confused as she waits for his return. Sunghoon kept staring at her, like trying to read her over her facial reactions.
When Icarus came back holding a briefcase filled with money, he saw how her eyes locked on it for a few seconds. He was expecting her to feel relaxed or have the slightest hint that she’s letting her guard down, but instead she gave him a bashful look.
“What’s this?” she asked and kept staring.
Sunghoon kept silent, analyzing that look on your friend’s face.
“This is money for—”
She loudly scoffed before crossing her arms, “Are you bribing me?”
Sunghoon’s brows twitched, irritated when she interrupted him while he’s saying something.
“Listen, Mr. Park.” she starts.
“I know who are you and all the bad things you’re doing. Yes, you have all the money and resources, but you cannot bribe me with money just to keep me quiet!”
Sunghoon tilts his head as he let out a strained sigh and shutting his eyes close for a while. This is surely draining his energy. Your friend is a bit handful, her personality if he’s being more accurate. He’s starting to wonder how on earth did someone as sweet as you managed to be friends with someone as loud as her?
“I am not bribing you.” he objected.
Your friend’s lips pursed, a bit embarrassed. Regardless, she tries hard not to show it on her face.
“That’s my way of taking care of the things Aelia left behind. Seeing you react like this, I assume your relationship with her is tight. She’ll hate it if she learned that I didn’t took care of you.” he deadpans.
Your friend stays silent for a bit while before she gasps loudly while pointing towards Sunghoon.
“Oh my god! Are you her sugar daddy?!” the sincere shock on her face made Sunghoon confused on what to feel.
In the end, he grimaced then turned his back at her. Now, he is kind of worried because he realized you have a crack head as a roommate.
“I’ll be leaving.”
“Wait! But where is she? Hey!” and her voice got muffled as she was left behind while Sunghoon head straight outside.
“She did what?!” Riki laughed as loud as he can while holding his stomach, hands slamming over to the conference table.
Sunghoon stared at him with slight glare while his two other friends are laughing with the youngest one.
“Wow, she is a character.” Jake commented.
“Sugar daddy—HAHAHAHAHAH” Riki continued laughing that made Jay throw a ballpen at his direction.
“Get over it idiot.” Jay, but he must admit he almost shed tears laughing about it too.
“Fuck you, Nishimura.” Sunghoon said while cleching his jaw.
“But are you that old to be a sugar daddy already? Damn.” Ni-ki asked while still trying to get ahold of himself.
Jake rolls his eyes while still smirking.
“At least you know Aelia had one person who is good to her.” Jake states.
“Yeah, her parents are just trash.” Ni-ki.
“Speaking of which. Riki’s men saw them entering casinos day after day ever since you gave them money a week ago.”
Sunghoon shrugs his shoulder off. “I don’t fucking care what they’re up to. As long as they don’t bother us.”
“What if they ask more money?”
“They’ll have a gunshot instead.”
Jay laughed. “Damn, you’re a bit scary.” he said sarcastically.
“Anyway, have you thought about what I suggested you to do?” Jake diverted the topic.
Sunghoon glanced at him and sighed while he plays over the pen that was on the table.
“Do you think it will help her?”
Jake smiles, “More like it’ll help you to gain her trust.”
Sunghoon lets out a sigh and just nodded his head shortly. Jake smiled wider before he started discussing their meeting about a transaction he just sealed.
After the meeting with his friends, Sunghoon headed straight home. He’s so tired and he knew all he needed is to see you. It’s been a week already and although he can see that you’re not that stubborn anymore, you’re still so resisting him.
“You didn’t eat again?” he asks while eyeing the untouched food beside your bed.
You developed the habit of not looking at him and its seriously pissing him off.
He sighs and slowly walked towards your bed. You remained unbothered and didn’t even moved. Now, that’s one of the things that changed. Before you would be scurrying yourself to be pressed on the headboard of the bed, you don’t do that anymore.
“Here.” he placed a paper on top of your bedsheet.
Your head craned to look at it and for the first time, you two met eyes. The familiar shivering of your spine are still there.
“What’s that?”
“Open it.” he instructed.
You looked hesitant. The last time he had you opened something, your whole life crashes down. Feeling a bit traumatized about it, you remained staring at him and not touching that paper.
He lets out a sigh.
“It’s a reward. Since I heard you’ve been behaving these past few days.” he says.
“What kind of reward?” you still sound suspicious.
Sunghoon lets out a big sigh, “It’s from Lucie.”
Your eyes grew big and in a speed of lightning, you reached for that paper. A ghost of smile made it to his lips because of your reaction.
“And before you ask, she’s all right. I didn’t do something bad towards her.” he turned his back and left the room.
A small grin appears to his lips after making it outside your room. Seems like Jake’s suggestion worked.
permanent tag-list:
@rubyanne @map-of-border @hwangjangmi @13tter @candewlsy @simpforniki @classicroyalty @hime98 @moonsclassyslore @ddeonubaby @yeoungie @acciomylove @mymeloem19 @jvngw0n @dreamjerky @minamoons @clar-iii @herasalvatore @nyfwyeonjun @rcveribin @yizhoutv @one16core @soobin-chois @kyutiepeachy @chareadingpurposes @hwalllllllelujah @solelyenha @90sni-ki @nourhan-8 @nikipedia07 @yangbreads @drunkjazed @axartia @all4haru @sta-rie @purplepuppychild @iceeee @wtfhyuck @tobiosbbyghorl @nikililmj @ayayiiie @aeyeree @heeseung-min @in-somnias-world @psh-pjh @hveanlyanqelic @dimplewonie @firstclassjaylee @nics-fxy
#enhypen#enhypen imagines#enhypen yandere#enhypen sunghoon yandere#enhypen sunghoon imagines#enhypen sunghoon x reader#eeunoiaverse#eeunoiawrites
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✯
nasir let the silence linger a moment, letting tion’s words soak through the cracks in his defences. the crackle of fire filled the space between them, the soft hiss of wood breaking down to embers. he leaned further into his chair, his goblet warm in hand, and the corners of his mouth twitched, more in thought than mirth. for a man who’d spent a life mastering silence, mastering the mask, it was strange how easily he let it slip around tion. how little he had to perform. he would be forever grateful for it; even if there were moments when one said something which would cause the other to scoff.
“aye,” he murmured, voice low and slow, like a stone rolling over riverbed. “you’re right. i won’t let myself.” his eyes didn’t lift from the hearth, but his mind was far from it now; still, when his eyes did break from the crackling flames of the hearth, he moved to look directly into the gaze of tion peake - and it was enough to cause him a grin slightly. forever unable to keep a straight face, even in their years of adulthood that had honestly begun to feel as though they were merely old men.
“i’ve carried worse things on my back and called them armour. what’s another sin, really, but more weight to bear?” he took a sip, the drink sharp against his tongue, burning the back of his throat in a way he welcomed.
“i know he’s luckier than most. i do. luckier than i was, in some ways. and he’s got you, which is more than most boys like him can say.” a beat passed. “but that doesn’t make it right. try to talk me out of it all you want, it is fact at the end of the day." the words hung there, raw and unguarded, and for once, he didn’t pull them back in. he let them sit there in the comfort that was sharing a space with tion peake. he let them exist, weighty and exposed. nasir finally turned his head then, casting a glance toward tion—not the usual sharp-eyed look of a man ready to deflect, but something wearier, older, open in a way he rarely allowed.
“you’ve never asked me to explain it,” he said, quieter now, “and i'm bloody grateful for that.” the warmth returned to his voice then, a bit of that old swagger as he lifted his goblet again in a mock-toast. “and i’ll find you a white woman or two, don’t worry. plenty in the north, as long as you're fine with furs." he knew it would be rare that tion peake would actually go for marrying anybody from the north; no, he knew what marriage was in his mind. benefit, and there was only a small number of candidates that would be able to benefit an already wealthy lord. he sank deeper into the chair, letting the conversation settle like dust on the floor. they’d circled this ground too many times, and they both knew no more would come of it tonight.
end of thread.
tion knew nasir well enough to know that his mind was set on condemnation, that no amount of reassurance could shift it. his mind was on his own father then, how he had taken his secrets nearly to his grave, only choosing to unburden himself on tion in his final moments. he did not know if the late lord peake had ever stared into the flames like this, ruminating over his choices with those he trusted most, as he did not know if this was something nasir could hold in as long as tion's father had.
"you could outrun it, if you wanted to," tion said at last, drumming his fingers on the arm of his chair. "men do it every day. they wash their hands of the past and pretend it never belonged to them." he spoke matter-of-factly, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. perhaps to some, it was. "but you won't," tion continued. "you won't let yourself."
he leaned forward then, resting forearms on his knees and setting his empty goblet to the side upon a mahogany end table. "so you sit there drinking yourself into a misery over it, thinking that you failed him, failed yourself, and failed everyone that's ever met you. like that isn't more than most do over their baseborn children." that was something he would not let nasir deny. zakariya was not the only child sired in the belly of a battlefield whore during the dance, but he had certainly had more luck in life than most of them. he huffed a laugh. "so i say it again. you're too hard on yourself. you think a boy's only got one path to manhood? that if you aren't there, he's doomed?"
he shook his head, lifting one hand in a dismissive gesture. "he might not have your name, nor have you claimed him. but he has you in his blood and his bones. he is cared for. house peake will stand behind him, regardless of what name he carries. you not being there - it's not right, i'll grant you that, but it is not the end of the world for him. silence was the coward's choice when he was a babe. i no longer think it is now."
and yet it seemed that here, they would need to agree to disagree. if nasir's peace could not be made, then conversations about zakariya would always be like this, an endless circle of regret and reflection. "i haven't denied amir's suspicions," he admitted. "haven't confirmed them, either. i thought it best to let them linger." tion cleared his throat, eager to seize upon the change of topic, one corner of his mouth raised in a smirk. "true. but white women look for white husbands," he pointed out with a laugh, a sound that reverberated rich and deep in his chest.
but it was deeper than that. tion's expression shifted into something more contemplative. "ah, you know me, brother," he said, his tone more resigned. "and gods, i know myself. it would take a rare woman to keep me from looking over my shoulder for something else. and then i'll be sending you my bastards to keep." it were a joke, but a poor one. "if such a woman exists, i've yet to meet her. so until then, the pair of us are in the same boat."
#c: tion#tion 001#i think we can wrap this thread up now! i've left it open incase you want to reply one more time#we loooove baby mama tion#queue
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oooo i love when you read/watch/play something and wake up sick with emotion the next morning
#so many quotes are running through my mind its unreal#i feel paralyzed like i dont know what to do with myself orz orz orz#i dont think ive ever read anything with that atmosphere before victor hugo what the fuck man#i think reading it so late at night makes my memory of it feel even stranger like :(#in a way i always enjoy it when a story really affects me but i dont wanna go into a 5 day depression again 😵💫😵💫😵💫😵💫😵💫#but i also know its the first time ive read it blind and ill never get to experience that again so im 👍👍👍👍👍 (lays down on the floor)#i like how i havent even finished the book yet so this isnt even including the 'oh my god the entire thing is over this 1300 page book ive#spent 9 months of my life getting through is OVER'#doing marius type [staring into the distance]#i dont know if i need to keep reading or keep away from it today#im a bit worried about exposing myself to this one page so much in trying to analyze it (cause it feels surprisingly a bit open ended?) th#at i like cant read it anymore with a novel and fresh pov so i get stuck in 1 train of thought#despite constantly complaining about seeing lines in advance i feel a bit like i would have wanted to know a tiiiiny bit more because some#of these lines/details were so upsetting and surprising i have WAY too much to process now#i hope honeyheadbanger didnt open the tags. this is about the final ~8 pages of the barricade#i should make a less vague post when we're at the same part#i have one thing left to say: Enjolras........#appelflap.txt
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i’m in such disbelief right now and beyond disgusted.
i really hope y’all are choosing your morals over kpop; because we do not know these men at all. i will never side with or defend a predator and a criminal, even with little to no proof. even if there is the smallest chance he may be innocent, i will always believe the victim first.
some of you, as fans of the boys for years and him in general, i know you must be feeling disappointed and betrayed. you’re not dumb for previously supporting him, as we couldn’t have possibly known. but now is the time for a reality check and it’s time to wake up and take a step back. this just goes to show that we know absolutely nothing about them.
for sm to just outright put out a statement on their own before any rumors even surfaced and immediately kick him out? this has to be insanely serious and i’m terrified of what he could’ve done. the crazy thing is with everything currently happening in korea with the telegram situation, and korean women constantly being in danger in general because of the men there, i’m not at all surprised that celebrities are being exposed. sm has protected criminals before, and held onto lucas when his scandal came out as well as other artists who have been exposed for similar crimes. i can’t even imagine the severity of the current situation. we’ve seen what happened with the burning sun, and these men are not immune to being misogynistic, vile human beings.
members have already unfollowed him and deleted posts with him in them; his best friend of 17yrs has unfollowed him. the company taking the initiative and him getting kicked out of the group in less than a second before anything even came out, no denying the claims or even trying to defend him. that should be enough to tell you and understand how serious this actually is. i am beyond disgusted with him and this whole situation.
i sincerely hope the victim is doing okay and praying for them to heal and get the justice they deserve. and remember that your love for these celebrities should always be conditional, because we do not know them. it’s their job to put on a show and show you their public persona, but behind closed doors? we don’t know what they’re actually like. we put them on a pedestal and yet we don’t know what they’re really capable of. they are still men after all. i hope the police are taking this seriously. there needs to be consequences and these women need to be protected.
let this be a lesson to all of us. they don’t know us, and we don’t know them, not really, not at all.
ALWAYS choose morals over these strangers you idolize. and as women, we should be standing with the victims.
maybe not all men, but enough of them. and maybe not all men, but somehow always a man. and going forward, i will continue to support nct as a whole with the remaining members. however, keeping the situation in mind, i will be supporting from afar for a little while. if the situation escalates and other members are investigated and new information comes to light about the rest of them either knowing or possibly being involved, it would be best to step away for good. i will do my best to stay updated. but i do hope the rest of the members are doing okay, and hopefully no other members were involved; but this, just shows that they can always surprise us. you never think it’ll be your fave, until it is.
let’s hope this causes a domino effect and more of these people are exposed and charged for the crimes they’re committing.
sending love to anyone who has ever experienced sexual violence or has been targeted and been in a similar situation. it is not your fault and it never was!
love you all and my dms are always open if you need to vent. <3
❗️EDIT: also i wanna add that we need to not praise the rest of the members or any other celebrity for simply unfollowing him on social media. that is the least of anyone’s worries.
we don’t know if they were aware, we don’t know if they knew and were protecting him or turning a blind eye. it could be them trying to save themselves and clear their guilty conscience. maybe they didn’t know and are just as shocked as we are, we don’t know that either.
we blindly trust these people and believe they have good intentions but look at where that can lead to. fans being upset is valid, yes; but remember people with money and power will do whatever it takes to sweep things under the rug and make it go away in order to save face and keep their image and reputation.
follow-up post here.
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Setting aside the age old “A lot of women are doing it must be silly or bad” trend of a newish medium that happens with literally anything I do take issue with the idea that recommendations on booktok are somehow worse than recommendations in literally any other space?Recommendations are going to be a mixed bag regardless, taste is subjective in all things.
I just hate the “this is on this platform so it must be bad or low quality by default” mindset. There could be amazing works of literature on WattPad, I dunno, I don’t use it but I do know that there are INCREDIBLE MASTERPIECES on Ao3 that no one ever talks about and then some truly heinously written things that might as well be a daily trending for how often I see them touted. I’ve read some slop I put down after two paragraphs on Kindle Unlimited and some stuff that made me reconsider my entire life it was so good.
I’ve had really close friends I vibe with on every level tell me “you have to read this it’s amazing” and been like “do I even know this person anymore? Do they know me? This is awful” when I do and I’m sure I’ve gushed over something and they’ve checked it out and been like “WTF is she thinking?”
There is going to be garbage in every space, there is going to be treasure, there are going to be things that we’re just posted for a laugh or as a money grab, or written by AI, etc. Just broad sweeping generalizations hurt communities, and authors, and readers though. It makes people feel bad for no reason. You might also miss out on something really special. “Oh it was recommended by booktok it must be awful” or “oh it’s posted on wattpad it must be written by a 13 year old” and really it’s what you’ve been looking for your whole life you just missed out.
I just want people to create things and consume things and find what they like without generalizations or assumptions that Y thing is garbage because it’s on Y platform or was recommended by Y community and Z thing is probably good because it’s on this platform or is traditionally published or is a NYT Bestseller or whatever. It just bums me out that things get written off simply because of something arbitrary like being mentioned in a certain space or hosted on a certain platform.
A good take away though: You might think what you create is garbage but as we can clearly see there are people who love other people’s garbage, so post your garbage because it’s treasure to someone out there.
there’s absolutely something to be said about ‘booktok’ books being largely wattpad quality written erotica i’m certainly not reading them however having seen a guy on tiktok make a video like ‘all the women in your life are READING PORN’ about a book he picked up and read in his FEMALE FRIEND’S HOUSE in a tone of scandalised horror and disgust i actually don’t think men should be making those criticisms. he said he picked it up expecting a romance and was horrified it was GOONER SHIT he said specifically like ‘who are you getting your pussy wet FOR??’ in a tone of revulsion. idk man im not sure shes the weird one. i kind of wish you were dead
#I’m all about curation or trusted sources#but I do try to keep an open mind cause I never know#this kindle unlimited book with the sexy man stock photo and the terrible font could be the greatest novel ever written#who am i to say#I just gotta read it and find out#you know pretty early on if it’s not for you
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This idea has been stick in my head but I don’t got the skills to execute it.
Rafe dating a reader he calls “Angel” bc despite growing up with Rafe reader somehow has never done half of the crazy shit Rafe did. So reader is quite literally one of the few good thing going for him.
Until *dundundun*
Someone at a party convinces reader to try some drugs (Rafe as the controlling bastard he is, though that’s a good? thing in this case, doesn’t let reader do anything that isn’t weed) because Rafe must get tired of being around someone innocent. But when Rafe finds out what’s been done he’s rightfully pissed that someone tried to taint his angel.
warnings: childhood friends to lovers, drug use, peer pressure, coercion, manipulation, slight angst, crying, fighting, rafe is very overprotective, a little bit of rough handling, reader is described to be innocent and kind of sheltered, light fluff, reader freaks out when she realizes she’s high, reassurance + comfort
wc: 1.3k
‘innocent little y/n’— that’s what everyone called you when you were growing up. you never lied, you never stole, you were actually a tattletale and everyone hated you for it. because of that, no one ever wanted to be your friend, all except for rafe who had no idea why he felt the overwhelming need to protect you and keep you tucked into his side where you were ‘safe and sound’ from anyone who wanted to tease or be mean to you. it was rather easy since you found yourself following him around everywhere anyways.
your dynamic changed when you two got older and he had another threat to worry about that he didn’t have once before; and that was boys. he remembered hearing some of his friends talk about you in a way that had him throwing punches and getting suspended. once ward threatened him with military school on the mainland, he decided that the only way people with ulterior motives and sick and twisted minds would back off was if he stook his claim on you and let everyone know that you were his. and of course.. it worked.
no one knew how on god’s green earth you two ended up together. rafe was a hothead with a drug habit to match, and you were just there; oblivious to it all. you didn’t know anything about rafe’s little problem since he never did any lines or took rips from a bong in front of you. except for one time when he unintentionally got you high when you two were boxed in his truck and he decided to smoke since ward was on his ass and he needed it. he didn’t snap until he looked over at you and saw you spaced out, your eyes red and glossy as you played with the ends of your hair.
rafe was quick to throw out his joint before fanning the air and rolling down the windows. for the next hour he had to deal with your nonstop giggling and even went as far as getting you snacks from the food mart in a poor attempt to shut you up. “would you quit it already?!” he scolded you every time you tried to feed him whatever sweet you had in between your fingers. rafe vowed from that night forward that weed was the only thing he’d ever let you get high on. fortunately, he never smoked in front of you again and didn’t have to worry about that problem— until now.
“do you really think rafe wants to be with someone who’s boring? a little bit of blow isn’t the end of the world, angel.” topper scooted closer to you on the couch, making sure to throw in the nickname rafe has had for you since you were kids. “i’m not boring..” you crossed your arms over your chest once you saw the way topper eyed your cleavage, your eyes searching the room for any sign of rafe. “you sure about that? why do you think rafe never does his shit in front of you? it’s cause you’re a fucking buzz kill.” topper opened up the tiny baggy of powder, a smug grin spreading across his lips once he saw you peer down in curiosity.
“rafe is a pretty crazy dude, wouldn’t he want a break from all of this ‘innocent’ shit? i bet you he’s no where to be found right now because he’s talking to another girl who actually knows how to have a good time.” he scoffed, his words making your eyes water. “just try it, baby, i think rafe would love to see you bouncing off of the walls for once,” topper opened the baggy, scooping some of the substance up with his pinky, “and you wanna know something else? this shit makes you go all fucking night long. rafe would definitely appreciate that..” you eyed topper’s hand as he brought it up to your eye level.
“i don’t know—” you backed away slightly before his fingertips were nudging your lips. “yes you do know, just snort it, come on,” you kept moving away until your back hit the armrest of the couch. topper had his pinky directly under your nostril, a sense of panic flooding your system as you attempted to turn your face away. topper only followed, cursing a ‘just fucking snort it already!’ before you succumbed and gave the substance the lightest sniff you could muster. in seconds, you screwed your eyes shut tight, the crunching sound of bone meeting bone making you yelp once you realized rafe’s fist planted into the side of topper’s face.
topper was immediately rendered unconscious, the partygoers nearby all gasping in unison. rafe grabbed your face, inspecting you quickly before he spotted the coke residue on the tip of your nose. “that sorry motherfucker..” he gritted his teeth, his vision growing blind with white hot anger. despite topper’s unconscious state, rafe still punched him until he drew blood, kelce, along with some of his other friends stepping in before things could get worse. “he’s down already bro, that’s enough!” kelce shouted, your boyfriend swatting away all of their hands until they were able to get him off.
getting out of their grip, rafe wasted no time in dragging you up by your arm, your legs shaking as he lead you two out of the crowded house and to his truck. “let me see you.” he pulled out his phone, flashing the light on your face. your pupils were blown to shit, your teeth clattering as you shivered in the chilly night air. “fuck, baby..” he felt guilty beyond words for thinking stepping away to get another drink— even if it was for a quick second, that leaving you alone was a good idea. “rafe, my heart is beating really fast!” you cried, grabbing his hand and placing it over your chest as your face twisted in horror.
“i know, i know, just try to stay calm, angel.” he placed you in the passenger seat, clicking your seatbelt in place before rushing around and peeling off in the direction of home. you were sweating now and panting as if you had just ran a marathon. rafe felt utterly helpless, the scared look etched into your usual soft and happy features made his gut wrench. he swore he would never do a line again even if his tolerance was already up there from years of experience. he hated seeing you like this. “he wouldn’t stop getting close to me, i didn’t know what else to do!” your leg was bouncing, your fingertips itching to move in anyway you could.
“don’t worry, we’re almost home.” he reassured you, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to your knuckles before you could panic any further. once you two were in the driveway, rafe rushed you both inside, quickly starting a cold shower and cleaning you up. neither of you went to sleep until your high subsided a few hours later. during that time, rafe made you push down a lot of water along with eating something so you weren’t on an empty stomach. “everything is okay, alright?” rafe held you in his arms, a small hum sounding from your lips before you drifted off into a much needed slumber.
rafe watched you sleep and he couldn’t help but think of everything after this incident occurred. you were the only person in his life that wasn’t tainted in any way. the only good thing he had going for him. he couldn’t handle the thought of topper forcing his way over you and you sitting there helplessly, hoping he’d turn up soon. the thought made his fists clench again as he recalled the confused yet relieved look on your face once he was in your view. he made a promise to never leave you alone like that ever again.
gone were the days of attending pointless parties..
#❤︎₊ ⊹ works#₊˚⊹♡ rafe#outer banks#outer banks smut#outer banks imagine#outer banks x reader#outer banks fanfiction#rafe outer banks#obx#rafe obx#obx smut#obx imagine#obx fanfiction#obx x you#obx x reader#rafe cameron#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron prompt#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron imagine#rafe fluff#rafe x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe smut#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#drew starkey
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idk just thinking about seeing your lieutenant for the first time, this big giant dog of a man, and thinking to yourself, "hmmm yeah, i'm gonna make that thing mine." (18+)
like. i'm thinking about seeing him walk into the room for the first time. fresh off an op, still in all his gear. he's angry cause he's been awake off and on for 40 hours at this point, and he sinks down into a chair in the mess hall, and your eyes bug cause the chair fucking bends with his weight.
and you're just like "omg omg omg holy shit" cause this fucking brute is just huge and beefy, and you had no idea this was your type until you watched his hand curl around a cup and make it look miniature. and you're wondering like "fuck i bet those holsters are custom made" cause you don't think you've ever seen them stretch that far around someone's thigh.
ughghghghgh, and he's dumb as shit, too, or maybe he's just fucking blind. you give him every hint in the book, every indication of how you feel other than pasting a giant neon sign on your forehead that says "fuck me."
you wear the tightest cargo pants you can get. you let the buttons on your shirts go low whenever he's near. you make excuses to see him late, delivering him paperwork in the middle of the night, meeting him out for a smoke (and he's never seen you smoke anything), shuffling your way in front of him in line so you can bump into him and graze your ass against his front. he even catches you this way--even curls his hand around your waist and steadies you before letting you go impatiently.
fuck, bending over in front of him, the obnoxious giggling, the excuses to dangle your tits in his face. you want this man underneath you, on top of you, tangled around you and suffocating you with those enormous arms, and he barely side-glances at you whenever you're in his vicinity, and it's infuriating.
what do you have to do to reel this thing in? how many bones do you have to give him?
how many times do i have to flash my bra at you for you to fuck me over your desk?!
you can't eat another cherry in front of him. you can't drop more sauce onto your cleavage. you cannot come out of the showers in just a towel in front of him anymore because you're going to lose your fucking mind--
you even made out with his beloved little sergeant, his favorite little know-it-all that can't stop blowing shit up. that blue-eyed, insufferable, yapper of a scot that kisses all wet, with teeth, who pants like a puppy when he asks if he can 'ave a taste of y'r bonnie cunt, please, please, please--
and you say yes, because maybe he'll finally fucking shut up if you drown him between your thighs and never let him come up for air.
face down, ass up, cargos around your ankles, hips pushing past against that puppy's stubble as he devours you on his knees. his big hands spread your ass for him, and his thumbs flick over your folds as he opens you up, a cackle leaving him before he opens his mouth wide and kisses your pussy all sloppy and uncoordinated.
when the door swings open and hits the wall with a bang, the puppy tries to leave. he tries to move, but you reach back and grip his mohawk, scowling as you shove his face back where it belongs as your lieutenant stands at the door and heaves with anger.
"uh uh," you snap, and your sergeant on his knees whines, his blue eyes a little foggy and wet as he blinks up at you. but he complies, his tongue slurping, and you flutter your lashes at your lieutenant as you keep johnny muzzled in your cunt. "sorry, lieutenant. is this your office? must've read the sign wrong."
you reel from the contact. a big hand grips you by the hair, slamming you down against his desk, and you choke as you try and gasp for air. like a good boy, johnny settles where he is, shoving his tongue down your hole and moaning low when he realizes you're dripping down his chin now that his lieutenant has you.
"y'think this is funny, eh?" ghost mutters in your ear. "y'think i don't know wot y'r doin'? think i 'aven't caught on, think i 'aven't noticed wot a fuckin' insatiable bloody pain in my arse you've been ever since y'got 'ere?!"
you whimper, relaxing against the desk, and ghost tugs at your hair again, shaking his head.
"oi! y'don't get to be stupid just because y'r gettin' y'r cunny played with," ghost snaps. "y'r a right headache."
you laugh, getting up to your elbows, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as ghost scruffs johnny by the base of his mohawk and cups your pussy with one big hand. you gasp, leaning your head back, because finally, yes, it's all i want, please, please, please--
"'f you wanted to be my pet so bad," ghost murmurs, fitting himself behind you, leaning over your shoulder as he spits into your ear, "all ya had to do was fuckin' ask, swee'eart."
when your eyes open, ghost hums, clicking his tongue under the mask.
"use y'r words," he growls. "be a good girl, and say wot it is y'want."
"want you," you whine, and he sighs deeply, closing his eyes, and you drown out the sounds of johnny sputtering at your feet as ghost bends you at the hip a little more, arching your back.
"mmm...tha'sit. was tha' so hard?"
#idk what this is#but i saw a pic of ghost and i had to be gross about him for a couple hundred words sorry#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost mw2#ghost cod#ghost call of duty#ghost mwii#ghost x reader#cod#call of duty#simon riley smut#simon ghost riley smut#simon thoughts#ghoap x reader
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Busted! (Secret Relationship) 2.0





what if the two of you are in a secret relantionship and suddenly everyone start to realize something is going on?
gn!reader
characters: luffy, sabo, kid, shanks, bartolomeo
(zoro, sanji, law, koby, ace)
a/n: sorry about the barto one, I got out of ideas but needed a 5th character...
words count: around 0.8k - 1.5k each
masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi
── .✦ Luffy:
You sit at the far end of the Sunny’s deck, legs dangling over the side. The sea sparkles in the sun, and the wind plays with your hair. Luffy is across from you, lying on his back with his hat over his face.
You glance at him for the third time in one minute.
He lifts the hat just a bit “You’re staring again” he says with a grin.
“I’m not” you lie, too fast.
“You are.” Luffy sits up, stretching “Why?”
“Because you’re weird” you say, kicking the air with your feet.
Luffy laughs “That’s true! Can I kiss you?”
You smile, but quickly turn away when you hear footsteps. Sanji walks by with a tray of drinks. He looks at you, then at Luffy, then back at you. He squints.
“Something wrong with your face, Sanji?” you ask, trying to sound casual.
He frowns “No. Just… never mind. Dinner is almost ready.” He walks off.
You glance at Luffy. He’s watching you now.
“Do you think he knows?” you whisper.
Luffy shrugs “Maybe. But who cares?”
“I care! We said we’d keep this a secret, remember? You’re our captain, they will think I get favouritism or something.”
He pouts “I show favoritism to every single one of them. None of you even call me Captain… Who else in the world is a captain but isn’t even called ‘Captain’ by his own crew? Just me! And I really want to tell them.”
“We can’t” you say, standing up “Not yet. It’ll be weird. They’ll tease us forever.”
Luffy tilts his head “So?”
“So… I like it like this. Just us.”
He grins again and nods “Okay, okay. Just us. I like this too.”
But then Usopp yells from the other side of the ship, “Luffy! Why were you smiling like that? Did you eat something without me?!”
Luffy shouts back, “No! Mind your business for once!”
You giggle.
He looks at you, serious for a second “They’re gonna find out.”
“You’re a terrible liar but if we’re careful we can at least have some more time.” you say.
But even as you say it, you know its just a matter of days before Luffy will “accidentally” expose you.
“DINNER IS READY!”
Everyone is gathered around the table, plates stacked high with meat, rice, and bread. Sanji’s outdone himself again. Luffy is already three plates in, sauce all over his face and hands.
You’re chewing on a piece of pizza when a bit of sauce drips onto your chin.
Without even thinking, Luffy leans across the table with a napkin he just stole from Nami and wipes it away gently.
“Messy” he mumbles smiling at you, like it’s normal.
Everyone freezes.
Nami slowly lowers her fork. Zoro raises an eyebrow. Usopp’s mouth falls open.
Sanji blinks “What the hell was that?”
Luffy freezes like a statue, still holding the napkin mid-air.
You feel your soul leave your body.
“Are you two…” Nami starts, squinting hard, “…dating?”
Luffy sits up fast, and stay still like he’s got caught in the middle of stealing all the food.
Then he suddenly snaps “Absolutely fucking not! Why would you even think that?!”
Silence.
You blink.
Zoro tilts his head “You sure? ‘Cause that was some weird-ass behavior.”
“Yeah, dude,” Usopp adds “You never wipe anyone’s face. You don’t even wipe your own face.”
Nami who is still shocked “Did… did he just say absolutely fucking not?”
Luffy looks like a deer caught in a very obvious lie.
Your eye twitches.
You sigh, lean back in your chair, and say, “Yes… yes. We’re dating. That lie was so bad I can’t even pretend anymore.”
Nami chokes on her drink. Brook lets out a dramatic gasp. Chopper claps his hooves together.
All while you whisper “Stupid me, I even thought the worst scenario was you finding out in the next few days.”
Luffy looks at you, then back at them “Wait—so we’re telling them now?”
“No, you! You told them by being the worst liar I’ve ever seen.”
He scratches his head “Oops.”
“You literally said ‘absolutely fucking not’, not really in character from you, don't you think?”
He grins “I panicked…That made it more dramatic, right?”
Sanji stands up like he’s about to give a whole speech “When did this start? How long have you been hiding this from your family?”
You groan. Luffy laughs. Everyone starts shouting questions at once.
He leans over and nudges you with his elbow “Hey. At least it’s not a secret anymore. And they don't seem to mind it at all! You were so scared for nothing, look at them!”
You shove a piece of bread in his mouth “You owe me so many meat dinners.”
He just grins wider and keeps eating like nothing happened but with a grin that actually says everything happened.
── .✦ Sabo:
It’s quiet after dinner. The hum of HQ fades beneath the warm weight of Sabo’s arms around you. You’re curled up in his lap on the couch in his room, legs tangled, his coat draped over both of you like a blanket. He’s kissing you softly, lazily, like the world doesn’t need saving for just a few hours.
“You always smell like smoke” you whisper, nose brushing his.
Sabo chuckles, pressing another kiss to your cheek “And you smell like peace. So I guess we’re even.”
You smile, fingertips trailing the line of his jaw, just about to kiss him again when BANG. The door flies open.
Hack stands there. Eyes wide. Mouth slightly open. Absolutely regretting everything.
“…Oh...” he says flatly.
You launch upright, nearly taking the coat with you.
“WAIT—!”
But Sabo, not missing a beat, still lazily cradling your waist, says in a perfectly deadpan voice “Close the door. We’re not done yet.”
Hack’s brain visibly short-circuits.
He backs out slowly like he’s seen the gates of hell.
“Yup. Nope. Didn’t see anything. I need bleach. Where’s the bleach.”
The door clicks shut.
Silence.
You collapse against Sabo, face buried in his chest.
He just laughs, fingers drawing gentle circles on your back.
“Hack’s probably going to meditate in a cold stream after this.”
The next morning Koala kicks open your cabin door “Rise and shine, lazyass—training starts in twen—”
She stops.
Empty bed. No note. No sign of life.
Her eye twitches.
Cut to: Sabo’s room. She barges in without knocking.
“What the hell, have you seen—oh my GOD!”
You’re in Sabo’s bed. In his shirt.
He’s sleepily spooning you, arm wrapped tight around your waist, chin nestled in your hair like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
Koala freezes.
You freeze.
Sabo doesn’t move a muscle. Just groans, nuzzles into you, and pulls you back down under the covers.
“…So that’s why you’re both always smiling at morning drills” Koala mutters.
You peek over Sabo’s shoulder, hair a mess, whispering “Hack didn’t lock the door.”
Koala just turns on her heel “Unbelievable. I’m calling Dragon. You two need supervised training from now on.”
You’re both trying so hard to keep it a secret even now.
Swearing up and down: No more getting caught. No more accidental cuddling in public. No more open doors. NO MORE SPOONING IN SABO'S SHIRT WHILE KOALA SCREAMS.
And yet...
After a brutal training session, you’re the last two stragglers left on the field. The sun's setting, sweat gleaming on both of you, breath still heavy from sparring.
Sabo tosses his gloves aside, runs a hand through his messy, damp hair, and looks at you like you're made of starlight and rebellion.
He steps closer.
You’re flushed, smiling, practically glowing from the adrenaline.
He reaches out, fingers brushing your cheek.
"Nobody’s here," he murmurs, a little breathless “Just one kiss.”
You’re this close. This close. Lips nearly touching—BOOM.
Ivankov struts around the corner like they owns the damn place, fanning dramatically.
“OH honey, if you’re gonna get sweaty together, at least invite me to watch!”
You and Sabo JUMP apart like you’ve been electrocuted.
Sabo coughs violently and turns beet red while you trip over your own foot trying to act like you were doing literally anything else.
Ivankov is grinning like the cat who caught the canoodling lovebirds “You two are about as subtle as a sea king in a bathtub.”
Ivankov winks and keeps walking like nothing happened.
Sabo is frozen. You’re wheezing from secondhand embarrassment.
“…We suck at this.” you mutter.
Sabo just covers his face and groans, “I’m never going to hear the end of all this.”
By now, literally everyone has caught you and Sabo in some weirdly intimate moment, except for one man, Monkey D. Dragon. And that’s how the betting pool was born.
It started with Koala dropping 50 berries on “He finds them mid-make-out in the strategy room.”
Hack went in on “One of them slips up and calls the other ‘babe’ during a mission brief.”
Even Ivankov scribbled down “Sabo gets distracted by Y/N’s ass mid-battle. Dragon walks up behind him.”
There’s a whiteboard hidden in the break room with all their bets.
In all this you and Sabo are sitting on a bench overlooking the cliffside near HQ, pretending to "review maps". The sun is golden, the breeze is soft, and Sabo’s hand is definitely resting a little too high on your thigh for this to be strictly cartographic.
Sabo chuckles, tilting his head toward the training grounds “Koala’s been pointing at us through binoculars for the last ten minutes.”
You glance over and she waves. So does Ivankov, who is literally holding a notepad that says “DRAGON CATCHES THEM: THURSDAY AT 14:37”.
You groan, burying your face in Sabo’s shoulder “This is humiliating.”
He laughs, pressing a kiss to your hair “We could just tell him and so they'll stop.”
You both pause.
Then simultaneously say, “Nope.”
The next day, it’s supposed to be a standard mission call. Everyone’s focused, the mission is critical, and everything is tense.
Suddenly, in the middle of all the seriousness, something goes wrong. You’re trying to navigate a tricky situation on the field, and you have to quickly adjust your position, which means you shift out of the line of communication for a second.
Sabo watches, trying to get your attention, then blurts out, completely unintentionally “Careful, babe.”
The whole call goes silent. The Den Den Mushi crackles with static, and suddenly, everyone on the call freezes.
Dragon (deadpan, calm as ever) “...What did you just say, Sabo?”
You immediately go white and you whip around to look at Sabo with wide eyes, panic setting in. You can hear Ivankov’s voice in the background, already laughing.
You “SABO, ARE YOU DUMB?!”
Sabo turns a brilliant shade of red "I—I didn’t mean—"
Everyone on the call is absolutely losing it.
Koala, trying to hold back laughter “Oh my God. Did you—did you just call them babe?!”
Hack, in the most deadpan voice ever “I won, right? I absolutely won this bet.”
You’re trying to keep your cool, but you can’t. You can’t. You cover your face, groaning.
Dragon, ever the calm voice in the storm, but with a clear edge of irritation “Next time, keep the personal affections off the mission calls. You're lucky this wasn’t an urgent situation. We almost got compromised.”
You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks. You glance at Sabo, who looks like he’s about to combust.
You, exasperated “Sabo, f***, you made me get scolded! This is so embarrassing!”
Sabo, still trying to apologize “I—I didn’t mean it like that! It was just a slip—”
But the damage is already done.
Dragon, his voice slightly dry “We’ll talk about this later. Focus on the mission. And next time—be more professional.”
As the call ends, the atmosphere is tense. You and Sabo are left standing there, feeling like two complete idiots.
Later that day, the break room is chaos. Hack is smugly holding up his winnings from the betting pool. Koala is still laughing, and Ivankov is offering “support” by teasing Sabo non-stop.
You, on the other hand, are doing your best to avoid eye contact with everyone as Sabo sulks in the corner.
You, barely holding it together “I hate you right now. I really do.”
Sabo “I swear, I didn’t mean to. I’m so sorry.”
“You didn’t mean to, but you’re still an idiot.”
Sabo rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly “…I deserve that.”
── .✦ Kid:
You don’t really think much of it the first time.
A small, clumsily wrapped package left outside your room on the Victoria Punk. The paper’s crinkled like it was balled up five times before someone gave up and tied it with rough twine.
Inside a shiny little trinket you’d mentioned wanting in passing weeks ago.
You raise a brow but say nothing. Maybe someone’s just being nice.
Then it happens again. And again.
Each gift is messy but thoughtful, like someone’s trying to be sweet. A handmade weapon accessory here. Your favorite snacks there. One day, a scrawled note reads, “Don’t let anyone else have this. It’s for you only” not signed.
The crew notices. Of course they do.
Heat starts humming “Someone’s got a secret admirer~.”
Wire goes like “Who even knew you liked that kind of thing?”
Killer, raising a brow behind his mask “...It’s weirdly specific, though. Whoever it is knows you pretty well.”
You try to play it off, but the teasing doesn’t stop. It only gets louder. More obnoxious.
Kid, arms crossed, leaning against the railing “Tch. Who cares? Buncha idiots drooling over gifts like teenagers.”
You glance at him out of the corner of your eye.
He's unbothered. Disinterested. Completely unfazed.
That night, when the ship’s quiet and everyone’s turned in, you knock on his door. He opens it in a loose tank top and sleep-rumpled hair, eyes narrowing.
“What.”
You cross your arms “Are the gifts from you?”
He blinks “What?”
“The stuff. The notes. The snacks. You’re the only one who listens that closely.”
A flicker of something passes through his expression, too fast to catch. But then his scowl deepens.
“You think I’ve got time to play secret admirer with you? Hell no.”
You stare at him, caught off guard.
“…You’re serious?”
He scoffs and turns away “Go to sleep. You’re imagining things.”
He slams the door behind him. You’re left in the hall, heart twisting a little. Because he sounded so convincing.
But if it’s not him… Then who the hell is it?
After that night with Kid, you really do try to let it go. But the crew doesn’t.
You can't walk into the mess hall without someone raising an eyebrow or tossing a comment.
Wire leans back in his chair one morning, boots on the table, biting into an apple with a grin “Hey, Y/N, no new packages today? What a tragedy. Guess your mystery lover finally ran out of ideas.”
Heat chuckles, elbowing him “Or maybe they’re just planning something bigger. Like a grand confession. What do you think, huh? Gonna be roses next time?”
You, dryly “Right. I’ll expect fireworks off the port side.”
Killer, voice calm but laced with amusement from beneath the mask “Honestly, I’m more impressed by the consistency. Whoever it is, they’re either very devoted… or very stupid.”
Kid, across the room, is pretending not to hear, arms crossed, eyes on something that doesn't exist. His jaw’s clenched so tight, you can see it from here.
You catch his eye for a second but he looks away fastly.
The next morning, nothing shows up. Then the next. And the next.
You don’t say anything about it. Neither does Kid. But something’s different in the air now, like tension caught in a bottle, just waiting to explode.
One night, you’re lying tangled up together, the hum of the ship quiet around you. He’s half asleep, heavy arm slung across your waist, his hand lazily tracing circles on your skin.
Your head is on his chest, warm and steady.
“…I haven’t gotten any new gifts lately” you mumble, mostly to yourself.
He stiffens just slightly, but doesn’t say a word.
You chew on your lip “Think they found out about us? Maybe they backed off.”
Still nothing.
You lift your head and look at him “You ever think about who it might’ve been? Kinda funny, right? Maybe someone on the crew really had a thing for me.”
Still no response.
You grin a little “What if it was Killer? You think he’s the poetic type? Am I his type?”
Before you can say another word—whump.
A pillow slams into your face, hard enough to make you roll.
“HEY!” you shout, laughing “You absolute brat!”
Kid doesn’t even look guilty.
“You’re annoying” he mutters, but there’s a faint blush rising to his ears. He turns his head, scowling at the ceiling like it insulted him personally.
You smirk, poking him in the side “Ohh, someone’s touchy…”
“I’m throwing you off the bed.”
“You’re not strong enough.”
“Wanna bet?”
Weeks pass.
Everyone moves on. The secret admirer jokes fade. Kid goes back to normal, grumpy, snarky, yours. You figure that weird little mystery chapter is just done.
Until one day, you find a new gift.
Not one of its usual ones, no haphazard twine, no angry handwriting. This one’s clean, careful. Wrapped in deep red paper with a ribbon tied perfectly.
Inside: a carved charm. Elegant. Personal.
The note says “Couldn’t help myself. Thought you’d like this.”
Your heart actually skips a beat.
You march straight to the engine bay, holding it up like evidence. Kid’s elbow-deep in mechanical guts, oil smeared on his hands.
“Hey,” you call “Now... is this from you?”
He glances up, sees the box, and freezes “What the fuck is that?”
“A gift. Someone left it for me. Just now.”
The silence is nuclear.
Then his voice explodes “ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!”
He storms past you like a cannonball with legs, throwing open the engine bay doors and stomping onto the deck.
“ALRIGHT,” he bellows, voice booming across the ship, “WHOEVER THE HELL THINKS THEY CAN FLIRT WITH MY PARTNER—UGH COME SAY IT TO MY FACE!”
Everyone stops what they’re doing.
A wrench drops. Someone chokes on their food. Killer just sighs.
“YOU HEARD ME!” Kid’s pacing like a madman, hair wild, coat half falling off one shoulder “YOU THINK YOU CAN STEAL MY ONE WITH PRETTY RIBBONS?! Y/N IS MINE. MINE!”
You bury your face in your hands and whisper "Please stop, this is really embarassing."
Killer, calmly from the upper deck “Well. That answers that. We all knew the original gifts were from you, Eustass.”
Heat, grinning “Yeah, but I thought he’d last a little longer before breaking.”
Wire, yelling from the mess hall window “PAY UP! I SAID HE’D CRACK WHEN A REAL RIVAL SHOWED UP!”
You’re still standing in the middle of the storm, holding the new gift while your hot-headed boyfriend is screaming at the ocean.
You, deadpan “Great. Now the whole Grand Line knows.”
Kid, turning to you like you betrayed him “WHY WERE YOU SMILING AT IT?!
“Because I thought it was from you again!”
“WELL, IT WASN’T. AND NOW I’M GONNA MURDER WHOEVER THAT WAS.”
The deck is still vibrating from Kid’s volume. He’s stomping around like a territorial lion, red in the face and shouting murder oaths into the wind.
“COME ON! WHO WAS IT?! WHO THINKS THEY’VE GOT A CHANCE?! I’LL BREAK YOUR TEETH IN.”
You’re standing there, clutching the new gift, wondering if you’ll have to tackle him to keep the crew alive.
But then Killer steps forward, calm as ever “Kid.”
Nothing.
Killer raises his voice slightly “Kid!”
That gets through. Kid slows, turns, still wild-eyed “What?! You want me to let someone just—?!”
Killer sighs like he’s been dealing with this since the womb “That gift wasn’t from a rival. It was from us all.”
The entire crew falls silent.
You blink “Wait—what?”
Killer glances at you, then back to Kid, arms crossed “We knew the first gifts were from you. We’ve known for a while.”
Kid opens his mouth. Closes it. Opens it again “You—WHAT?!”
Heat, leaning against the rail with a huge grin “C’mon. You thought we wouldn’t recognize your handwriting? You write like you’re trying to fight the paper.”
Wire, popping his head out from the doorway “And who else would wrap a gift in metal wire and call it ‘aesthetic’?"
Killer adds “We figured if we pushed you enough, you’d confess eventually. That final gift was just the nudge.”
Kid stares at them like they’ve grown two heads “So it was a trap?!”
Killer, with a shrug “It worked.”
Then Killer turns to you “What we didn’t know was that you two were already together.”
There’s a ripple of surprise through the crew.
Wire nods “Yeah! Let's go back to that because... like... what?”
Heat nods even more dramatically “Yeah! Since when?!”
You, dryly “A few months before the first gift showed up.”
Kid’s jaw tightens like he regrets every decision leading to this moment.
“You guys are the worst” he growls.
Heat, wheezing “We’re the worst?! You’ve been sneaking around and flirting through weapon mods!”
Wire, laughing “AND YOU STILL DENIED IT TO Y/N’S FACE?!”
Kid lets out a sound somewhere between a growl and a scream and turns to you like you’re his last hope of escaping humiliation.
You just grin at him “C’mon, Captain. Let’s go before you combust.”
He’s still grumbling when you tug his arm and drag him below deck, muttering curses under his breath the whole way.
── .✦ Shanks:
The sea is quiet tonight.
The crew laughs near the campfire, their voices loud under the stars. You sit a little away from them, pretending to look at the moon. But really, you’re waiting. Waiting for him.
A warm hand touches your shoulder from behind.
“Miss me?” Shanks whispers, his voice soft like a wave brushing the shore.
You smile without turning “You’re late.”
“I had to talk to Benn. Captain stuff,” he says. Then he leans in close “But I’ve been thinking of you the whole time.”
You giggle, quiet “Liar.”
“I’m a pirate. What did you expect?”
Finally, you turn to him. Shanks is smiling that lazy smile you know too well. His red hair glows under the moonlight. His eyes? All on you.
“Don't look at me like that, someone might see it” you whisper, looking at the crew.
“They won’t,” he says “They’re drunk, loud, and too busy telling stories.”
You glance again. He’s right. No one is looking.
So you let him pull you behind the palm trees. The sand is warm under your feet, and the wind carries the scent of salt and firewood. He sits down and opens his arms.
“Come here.”
You crawl into his lap like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He wraps his one arm around your waist, holding you close.
“I missed you today” you say.
“I missed you too” he says. Then he kisses the top of your head “You know what keeps me going?”
“What?”
“This. Just this.”
You press your face into his chest “You’re soft for a pirate.”
He laughs, his chest shaking “Only with you.”
The night is quiet now. Just the waves and the sound of his heartbeat.
He whispers, “One day, when this secret doesn’t have to be a secret anymore… I’ll hold your hand in front of everyone. I’ll kiss you right on the deck.”
You look up at him “Promise?”
“I swear on the one piece.”
You laugh again, and he kisses your nose “That’s a big promise” you say.
“I never break my promises” he says.
And in that moment, under the stars and hidden from the world, you believe him.
It’s late now. The fire has burned low. The crew is asleep, scattered in hammocks or on the beach.
But you’re wide awake.
You stare at the door of his cabin. You know it’s risky. But your heart pulls you there anyway.
You knock once, soft.
The door opens almost instantly. He’s there, sleepy eyes and messy hair. Shirt half buttoned.
“Couldn’t sleep?” he asks with a small smile.
You shake your head “Can I… stay?”
He doesn’t answer with words. Just steps aside, lets you in, and closes the door behind you.
His room smells like sea salt, old paper, and something that’s just him. It’s small but warm. The bed takes up most of the space.
“You sure you want to risk it?” he teases, pulling the blankets back.
You nod, already crawling in “You’re warm. That’s worth the risk.”
He chuckles, switching off the lantern “Come here then.”
The bed creaks as he joins you. You curl into his chest. His arm wraps around you tightly, like he’s afraid you’ll vanish.
You whisper into the dark, “I love when it’s just us.”
“I know,” he says, resting his chin on your head “Me too.”
Silence for a moment. Just your breaths, your hearts. Together.
Then he says, quietly, “I always sleep better when you’re here.”
You grin, even though he can’t see it.
“You snore” you whisper.
“Lies.”
“Loudly.”
He laughs, low and soft “I’m a captain. I’m allowed.”
You snuggle closer, legs tangled, warmth everywhere. His hand finds yours under the blanket. Fingers laced, easy and natural.
“Stay every night,” he says, voice almost a mumble now “Even if they find out. Even if it’s chaos. I don’t care anymore.”
“You’ll care when Benn gives you that look” you say.
“I’ll survive it,” he says “I won’t survive not having you.”
You go quiet at that. Because sometimes, he says things that hit your heart like a wave.
“I won’t survive not having you either” you whisper.
He kisses your forehead. Gentle. Safe. Real.
In the morning, the sunlight slips through the cracks in the window, painting golden stripes across the bed.
You stretch, warm and safe, still tucked under Shanks’ arm. He’s already awake, watching you with sleepy eyes and a soft smile.
“Morning” he whispers, brushing hair from your face.
“Morning” you mumble back, voice still scratchy from sleep.
He leans down and kisses your cheek “You drooled a little.”
“Liar.”
“You did.”
You groan, roll over, and bury your face in his pillow “I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.”
You don’t.
But you’re very late.
You were supposed to help Lucky Roux in the kitchen twenty minutes ago. But after all the cuddling and stealing kisses between brushing your teeth and Shanks being distracting (on purpose), you throw on the nearest shirt and rush out the door.
The morning air hits your face. The crew is already up, busy with chores, chatting, moving crates, laughing.
You walk fast, head down, trying not to look guilty. But then someone says behind you, “Hey…”
You freeze.
It’s Yasopp.
He squints, then tilts his head “That shirt looks kinda familiar…”
You look down. Big, red, half-buttoned pirate shirt. Smells faintly like rum and sea and... you.
It’s his shirt.
You force a smile “Oh, really? I, um… I just bought this yesterday in town! Crazy, right?”
Yasopp blinks “It’s just... Shanks has one just like that.”
You laugh. Too loud “That’s so funny! What a coincidence!”
He raises an eyebrow “Uh-huh.”
You start walking again “Okay, bye! Gotta go stir the stew!”
You practically run to the kitchen, slam the door behind you, and press your back to it, heart racing.
Lucky Roux looks up from chopping onions “You okay?”
“Fine! Everything’s fine! Great! Love onions!”
You spend the next hour hiding in the kitchen, trying to look very busy.
You’re scrubbing a spoon like it just insulted your whole family when you hear footsteps outside.
Then, his voice.
“Mmh…”
It’s Shanks.
You freeze.
“I swear I left it here somewhere…” he mumbles, mostly to himself.
Lucky Roux looks up “Captain?”
Shanks scratches his head “My red shirt. The one with the loose buttons? I wanted to wash it but… maybe I already did? Or someone moved it?”
You choke on air.
Lucky Roux’s eyes widen.
You slowly turn, still holding the spoon, sweat forming on your back.
Yasopp walks in right then, and Lucky Roux points at you silently.
Yasopp follows the finger… sees the very red shirt you’re wearing… and his jaw drops.
“Oh… my… GOD.”
You raise your hands like you’re being arrested “I can explain—”
“No no no no, don’t you dare,” Yasopp says, pointing now “This is amazing. Since when?!”
Shanks, confused, looks between you and them “Wait… what’s happening?”
Your face burns “Shanks. This is your shirt.”
He blinks.
Looks at you.
Then at the shirt.
Then back.
“Oh.”
The silence lasts about two seconds.
Then the entire kitchen explodes.
“What the hell?!”
“You two?!”
“I KNEW IT!”
Lucky Roux claps like he just saw a proposal “This is the best day of my life.”
You groan and hide behind a cabinet door.
Shanks laughs, holding up his hands “Okay, okay, okay, you got us.”
Yasopp shouts, “Since when?”
Shanks grins and leans casually against the table “Mmh… A while. Since that one stop in Lougetown.”
“That was months ago!” someone yells.
You peek out, blushing “We were being careful!”
“You wore his shirt” Yasopp deadpans.
Shanks throws an arm around your shoulder “Guess we don’t have to be careful anymore.”
The crew starts chanting something dumb like “KISS KISS KISS!” and you groan again, but Shanks just laughs and plants a quick kiss on your temple, bold and smug.
“Oh you're actually loving all this” you whisper.
“A lot” he whispers back.
── .✦ Bartolomeo:
You didn’t mean to fall for Bartolomeo.
It kind of… just happened.
Between the screaming, the fangirling, the way he glared at anyone who looked at you too long. But somewhere between the nonsense, you found something real.
He loves big. Loud. Unfiltered. But when no one’s watching? He loves so quietly, you can barely believe it’s the same guy.
Right now, you're hiding in the hallway of the ship, tucked behind a stack of crates. Bartolomeo is sitting cross-legged, handing you a rice ball.
“I made it for you!” he says, puffing out his chest “I watched a tutorial. It’s heart-shaped!”
You look down. It’s… more like a lumpy circle, but you smile anyway.
“It’s perfect” you say.
His face turns red “Y/n…” He sways a little, hand over his heart “You’re too kind… I’m gonna DIE!”
You laugh and take a bite.
“Don’t die. You still owe me cuddles tonight.”
“RIGHT. YES. I shall live for the cuddles.”
The secret has stayed safe. So far.
Except today, you dock on an island with a bunch of rowdy pirates who definitely pick a fight before lunch.
You’re in the middle of battle, blocking with a staff, when one pirate gets too close and knocks you to the ground.
You’re fine. A little scratched. But Bartolomeo sees it happen. And then it happens.
He turns.
He screams.
“THAT’S MY BABYYYYYYYYY—!”
Everyone stops.
Even the wind pauses.
You slowly get up. Face blank.
He freezes.
His hand is mid-air, about to use his barrier powers. His eyes wide.
“…Did I just say that out loud?” he whispers.
The entire crew is staring.
Someone goes, “Wait. Your baby???”
You try to speak “Uh—he means—”
“I MEAN WHAT I SAID,” Bartolomeo yells again, fully panicking now “Y/N IS MY BABY. MY LOVE. MY SWEET CHERRY BLOSSOM—”
“BARTO,” you hiss “Stop confessing in front of everyone!”
Too late.
He throws his hands up and suddenly there’s a giant heart-shaped barrier around you two. Sparkly. Pink. Absolutely not subtle.
He turns to you “At least we’re alone now.”
You facepalm “There’s a window, Barto.”
You hear cheering from outside.
“THEY’RE DATINGGGGG!”
“PAY UP, I TOLD YOU THEY WERE!”
“DOES LUFFY KNOW?!”
You sigh.
Bartolomeo wraps you in his arms, completely unbothered now “So… secret’s out.”
You look up at him “What gave it away? The screaming or the love bubble prison?”
“…Both?”
You can’t help it. You laugh. He kisses your forehead.
“I love you” he says.
“I love you too” you whisper, even if the entire world hears it now.
After that no one seems to actually care about the two of you.
Weeks later you and Bartolomeo are docked on a chill island when you run into the last people you expected: the Straw Hat Pirates.
Luffy spots you both instantly.
“YO, BARTO!!” he shouts, waving like a madman.
Bartolomeo screams, throws himself to the ground, and starts sobbing with joy.
“LUFFY-SENPAI! I WOULD DIE FOR YOU! THANK YOU FOR BREATHING IN MY DIRECTION!!”
You’re behind him like “Okay, this is fine.”
You greet the rest of the crew like normal. Everyone’s smiling, happy to see you, no one suspects a thing.
You and Bartolomeo agreed before getting there: keep it private. You didn’t want anyone or worse, Luffy finding out. Bartolomeo is just way better when it's just the two of you.
That night, it happens.
“GAME NIGHT!” Usopp shouts “Winner gets free food!”
The crew splits into teams. You get pulled into a round of a random game and of course you end up against Luffy.
Everyone’s crowded around. People are yelling. Sanji’s handing out drinks. Robin and Nami are judging.
Luffy’s up first.
He draws a card and starts flapping his arms.
“Bird!” “Chicken!” “Flying fish!” “Zoro waking up late!”
He gets it.
Then it’s your turn.
You pull your card and immediately drop to the ground, trying to act out a seal (It’s harder than it looks).
People are guessing like crazy.
"Penguin!" "Sea cow?"
Luffy squints.
Bartolomeo, sitting quietly in the back with popcorn, clutches his cup.
He stares at you with so much intensity, it’s insane.
And then it happens... again.
You clap your hands and bounce a little, still acting out the seal.
He jumps to his feet.
“YES BABY! GO! DESTROY HIM!! YOU GOT THIS, MY LITTLE WAR MACHINE!!”
Silence.
Everyone stares.
You freeze mid-flap.
Luffy slowly turns “Wait… Baby?”
Zoro raises an eyebrow “Little war what?”
Nami drops her drink.
Chopper gasps so hard he hiccups.
Sanji says “Wait a damn minute...”
Bartolomeo realizes too late. Hands fly to his mouth.
You’re still stuck in seal position, blinking.
Robin, smiling softly “Well… that explains the way he looks at you.”
You turn to look at him, mad “Do you even try??”
Usopp yells, “YOU TWO?! YOU’VE BEEN DATING THIS WHOLE TIME?!”
Bartolomeo’s face is red as a tomato “I… I didn’t mean to! y/n was just so cute pretending to be a seal...”
You slap your forehead.
Luffy, wide-eyed, just goes, “Whoa. You’re dating my number one fan. That’s crazy. He even choose to cheer for you.”
You sigh “Yeah. It is.”
And then he bursts out laughing “THAT’S SO COOL!”
The whole crew joins in, laughing, teasing, clapping Bartolomeo on the back. He’s half-proud, half-mortified, but he doesn’t stop smiling all night.
Later, when the chaos dies down, he wraps an arm around your waist and whispers, “Sorry, babe.”
You smirk “For cheering too loud?”
“For waiting this long to yell about how amazing you are.”
You roll your eyes “I liked the ‘my little war machine’ part.”
He gasps “Really?! I was just improvising!”
“Never do that again.”
“Okay but also… you were winning.”
#luffy#shanks#sabo#bartolomeo#eustass kid#one piece#one piece x y/n#one piece x you#one piece x reader#one piece fanfiction#one piece fanfic#one piece fluff#one piece fic#one piece scenarios#one piece x yn#luffy x reader#shanks x reader#kid x reader#kidd x reader#sabo x reader#one piece imagine#sabo x you#bartolomeo x reader#barto x reader#shanks x you#shanks fanfic#monkey d luffy#eustass kid x reader#eustass kid x you#luffy x you
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Mark remembers being your husband.
Well, okay, he was never actually your husband.
But when you played house in the comfort of backyards and playgrounds, he never had an issue assuming that role in your game of make believe. Whatever it took to just to keep his friend.
You'd use whatever you had around as your "kids." New action figures, old dollies, spare blankets, the poor dog who wanted no part in being dressed up.
It wasn't Mark's thing, no. But he played along properly each time just to stay with you till the sun went down.
He'd fix the house, go to work, play hero with your kids, take you on pretend dates, he'd even pick you up and spin you around as a greeting for when he got home! Well, okay, maybe he wasn't quite strong enough to do that yet. But he certainly tried! Giggling when you two tipped over, talking about his supposed day at work.
He didn't stop you if you had an idea either.
You want to pretend you're going to the store? Sure thing, he'll push the basket. You stuff a ball under your shirt to pretend you got a baby in there? Okay, he'll do the chores while you sit 'n sew. You want to kiss him cause you just love your husband oh so much? Uhh ... well, maybe that's a bit ... oh, and now you're kissing him anyways. Super.
Admittedly, he didn't like that part at first, cooties and all, but his admonition went out the window as you huffed and started chasing him round and round until you landed a successful one on his lips.
He soon got used to it though, even puckering up before you had put your kids to sleep. He even found himself thinking about it when it was time for you two to hit the hay.
And even now as he got older.
When he sat there at his desk, spacing out. First wondering about what's for lunch, then the latest comic waiting for him at home, then you.
He hadn't seen you a long time. You probably forgot about him by now. Or maybe not? You two did spend a lot of time together and you seemed to have about as many other friends as he did (which wasn't a lot). But you guys were more grown up now, you'd probably repressed those memories, right?
Yeah, that seems more likely.
I mean, why worry about that one scrawny boy when you were probably surrounded by lots of hot guys now.
One who'd be your real husband someday. That you'd make play with your kids and cuddle up to and kiss over and over again.
Mmm ... for some reason Mark didn't like that thought. Nose scrunching up and brows furrowing.
You'd been his first kiss, you know. And probably his only one. That thought made him feel strange too. Though in a better way that turns bittersweet in the end.
Did you ever think about that?
How he could technically have been considered your first boyfriend?
Oh no, well now he hopes not. Cause if you did, you'd have to tell your current boyfriend, right? Then he'd want to come beat up the punk who knew his girl.
Mark rubbed his eyes, trying to get that out of his head. It'd suck if he'd made an another enemy he didn't even know existed. A guy could only take so much locker shoving, you know?
He sighed and looked up to the front of the class. He hadn't heard a word the teacher said and could only hope it wasn't important.
They guestured to the door.
A surprise principal meeting? Hadn't had one of those in a while. He should probably look at the other kids' desks to figure out what he should be pretending to do.
The door's opening.
Okay, no one has their notebooks so maybe he should- wait. Is that you!?
You were taller than back then, but he could recognize you from anywhere! He watched as your lips started moving, those lips that had countlessly kissed his. He blanked on what you were saying, but he heard your voice. The sound just made all those random specifics details of you appear in his mind all at once.
And he may have been making things up at this point, but he swears your eyes were on him the moment you walked in.
You remember him? Even if it is just a little vaguely? You don't know how high that'd make his heart rocket.
Did you maybe want to sit by him? He wouldn't mind. Maybe you couldn't play house anymore, but you could still do things as you used to right?
Or maybe he could work his way up to becoming your actual husband now?
That was why you were suddenly here, right? The fates decided you weren't done playing pretend. Was he cool enough to talk to you now? Could he even bring up what had technically happened between you?
Would you bring it up?
Or does he have to keep sitting here, reliving those tender moments till the rest of his days?
Please don't make it come to that.
Please ...
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i literally cant stop thinkin’ about highschoolbully!gojo who used to be your ride or die ‘til he started getting attention from those popular jock type guys who are always assholes to everyone. and him being.. well, him means he preens under attention no matter who it’s from, so naturally he started to gravitate towards that group and their little troop of cheerleading fangirls. and then he started distancing from you and without either of you really realizing it, you’ve slipped between the other’s fingers. but the way he acts towards you makes you think he let you fall without moving a muscle to slow you down.
soon enough, a year swings by and by the end of it he’s gone from your life, save as just another face in the gaggle of boys who make crude jokes and laugh at smart kids and pop milk cartoons during lunch just for the hell of it. but you’re minding your own business, ‘cause you’re mature enough to realize that people come and go, no matter how close you might’ve been and you think it’s unfortunate that so many memories could be thrown aside in a blink of an eye, but it makes a lot of sense when you walk past satoru and his friends bullying some random kid. you don’t know him, but you’ve heard enough to realize it’s his girlfriend satoru’s flirting with while his ‘gang’ kick at the kid. and it’s sickening, but you don’t say anything when you walk by.
and when you don’t ever see the kid afterward and catch the dark eyebags under his girlfriend’s eyes, you come to the cruel realization that satoru isn’t the boy who’d bandage the scrape on your knee you got from tripping in the playground or buy you a soda because he’s noticed your sweat when you were walking home and you don’t have any money left on you.
it’s a glass half empty, half full type of situation. on the one hand, you don’t have him anymore. on the other hand, you don’t have him anymore. that is, you lost your best friend, but you’ve also lost someone who has the potential to absolutely ruin your life. and you don’t know whether to be glad or not, so you just mind your own business even if it hurts a little when he ignores you, stops tossing paper at your head in class (unless it’s to embarrass you) and stops walking you to and from school.
but the cherry on top of the shit cake is that he doesn't get it. so when he approaches you in the library one day after satiating the need to tear pages from books and make them into paper airplanes to throw at people, he doesn't seem to understand why you try to ignore him, or put off his attempts to hold a convo. but the worst part is that he's just sleazy and clueless about it. it's like he took an eraser and wiped every single year of your friendship off the chalkboard with one fell swipe, and you wish he'd done that too to the less-than-appropriate messages he and his friends had written towards one of your classmates.
he doesn't understand why you're hesitant to talk, and that's what makes it the worst. he always thinks he's in the right, and he keeps setting you off and it sucks that he knows exactly what sets you off. "i'm an asshole? what're you talking about? really, you're in over your head. you never change." he laughs, and you ignore him, and he gets bored, and he's about to leave when he spots your wallet open next to your book, on the table. there's a polaroid peeking out, and he recognizes the tufts of white hair to be him. but there's a weird feeling in his chest, and he thinks he gets it from you, so he leaves because he thinks you're weird.
and it goes on; you practically become a nobody in satoru's eyes, because of that weird, weird feeling you give him. it's unfamiliar and he's never gotten it before and he doesn't like it. but it's unavoidable when your professor pairs you two for the end-of-term project. and of course, you're ready to do all the work, because that's how it always was between you when you were kids. but sometimes he'd surprise you by helping, and he'd show you that he was actually intelligent just to earn your praise because he liked it. but he ignored you, and you did everything, and it would've been okay if not for his friends egging him on to present your entire project when the day came and leave you with no content for a grade.
that's the first time it hits him: does he really want to do that? but it's not like it'll be the first time; you've always taken the hits for him, because you're naturally smart and you'll pick yourself back up in no time, and you get why he does it, so it'll be okay. so he agrees, and he enjoys the time he gets to spend with you through it, but the nagging weird feeling that blooms in his chest like a pesky weed only grows stronger. that's all his feelings ever seem to do around you.
but before you know it, presentation day swings around. you had coffee this morning (on his card), and you're ready enough to shoot him a small smile that sends his heart a-flutter. so you go up, feeling up to the task and ready until— he starts talking, and talking, and talking, and people don't think that he's taking your words out of your mouth because he's intelligent when he wants to make you praise him and you don't get the chance to get a word in and you notice the guys are laughing and hitting each other's shoulders to themselves in the upper rows and before you know it it's over. people are clapping but moreso they're looking at you and they're whispering— but it's terribly loud and they don't bother to hide it. they call you things that shouldn't bother you but they do anyway, because it's satoru's fault, and you're such a fool for thinking you could have it your way again.
so you leave class early, excusing yourself and ignoring the way your professor gives you a distasteful look and scribbles something next to your name. you're out the door in a second, neglecting your bags and satoru's a little lost because— didn't he just do good? people were clapping, and laughing with him and not at him, but it's attention either way so he doesn't mind. so why do you? why did you look at him like he stabbed you in the back? and his friends are calling his name, and he wishes he could chase after you and do something but he doesn't.
and it's a little sickening what they do next; one of their girls grabbed your bags and tossed it to them, and they've started rifling through it as if they own it, tearing up your shit and dumping everything onto the ground and he's kind of just... glued to the chair by his feelings. his heart feels like it's been patched together and the weird fuzzy feeling he had in his chest that's been cultivating has extinguished to be replaced with something he realizes he's only ever felt when it comes to you— guilt.
he's so lost in his thoughts that he doesn't realize his friend is silently offering him something— nudging his side to get his attention. he takes it without really realizing he moved his hand, and his silent friend with the gauges in his ears and the dark hair gets up and leaves without another word. when satoru looks down, he realizes he's been given your wallet. "the reward for betraying your baby," they call it. like all you're worth is the money in your account.
he's a little curious. that's how he's always been; asking you questions, rummaging through your stuff, laughing sheepishly and shaking it off when you caught him red-handed. so he opens it up, ignoring your sad little cards and the funny look on your license. he's looking for something, subconsciously; but he doesn't find it. there's no white tuft of hair to suggest his presence in your life; just empty black leather. nothing else.
and he doesn't see you after. or the following day. or the following weeks; weeks that turn into months that turn into the end of school and he's graduating but you're not by his side. and neither are his so called 'friends'; the only thing he has to their name is your own ruined friendship. it's a shame; he feels alone. very alone. no fuzzy weird feeling, not even that thing people call guilt. no attention to chase, and connections are ever harder to make. it shouldn'tve mattered that much, right? it was just a presentation. why wouldn't you just come back to him like you always did? were you not still friends...?
but the blood is still on his hands, and he doesn't manage to ever wash it off. guilt has a way of festering; of weighing on the heart 'till there's nothing left to feel or think but unfortunate circumstance and what could've been done differently. it just sucks that he never tried hard enough to keep you from slipping between his grasp. and now, he doesn't even have a polaroid to your friendship's name.
pt.2
#idk where this came from#this has probably been done before so i hope this take is original enough 👨🍳#new drabble style cus i got lazy ajgfbdshjg#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#jjk x reader#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x you#satoru gojo x reader#gojo x you#jjk x you#satoru gojo x you#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo x y/n#technically#jjk angst#gojo angst#billet-doux#satoru x reader#gojou satoru x reader#satoru gojo#gojo#jjk satoru#gojo jjk
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[ 𝐈 𝐁𝐄𝐓 𝐎𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐎𝐆𝐒 ]

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. the king of curses cannot fight off his primal urges and thus you suffer the consequences.
tags. true form!sukuna x concubine!female reader. smut, angst (w/ comfort), p.orn with mostly plot. mäting press. choking. rough like.. condescendingly rough. objectification. toxic relationship? yes. small hint of creampiē. double cawks. reader gets called ‘slut, girl, woman’ wc: 3.9k

“look at that slutty cunt takin’ my cock. think i wanna try fitting both at once in that lil’ hole. keh,” sukuna grunts as he looks down at you from above. your legs are burning from being folded in half—matter of fact—your entire body is aching.
any normal person would call out their safeword in a situation like this. you’re overwhelmed to the point that your brain doesn’t know what to do. you’re experiencing euphoria, yet feel like your doom is right around the corner.
you’re playing with fire whenever you’re intimate with the king of curses.
it’s too addictive to stop. being his favorite concubine has given you enough motivation to push through any difficulties. any discomfort your body feels, is automatically discarded and replaced with drowning pleasure. it’s like sukuna has put a spell on you; one that’s unbreakable.
“fffnghh—my lord,” you gasp for air as one of his big hands wrap tightly around your throat. your airway is blocked, nearly crushed by sukuna’s immense force. you get a flashback to the last time he’s choked you, how sukuna nearly lost control of his own strength.
your eyes are watery as your insides follow each thrust. back and forth, in and out. it is a simple rhythm, but you cannot get enough. the harsh and sticky echoes of skin slapping against skin are nearly ear deafening. his heavy balls bounce against the plush flesh of your ass with every move, ready to unload everything they’ve stored.
“shut up,” sukuna spits, looking down at you like you’re but a mere insect. perhaps you were exactly that to him in the heat of the moment. his red eyes show that he’s losing himself. that cruel yet greedy look only intensifies with the second, “you only speak when y’re spoken to—or did y’ forget your damn place?”
you swallow your words and resort to simple moaning after you apologise, “i’m sorry, m’lord.” your blurry vision creates a trippy illusion, giving sukuna eight arms and eyes. not only are you seeing double, the feeling of ecstasy is twice as strong. you feel like you’re being ripped apart from the inside.
you can’t speak about it. you’re not allowed to open your mouth unless it’s to moan or breathe. perhaps even the latter is too much to ask. your fingers shake as they wrap around sukuna’s wrist. you try to tug at the hand that is wrapped around your throat, but your strength is gone.
your body is shaking violently with each thrust. you can’t keep up with anything that’s happening. you’re unable to process the feeling of sukuna’s second cock trying to prod its way into your cunt as well. you’re going to break — he’s going to break you.
you want to speak up and tell him you can’t take both in the same hole at once. it’s an impossible task; one can’t even fit that easily. he’s girthy and got an immense length, an inhuman one you’ve never seen before. you swear you can feel him in your tummy. the tip feeling like it's nestled right underneath your belly button.
sukuna scoffs as you tighten up around his lower cock. you’re weak; a weak human who he can’t seem to get out of his mind. he wants to exploit that obedience of yours today—to ruin you mentally and physically.
he can’t ignore those urges to ruin that what causes him weakness. he wishes to regain the power over himself again. that can only be done by consuming you, removing you from existence.
“i can’t fuckin’ stand you,” sukuna growls, his eyes darkening beyond imagination, “y’re always in the way.” you’re scared of the king of curses, which rarely happens. the last time you were afraid of his monstrous aura was during your first encounter in the woods. his manly hand squeezes your throat until you’re genuinely struggling to breathe.
there’s an unmistakable sense of danger boiling in your guts. this is the real nature of the curse named ryomen sukuna. the man above you, who’s drilling his cock into you while you’re suffering, is the real deal.
the true face of the man you thought you knew.
“i’m gonna get rid of you, y’hear? after this, y’re nothing,” sukuna pants, sweat droplets falling onto your cheeks from above. he looks like he’s internally fighting with himself. the expression on his face tells you enough. you want to reach a hand out towards his cheek and hold it.
he looks beautiful, even when he spews such serious threats at you. your cunt is burning and holding tightly onto his cock, even when you realise it may break you.
you’ve stayed for so long with him, even when you know you’ll one day die at his side or by his hands.
locks of his pink hair stick to his forehead. sweat rolls down those black tattoos. all four red eyes are burning with a carnal desire to claim you as his property—to destroy you like his property. as is his right. that’s the only way to satiate that overwhelming feeling inside of sukuna.
whenever you’re around him, he finds himself drawn by your presence. he wants you to stay by his side all day, and if you aren’t, it’s like gravity is pulling him towards you. sukuna despises it—he craves to possess you, yet also get rid of your entire being. that way he can return to his normal self. the monster he's known as.
“i’ll throw ya away—gonna get a new toy to spend more time with,” the king of curses digs his nails into the back of your knees. the tip of his upper cock glides back and forth over your clit, teasing the bundle of nerves until it’s burning. you’re losing yourself in both pleasure and pain.
the hurtful words don’t seem to affect you. you still look up at him like he’s your everything—like he’s the reason you exist. sukuna turns furious the moment he notices that his threats don’t seem to work. you’re impossible and he hates that which he cannot control.
he cuts off any air that may enter your lungs. your eyes widen and your fingers tug at his wrist so he’d let loose, but alas. you’re going to lose consciousness without a doubt. tears stream down your cheeks, though not because of the hopelessness you’re feeling.
“i do not need you anymore,” sukuna says gruffly, trying to convince himself of that statement as well. he never needed anyone else during his entire lifetime, so why would he need you? he can replace you with any another woman.
your body goes limp. sukuna’s voice is muffled as you enter a state of half consciousness. you’re at the bridge between life and death. your eyes catch a glimpse of the faint struggle in his eyes.
he looks like a monster through and through, visibly acting like one too. though you’re able to catch a glimpse of an underlying vulnerability. that part of him that always shows itself when you two are alone—making you feel special because you’re the only one allowed to witness it.
you crack a faint, weak smile. even if you perish right then and there, it’s going to be at the hands of the man you’ve learnt to love. the sorcerer who’s made you feel on top of the world, without him realising it. you’ll forever be thankful for the moments you’ve spent together.
you’ll never forget the times where sukuna has made you feel safe in those same arms that will now be your death.
a tear slides down your temple. you look sukuna in the eyes while you’re seconds away from meeting your end. you show no signs of struggle as he gives you your final command;
“die.”
you close your eyes. your fingers loosen their grip around sukuna’s wrist before you let your hand fall at your side. you’ve accepted your fate with a weary smile, honored to have sukuna be the last thing you see, “understood, my lord.”
you’ve lost feeling in all limbs and your eyelids droop. all you can do is await for death to come collect your soul. it’s dark and you can’t hear a thing anymore. you’re confused when the burning sensation in your lungs returns.
your eyes fly open the moment some oxygen is able to reach your airway again. the harsh fingers around your neck have disappeared, though not without leaving aching marks. you clutch your chest as it hurts to breathe after not being able to for the longest time.
you gasp and cough uncontrollably. you wince and blink the tears away from your eyes, refocusing your vision on the large stature detaching from your side. you’re bewildered to say the least—not realising the reason behind sukuna’s sudden change of heart. he’s sworn to get rid of you, didn’t he?
he told you to die and yet he let you live.
“fuck,” the king of curses groans after he snapped out of the dangerous state he was in. he’s panting snd staring at the hand that was once wrapped around your throat. he’s not looking at you at all.
you feel him pull out which makes you hiss. you sit up, the adrenaline helping your tired body move itself. sukuna is silent, with no emotions apparent on his face. however one thing you can conclude for sure is that he’s caught off guard by his own actions.
he can’t get it out of his head. the vision of you laying beneath him, accepting your doom as told. even on the brink of death, you oblige. you accept his every word. why? sukuna’s head is filled with unanswered questions.
you’re an enigma that he cannot solve.
“out of the way, girl,” sukuna easily shoves you to the side with one hand. he’s still not looking you in the eyes. he refuses to look in the eyes of the one woman whom he tried to kill. the sole woman who seems to accept him for who he is.
you’re the only one who’s able to understand him and yet he tried to get rid of you. perhaps he’s afraid of being understood and accepted. sukuna is fine on his own—there’s no need for anyone by his side.
you manage to get your breathing under control after a couple seconds. you’re still hyperventilating, but it’s getting better. your body shakes as you cover yourself with the sheets, your hair messily covering your vision. you reach a hand out to sukuna, curious about what’s gotten into him, “i’m, ngh- are you okay, m—”
“i said, get out,” the man raises his voice before harshly grabbing your wrist. sukuna pushes you towards the exit of his chambers. you stumble forward and manage to catch yourself by grabbing onto the nearest wall. everything is happening so fast.
you simply nod and grab your robes from the floor. you hurriedly cover yourself before stepping out of the room. you fall to your knees not two steps away into the hallway. your hand flies up to your neck, touching it as if making sure that you’re still alive.
you can’t believe sukuna spared you. if he changed his mind one second later than he originally had, you’d be a lost cause.
tears well up in your eyes as the gravity of the situation settles in. you may have accepted your fate in the heat of the moment, but now that it’s over, you’re left trembling on your own. you can’t shake off that intense look in sukuna’s eyes as he pounded you into the mattress.
he was hungry for your soul. to consume you and not leave any of your bones—to get rid of you so you’re out of his sight and mind.
you sniffle and can’t bring yourself to stand up. you’ve lost strength in your legs because the adrenaline levels in your body have dropped. you slowly crawl over the floor and hope that no one catches you in a pitiful state like this.
you manage to get a couple metres away, though soon find yourself staring at a pair of socks that come into view. you lift your head and the owner of the tabi eventually appears in sight.
“uraume,” your voice is hoarse. you make eye contact with sukuna’s personal chef as they stand before you, their expression unreadable.
the sigh they let out tells you that they’ve expected such an outcome since long ago. without a word, they reach a hand out and help you up.
. . .
it’s been a week since then. uraume has helped you recover from that unfortunate experience. the other concubines didn’t dare talk to you. they’ve noticed the change in sukuna’s behavior after that night he spent with you.
he’s gone on more rampages than he usually does. he’s been killing innocent servants who walked past him while on duty, and visiting nearby villages only to commit mass destruction. his emotions are uncontrollable at this point and no one has a clue on what to do.
the best option is to stay out of sukuna’s sight. and not to mess with you, just in case.
you’ve personally tried to approach him a couple times, but either chicken out or get totally ignored. you really want to talk it out, though it may seem impossible. you’ve evaded death once, you’re not sure if you can do that twice.
you’re currently sitting on a bench in the courtyard as uraume is applying an ointment to your throat. your neck still hurts with every move you make. the strength of sukuna’s hand is not to be underestimated, you know that.
you flinch as they rub the cold liquid over your achy skin. it helps numbing the pain, which is god sent for when you want to sleep. you can easily rest without having to suffer the unbearable discomfort in your neck muscles.
it’s a bit quiet in the garden. it isn’t unusual for uraume to be silent, but you’re aching to talk about what’s bothering you. of course, the oh-so-important subject includes no one other than the king of curses.
you sigh and start rambling about your failed attempts to reconcile your relationship with sukuna. you’re getting frustrated and sad at the situation. you want nothing more than to go back to how things were—with you receiving special treatment.
you miss his voice, his touches, his hair, his skin, his muscles, his eyes, his hugs. . . it’s all too much to bear with. you want the sukuna you know back. you don’t care if he tried to get rid of you. you’ve long understood that it was his primal, unspoken urges that had taken over his brain.
“i don’t know.. he doesn’t want to talk to me nor see me,” you shrug and pout. uraume nods and tilts your chin back gently to get the ointment in every little cranny. you stare up at the bright blue sky, the gentle breeze being comforting, both mentally and physically.
your ears pick up on footsteps behind you. heavy footsteps which you recognise as sukuna’s. you whip your head to the side, perhaps a bit too fast, causing the pain in your neck muscles to return. you hear uraume sigh as they see their hard work go to waste in under a split second.
your eyes are focused on sukuna’s large stature filling out the layout of the garden. uraume politely bows at their master after taking a few steps away from you. they don’t lift their head as sukuna walks past you both.
he doesn’t spare you a glance. it’s like you’re not there at all. you frown and pout, though know better than to make a fool out of yourself and speak up. you watch the man walk into the main building of the estate, his sharp eyes focused on the path ahead, his hands resting inside the sleeves of his black kimono.
once sukuna disappears from your vision, you sigh and slump back against the bench. you look at uraume as they move close to you again, taking a glance at your neck. you huff and cock your head to the entrance of the building, “see! that’s what i mean!”
you’re clearly fed up. you just want to make up. you don’t care about the fact that he nearly killed you in that moment. you simply desire to feel that connection between the two of you again. a complicated relationship with its many ups and downs. it may be toxic, but you crave it.
uraume hums at your worries. they radiate a sense of peace that inevitably calms you down as well. they take a quick glance at the direction where sukuna was last seen. they’ve been serving him ever since decennia back—way before you became his concubine.
they’ve never seen him this conflicted, but they don’t tell you that. uraume looks back at you with a simple nod, trusting that you’ll be fine. if your life has been spared when sukuna was in such an indescribable irrational state of mind, then there’s nothing to worry about.
you’re the only one who’s ever escaped death by his hands. that is an incredible feat by itself.
uraume rubs the oil over your neck again, getting the last spots as they reassure you with one simple sentence; “i’m sure lord sukuna simply requires some time alone.”
. . .
you take uraume’s comment seriously. if sukuna needed time, you’ll give him as much space as possible. and thus it’s been another week ever since then.
it’s a sunday night and you can’t sleep. you get up from your futon and wrap a simple blanket around your body. you can’t be bothered to brush your hair or look proper. no one will be up during this ungodly hour anyway.
you sneak out of your chambers and walk down the long hallways. you slide the door to the courtyard open and step out onto the pavement after putting on your geta. it’s a chilly night with a full moon, perfect weather to take a breather.
you walk around the familiar scenery and crouch down near a patch of flowers. they’re your favorites. sukuna had personally ordered his servants to plant them in the garden after he found out you like them. the memory brings a fond smile to your face.
such small yet meaningful actions never fail to melt your heart. it’s another reason why you want to make up with sukuna. you want to help with whatever he’s struggling with, however you know that man will never accept the aid.
you wish to support him at the very least. you want to show your devotion to him, if that already wasn’t clear to him.
you sigh and stand up. you’re caught up in your own thoughts to realise that someone’s been watching you the entire time. you walk straight forward until you reach the koi pond. you stare at the fish as they float in the clear water.
you wish you could be as carefree as them. you turn around to walk back to your room after it’s getting a bit too cold. you did not expect to bump your head against a hard surface. “ow,” you rub your forehead and look up.
there he stands; the man you’ve been dying to see and speak to. sukuna stares down at you without uttering a word, his sharp eyes finally looking into yours.
“ry— my lord,” you stammer, switching to a more polite stance. you’re thrilled, but the excitement quickly dies down as you remember uraume’s words; he needs time. you don’t want to disturb him, as much as you want to jump into his arms. you bow your head at him, “have a good night.”
your heart hurts as you force yourself away from sukuna. you step away from him and look at the ground as you walk. simply seeing him from up close again has been enough for now. though, your body yearns for more.
a simple touch will suffice. . .
you’re surprised when you feel a tug at the blanket around your shoulders. you stumble back and nearly fall on your bum if it wasn’t for sukuna holding you up. you feel an arm sneak around your waist from behind, surprisingly gentle. much gentle than ever before.
sukuna lowers his head to whisper in your ear. he lets his wet tongue slide over the shell, nibbling at the skin as if reminding himself of your taste, “stay.”
it’s an order, that you can tell. you’re weak for him and thus you obey without a single sign of protest. you feel a sudden sharp sting on the side of your neck which makes you remember what caused it. sukuna seems to notice the same thing.
it’s been getting better, but you still randomly get tingles near your neck area when you move it around too much. you silently push through the pain, which only lasts about a few seconds.
sukuna doesn’t comment on it, but takes a mental note of the sight. he’s recalling that time when you’ve nearly died at his hands. his eyes darken at the memory. he’s been trying to process the fact that he’s lost control over himself. those dark urges had taken over his mind and body, nearly consuming him whole.
they’re still hidden inside him—the desires to possess you, crush you, consume and devour your heart, body and soul. they intensify when you’re with him. it doesn’t happen with anyone else.
sukuna still cannot comprehend why you. what does that feeling in his stomach mean whenever he’s with you? it’s irritating, because it confuses him. confusing things which he doesn’t hold the answer over, annoy the king of curses.
an urge to claim someone as his forever, going as far as to want to consume them, is a new feeling to sukuna. it’s an unhealthy obsession that’s started because of you.
is that what humans call love?
he’s thought about it. perhaps, that is the case. but it must be a different type of love—one that’s so overwhelming that it’s dangerous. for both parties involved.
sukuna sighs. thinking about emotions and feelings isn’t his forte—it never really was. it’s stupid and foolish. and yet sukuna feels like a true king whenever you’re with him. your devotion to him sends shivers down his spine in a good way.
it showed two weeks ago. he saw how you accepted your position; your death. it turns him on to see you so submissive and obedient. maybe that’s also a reason why he nearly lost his mind that day.
lust is a scary thing.
sukuna’s lips avoid your neck. he rests his forehead on top of your shoulder, simply standing still against you from behind. the chilly breeze is long forgotten as his large stature protects you from the cold air. you don’t even need your blanket anymore.
you smile in content as you finally get what you want. you don’t even need an apology. hell—you don’t even need any words. this moment is more than enough to rebuild your relationship with the man behind you.
“y’re not going anywhere, yeah?” sukuna says in a low and possessive tone. it’s another command you follow without hesitation. he’s never going to tell you directly, but the lack of your presence has definitely been felt. now that he has you, his favorite concubine, he’s not going to lose you again. he won’t allow it.
you nod at sukuna’s words with a chuckle. you’re happy to be back in his warm embrace. you know that sukuna isn’t one to talk about his own inner turmoil, so you don’t push it.
those dark urges of his are to be discussed another day, if sukuna allows it. for now, this fleeting moment is more than enough. you reply to his order as you always do, to any command that leaves his lips;
“understood, my lord.”

#sttoru writes.#jjk smut#jjk x reader#sukuna smut#sukuna x reader#jjk x you#sukuna x you#jjk x y/n#sukuna x y/n#ryomen sukuna smut#sukuna ryomen smut#jjk angst#sukuna angst
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desire — ryomen sukuna x f!reader


a/n: me? not sticking to the poll? no wayyy 😙 I AM SORRY I COULDNT RESIST HEIAN!SUKUNA X CONCUBINE!READER next up will be the dad one (I hope) <3

the servants jump in fear as they hear yet another loud crash thunder through the hallway. some of them even latch onto the pillars near them, fearing that the shaking ground would crumble right under their feet.
“uraume, another one!” they hear their lord’s voice shout venomously.
they realize that if the collapsing ground doesn’t kill them then there is a possibility that sukuna might do it himself.
for some reason, this morning, sukuna has been in a terrible mood. with the first ray of sunlight, he had slammed the door of the chambers open.
with an ever-permanent scowl, he scanned the hall filled with concubines and servants.
his chest was heaving slowly; his breath almost scalding hot as he breathed out. he looked at uraume and says, “I need five people sent to the vacant room this instant.”
with no other word, he turned and exited the hall, closing the door with a bang.
the servants were wide-eyed, and they frantically looked at each other.
some of them started weeping, scared out of their minds that they might be chosen. others were considering the option of fleeing because what can they do so uraume doesn’t choose them for whatever massacre sukuna was planning?
uraume exhaled lightly, “you have heard lord sukuna,” they stared at the myriad of quivering servants, emotionless, “stand in line.”
and so it was.
now, on the other side of the door is sukuna crushing the skull of yet another servant. he breathes heavily, fury flowed through his veins.
he stares at the pool of blood on the ground, the splatters of it on the walls, and the splashes of it on the ceiling. his jaw tightens as he thinks of the reason of why all of this happened.
yesterday was the first night he had ever spent with you.
of course, that entailed bedding you—the norm for your position—but what had sukuna in a turmoil was the conversations, the words exchanged, and soft touches you had given him before anything.
he had seen you in the estate on occasion, acknowledging you as one of the better looking concubines, but it was only yesterday that he actually interacted with you.
from the moment you entered his room to the moment you left, it was all like none other.
he had never entertained the idea of making conversations with his concubines as they only had one purpose—to serve him. on days when he was in a good mood, he would tease, speak lowly, anything to get a reaction.
all of that was to fuel his own pleasure, since he hated stagnancy.
to your luck, though, yesterday, he felt very pleased—whispers of it being caused by defeating yet another considerably strong opponent. so, he talked to you.
“so, what’s your name?” he asked, small smirk playing on his face, when you were first brought into the room. pretty little thing you were seated in front of him, eyes not knowing where to look and trying to keep in mind all the instructions uraume told you.
he expected you to be meek, bordering on shy.
however, despite maintaining humility as you were told, you spoke your name with pride, and for the first time since you entered, you looked him in the eyes.
he should’ve had you killed for that little act; however, he noted that you immediately averted your eyes after it. perhaps, it’s your way of screaming ‘remember me’, a way to engrave yourself into his memory even for a millisecond.
it had sukuna smiling smugly before commenting, “you’re quite bold…and peculiar,” he rested his chin on his palm, “did they not inform you to not look me in the eyes unless you’re told to?”
you straightened your shoulders and spoke carefully, “I was, but I was taught by my parents to be prideful of who I am.”
“and pride is a good thing for servant to display in front of their king?”
your eyebrows furrowed, and you pursed your lips, mumbling, “no—but I was born like this, my lord, so I apologize.”
he chuckled, hand holding your face and moving it with ease, “I should have you decapitated for that attitude.”
your eyes drifted to the window, but the nail that sunk lightly into your cheek snapped you back to reality. sukuna scowled, “look at me when I speak to you.”
“didn’t you say that I am not to do that, my lord?” you asked, looking him straight in the eyes.
“I changed my mind,” he grined devilishly, “you complaining?”
“I could never.”
he leaned closer to you and whispers, “smart girl.”
and so, the night went as he took you for himself. what surprised him in the whole ordeal is that he found himself being just a tad bit gentler when tears prickle at the corner of your eye.
he actually spoke to you through it, but what resonated with him the most is what happened after.
you slowly gathered your robes with all the strength you can muster. however, sukuna called out from his position on the bed, “did I order you to leave?”
you blinked in confusion and spluttered, “b-but uraume said that you don’t like—”
“and my orders are above uraume’s: you are to stay until I tell you to leave.”
you clutched your belongings to your chest. you felt your heart squeeze in a bit of fear and excitement. you have been caught off guard by him more than once already.
you had come in expecting a ruthless and painful night, but it was surprisingly pleasant.
the little talk before it was also easier on your heart than you had assumed. you thought that he wouldn’t even bother talking to you and would just take you like an animal as you have heard the concubines bellow and wail.
so when a thumb was wiping away your tears and a hand was holding your waist with a light touch, you wondered whether the man you were with was truly the king of curses, the man that everybody was screaming and thrashing about.
though, you felt that it might be a test of some sort—something to make you lower your guard before he can do what he truly wanted.
so, with that in mind, you spoke up, “but my lord, I can’t possibly stay in your own chambers; that would be disrespecting you.”
he grunted, a frown making its way to his face, “I decide what’s disrespectful and what isn’t, so you better make your way here, before you regret it,” his eyes flashed with a threat, “I don’t have the time to deal or put up with your every objection.”
instantly, you scurried to the bed where he is comfortably laying down while propping body up on his elbow.
you stood just by the bed and asked, “where would you like me to—”
his hand held your forearm and pulled you right beside him, so you’re laying by his side and still looking up at him. he smirked down at you, “you ask too many questions.”
you didn’t know what to do with your hands. they gripped your kimono while you murmured, “sorry.”
he sighed and with a roll of his eyes, he hummed, “you will stay with me until midnight; you are to entertain me until then.”
you looked at him in shock then you looked at the window. your mouth hung open before you snapped your head back to him, “but the sun has only just set.”
with a raise of his eyebrows and a small smirk, he inquired, “you planning on disobeying me?”
“never!”
“then get to it.”
and you did, gathering all the stories, anecdotes, poems, and songs you can think of to fill the time. during your hours with him, you find out that sukuna is a man of interest in literature.
and there were multiple times where you would talk about a story, assuming that he doesn’t know it only for him to continue the telling of the story himself.
during your hours with him, you saw that he is not completely disregarding of people around him. you saw that he acknowledges those who are truly strong. you saw that he wants to make a world that is whipped to satisfy his own desires.
his rampages are not completely based off of bloodlust.
during your hours with him, you felt content in a way you never thought you could experience with him of all people.
but, during his hours with you, sukuna has never felt so conflicted yet so satisfied. satisfaction should be something good for him, as he only does what he pleases.
if your company is what pleases him then your company shall be what he gets, right?
but why your company? why are you different? why is his pleasuring dependent on you and your talking and not the death that he could bring you?
he was confused and annoyed, yet he was content at the same time. he was so caught up in you that midnight had fallen to him suddenly. he only noticed when the moon’s light hits your face, and your face has never been clearer—even under the sun.
he noted each and every delicate feature, and he frowned because why is he doing it? what does he get from it? he needed time for himself to think this through.
he needed to know why does he feel this way and only from a night spent with you?
surely, you had done something.
so, he silently raised his hand, and you paused right away. your hands settled on your lap, and your smile slowly turned into a thin line, one that’s nervous as you await his next order. he looked up at you, eyes burning.
he then commanded you sternly, “leave.”
you nodded, wasting no time in gathering your things and scurrying out of the chambers but without a small and hesitant, “good night, my lord.”
sukuna’s eyes widened a fraction as he looked up at the door closing behind you. he groaned, throwing his back. he figured that he could just think about it in the morning when he wakes up, but the thing is
he doesn’t wake up
because he doesn’t sleep.
thoughts flooded with images of you, your voice, and your touch to the point that no slumber was he granted. it drove him insane. he is the king of curses; he shouldn’t be tied to a thought of one person, a mere concubine at that.
he racked his brain for the cause of it, but he couldn’t think of any. since the moment you came in till the moment you went out, he had kept his eyes on you.
he thought it was to make sure that you don’t do anything foolish, but he doesn’t know when did his eyes follow you just for you.
so, with anger swirling in his gut, he got up and did what he can to quench his anger, and that’s how everything got this point:
him standing in the middle of the—formerly vacant—room that is now filled with flesh and painted with blood and you who is treading through the gardens with a blissful smile.
your thoughts wander to the night before as you reminisce every soft touch and every little praise you were granted, and it lifts your mood even more.
unaware of the chaos that happened in your absence, you entered the hall where half of the people have disappeared.
your eyebrows furrow, and you look at the weeping ladies, “where are the rest?”
hiccups are all you hear, and eyeshot eyes are what you see. their sobs are unseizing even as they look you in the eye. you hear light footsteps behind you, so you turn and see uraume standing at the door.
they look you in the eye, “are you y/n?”
you nod slowly, and they hum, “lord sukuna has requested for your presence.”
you light up considerably while the other concubines shake in fear as their eyes dart to you. one of them jumps out of her place and latches at you, “no! no! don’t go! he will—”
“silence!” uraume snaps.
the lady holding onto you quickly lets go and crawls back to hide behind the others.
she grips tightly onto the shoulder of the woman in front of her, tears streaming down her face as she is faced with uraume’s sneer.
uraume looks up at you and affirmed, “go.”
after a while, you finally find yourself face to face with the entrance of sukuna’s chamber.
you take a deep breath, and you carefully push the door and speak up softly, “my lord, you called for me?”
you feel a hand roughly clutch your arm and snatches you inside. you are then slammed against the wall. you let out a yelp as pain shoots up your spine.
you squeeze your eyes shut, afraid of the sight that you will see.
and even though you can’t see his eyes, you can feel the heat from his glare. the venom dripping from his voice doesn’t help as he sneers, “what have you done?”
you force your eyes open slowly, and you stutter, “w-what?”
a hand flies to your throat and is wrapped securely around it. you choke out a small, “my lord!”
his grip tightens, and you feel tears form in your eyes and flow down your face.
more than ever, you feel the fear that his looming figure sends through everybody else, you feel the fire of his red eyes scorch your skin, and you feel the aura that everybody talked about.
an overwhelming evil.
“I don’t understand what game you’re playing, but you better stop it this instance,” he threatens, and you let out a sob.
“what game, my lord? I don’t understand!” you manage to choke out.
your hear him let out a breath before he says lowly, “I have told you that desires and pleasures are fluctuating, right?”
fearing for your life, you nod desperately. you feel his grip loosen, and he leans down to rest his forehead on your own.
with furrowed brows and a deep scowl, his eyes bore into your own as he holds your face up with his other hand, “then why do I still desire you?”
you blink owlishly at him then speak cautiously, “didn’t you say that you take what you desire?”
he raises an eyebrow, urging you to continue. slowly and hesitantly, you raise your hand to cup his face.
you look him up in the eyes, and you find them following your every moment. “then what’s wrong with,” you hesitate, “with taking this one?”
you look innocent as you look up at him, but to him, your words are nothing but.
with a low chuckle, he pulls your face closer to his own, “temptress,” and he seals your lips with his.

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𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐅𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 — 𝐂.𝐒.
Synopsis: Chris tries to decide whether he likes giving or receiving more...
Warnings: Smut, pussy devouring (boderline cannibalism), sucking a monster cock ig.
With love and big tits, Rose
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Chris couldn’t tell what he loved more.
The sight of his cock pushing past your lips was heavenly, the feeling of your tongue swirling around and around….he would never be able to feel it enough.
But, he also loved staring up at you – watching you falling apart and tasting every ounce of your pussy, devouring you until you could only scream for him, writhing under his tongue like it’s the entire purpose of your existence.
Give or receive?
He didn’t know which one was better. No matter how many times he tried to decide, he just couldn’t keep the same answer. They were both so good, so necessary.
He wanted to take it all.
01: Trapped in paradise
It felt like a dream. Every kiss had led up to this moment. Your clothes had been thrown to the floor one by one, his lips buckling on your skin as his mouth started to water just at the mere thought of what was to come.
“Chris, I…” The hesitance in your voice makes him stare up at you. His lips take a brief pause from kissing along your inner thigh, a burning sensation that only makes the heat grow in the pit of your gut.
He licks over his lips, his mind urging him to keep kissing every part of you. “What is it, sweetheart? Do you not want this?” he purrs, his hands massaging your hips as his stubble brushes along the reddened skin of your inner thigh.
It was stupid question, really. He could already see how wet you were, dripping onto his sheets – making a complete mess. But he didn’t care. He wanted you to be even messier.
“No, no, I,” your hands scrunch in his hair. Chris flutters his eyes shut, appreciating the touch before looking directly up at you with soft, but hungry eyes. “-’m just nervous,” you explain.
Shaking his head, Chris leans his head to rest completely on your thigh. The gentle hair from his jaw scratches with delicacy, a certain kind of sensation that makes you even more aware of just how close he is. And his eyes….they tell you how bad he wants this, how bad he truly wants you.
Most guys would try for sex – or even receiving head first. Not Chris though. He had voiced how bad he wanted this numerous times, how badly he wanted to just make you feel good.
“Don’t gotta be nervous, baby,” he soothes, his nose tracing from your knee down, pausing right in front of your bare pussy, “-just wanna take care of you – take care of my girl,” he says, semi talking to himself. You’re his girl, you’re this wet for him. All he wants is to ease the ache, the ache that he had caused so pridefully.
“Do you trust me?” His eyes peer up into yours as you nod your head, your hips squirming as you feel the tension between your legs start to make you dizzy.
Chris can’t help but smile, kissing onto the upper part of your folds. You trust him. That alone is enough to make his emotions seep into his actions, his lips kissing you open-mouthed and sloppily, the same way he does to you when making out.
“Oh – ” The surprised moan floats from your lips as he uses his fingers to gently spread you open, baring everything to him in a clear sight.
A subtle laugh vibrates against your clit as he starts to circle his tongue around the nub. Your head digs backward into the soft pillows, your hands tugging on his hair as you feel your lower stomach clench in knots.
Every muscle feels like fire. You’re caught up in how everything feels, too distracted to care about the noises spilling out of your mouth. All you know is this feels good – it feels passionate.
“Mmmmmm,” Chris hums into you, an unfamiliar boost of pleasure that leaves your hands tugging in his hair even harder, only amplifying a groan from him. “Harder, baby,” he rasps, out of breath of heaving as he reattaches his mouth lustfully to your pussy.
Consumed in euphoria, your body responds for you, tangling even further in his messy locks of hair as you let your thighs shake and quiver, holding him against you. But he’s not going anywhere.
“Good girl,” he husks, his fingers groping into your sides as he lets himself push even further into you, his nose swiveling against your puffy clit, your body writhing and making it hit all the right spots.
“I – Chris!” you scream, crossing your legs behind his head. He’s so hard it hurts. His dick is pulsing painfully as you hold him in place, clear desperation from your body making him absolutely overwhelmed with pleasure and emotions.
“-’m not going anywhere, sweetheart,” he seethes, hissing as your nails scratch against his scalp with a brutal greed. “-not going anywh –” He doesn’t even bother to finish his sentence. Chris is too drunk off of you to hold himself back, feeding into your song of moans and screams with his tongue and lips rushing and licking every inch of your pussy.
The knot gathering in your gut is unbearable. Chris feels your heels dig into his back, his nose being crushed as your hips flex upwards. The piercing scream of his name being uttered like a mantra has his eyes rolling into the back of his head. He can’t even think – all he can do is give you everything.
And more.
Your stomach twists, your walls convulsing around his tongue as your body starts to lessen with tensing your muscles.
Chris can’t help it. He feels a warmth spill in his briefs, sticky cum coating his shaft as he continues to grind himself into the mattress.
He’s so drunk off of you. The look on your face, the sight of you absolutely ruined for him…this is his favorite.
Right?
02: Second guessing
In between your thighs had always been his safe haven. He loved getting to abuse you with his tongue, letting himself get completely lost in you – all over you.
“Can I please?”
You begged. Chris had never seen you want something so bad. He’s not sure what exactly prompted the desire, but he wasn’t complaining…not when he had you like this.
“Shit,” he seethes through his teeth, his hand starting to gently tangle in your hair as you get adjusted.
You looked absolutely perfect like this, kneeling and looking up at him as you place kisses onto the vein running up and down his shaft. He’s so sensitive. All he can do is feel and you’re making him feel so much.
“You wanna suck it now, baby?” he asks, his chest rising and falling with intensity as he stares down at you.
You nod. Chris feels his chest get even lighter watching you lean forward, giving his tip a kiss before parting your lips. “Yeah,” he gently grazes your hair behind your ear with his free hand, trying to gather as much as he can with his other in a messy make-shift ponytail. “-jusstt like that, sweetheart.”
His length glides on your tongue. You use your hands to slide up and down his cock, not being able to take it all in one go. But Chris doesn’t mind. He loves the mess starting to drool from your lips.
“Such a good girl – fuck, doin’ so good,” he praises. His hand holding your hair is firm, but only glides with your own motions. You go to look up at him, heat pooling between your legs as you watch his stomach tense as you let yourself take more of his length into your mouth. “-ah, fuck,” he spits, his grip twisting lightly in your hair to ground himself.
He can’t last long. Everytime you take more of his cock in your mouth, he feels himself edging closer and closer. All he can do is feel – all he can do is worship the sight of you on your knees, so vulnerable for him.
“Oh my god, baby,” his hands cautiously pull you back, just enough for you to look back up at him. “-take it all, yeah? You can do that for me, can’t you sweetheart?”
His lip hurts from how hard he bites it. A long moan pushes through his lips, his hands tightening in your hair. You’re taking all of him. Everything he has to give, you’re greedy for it all, bobbing your head up and down with a pace that makes his chest pull inward.
“Gonna – gonna c-cum,” he rasps, trying to pull you back by your hair, but you just push yourself forward, his throbbing cock sliding down your throat over and over again as he feels his balls tighten. “-fuck, you want it, baby?”
He can’t tell if you’re bobbing your head more aggressively or nodding. The slight pat you spare on his thigh tells him to go ahead, his cum spilling down your throat as you try to keep yourself relaxed.
“Fuckkkkkk,” he throws his head back, his hips flexing to keep his length buried down your throat. It’s so warm, so intimate – he gets to do this, he’s the only one that gets to have you on your knees, so intent on giving him every sensation you can.
Slightly dizzy, Chris slowly pulls his cock away from your lips. His mouth drops open, his eyes bulging as he sees subtle remnants of his cum dripping from the corners of your mouth. And fuck, it’s his favorite thing to see – to worship in hopes that it will forever stay imprinted in his mind.
“You,” he tries to catch his breath, petting your hair back from your face, “-you’re so fuckin’ pretty for me – like this,” he purrs, his hand coming down to swipe the white liquid back into your mouth.
Greedy. You’re still so fucking greedy. Your lips seal around the digit, your tongue quickly swirling around his finger as you stare up at him, just like you had with his cock not too long ago.
“Oh my god.”
He’s completely helpless to how he feels. Obsession travels through his veins while he takes everything in – the sight of you on your knees, just desperate to give him every ounce of euphoria you can.
This is his favorite. It has to be his favorite.
But, he changes his mind every time. Whatever day, whatever position – that’s his favorite.
You’re his favorite.
#bbs.chris.fics.favs#·˚ ༘ ʚ rose toy 𖧧#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo x reader#the sturniolo triplets#sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#chris sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo headcanon#chris sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo x reader#christopher sturniolo smut#sturniolo headcannons#sturniolo imagine#sturniolo smut#sturniolo triplets smut#sub!chris sturniolo
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SET ME ALIGHT AGAIN.
Cregan Stark x female!Targaryen!Reader (Part 2 here)



"It was on request of your younger brother's small council that Lord Cregan Stark agreed to take you to the North with him to prevent you from succumbing to grief like your aunt did. And now it's at his hands that the haze in your eyes is replaced by an emotion you haven't felt in so long, an emotion he’s giving back to you. And you let it flood you."
WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT—MDNI; p in v, oral (fem receiving), angst (?), breeding kink, size kink, size difference, romantic fucking in front of the fireplace, afab reader, post dance of the dragons
WORDS: 4.8 K
NOTES: I dedicate this to @sylasthegrim. You're not only one of the few people I really grew fond of in the short time we truly got to know each other, but since both our minds basically came down to the same idea, this is for you! Thanks for beta reading this. 💕
❗️𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!
You’ve been in Winterfell for a moon’s turn by now, and have quickly noticed that the ancestral castle possesses a beauty and calmness the Red Keep can be jealous of. But even that isn’t enough to make you feel at home – as if you could ever call a place your home again. Not after you’ve witnessed almost everyone in your family, no matter whether you liked them or not, perish at the hands of each other.
It was on request of your younger brother, now dubbed King Aegon the third, or rather of his small council that Lord Cregan Stark agreed to take you to the North with him to prevent you from succumbing to grief like your aunt did. And while you’re grateful for the chance to flee the one place that has caused you more hurt than good, riding in a carriage up to the far North like a commoner wasn’t exactly pleasant.
But how else should you have gotten there when your precious mount died along its kind as the common people stormed the Dragonpit?
For the past month, you’ve very rarely seen the sun – or anyone else than your maids.
Your days are spent in your chambers, not leaving the safety of the Guest House as you often try to find the sleep you can’t seem to get at night. And during the night, when the Hour of the Owl strikes and no light other than that of the moon reaches Winterfell, one often finds you wandering the quiet halls of the castle. Sometimes one even spots you outside in the Godswood, regardless of the low temperatures that make the three pools fed by an underground hot spring look even more inviting.
But warmth and comfort are never what you’re after.
You feel incredibly daring tonight, sitting beneath the ancient weirwood tree on one of its roots. Although there is a thick fur coat draped around your frame, the thin nightgown beneath does not allow you to be kept as warm as one usually desires, your bare feet hidden inside of the coat not a big help either.
Tiptoeing barefoot through the snow was the hardest part, but it was worth it as it gave you exactly what your body longs for.
You’re far too absorbed by the reflection of the moon dancing on the pool of black water beneath the tree, and the peaceful allure of the snow-covered night that you don’t notice you’re not alone anymore.
“Princess?” a husky voice rings out from the shadows, one you’d even recognize in a room full of loud and drunken men.
Almost as if he doesn’t want to startle you, the tall frame of the Lord of Winterfell approaches you without any sudden moves, becoming more visible with the moonlight shining down on him. “What are you doing out here this late?”
Only when he’s stopping not far away from you do you avert your eyes from him to the water again. “I could ask you the same, Lord Stark,” you reply softly.
A chuckle rumbles in his chest at your remark, and you can’t help the tint of heat hearing it brings to your cheeks. “Indeed you could,” he says. “I have not slept well, and the night has a peaceful allure. But you should not be out in the open without any guards, especially not this late at night.”
You drag your index finger through the snow at your side, drawing a mindless pattern in the dark as you do not pay any mind to his words. “And why is that, Lord Stark?” you ask, a certain snarkiness to your tone. “There is nothing worse that could happen to me than what I have already endured.”
Cregan sighs, and even in the dim light you can make out that he’s scratching his stubble covered chin. “And yet, should something else happen to you, I would not like myself for neglecting you and not protecting you just as I have sworn to the king,” he explains. “Besides, there is a cold chill in the air that I can not believe you are not feeling right now.”
“Perhaps that is the answer you’ve been looking for, my lord,” you mumble. “Perhaps I came here to feel something.”
The Wolf of the North doesn’t immediately answer you. Instead, there lingers a pause between you. But it’s not uncomfortable or feels as though it doesn't pass, no, you find yourself to actually enjoy his company.
His next words, however, even surprise you as you didn’t think he was capable of it. “Feeling the cold of the snow has its way to make one feel alive, that much is true,” he agrees, and then looks up to the dark sky. “You wish to feel something else than the pain of the absence of the people you’ve lost in this war, I understand… I think.”
His words make the feeling of emptiness, the hollowing ache of loss just worse, while at the same time, he seems to know the feeling of craving pain when you’re just so used to it.
“This cold bite, the chill that lingers on the skin — no one should want to feel it, Princess. It makes even my bones shake, do you know that? Surely you must be shivering, and we should be getting you inside. I should be getting you inside.”
You know he‘s right. While his words are blunt in nature, they are very much that of truth. You shouldn’t be out here, nor should you want to be out here. There‘s nothing to enjoy about this cold chill and the snow, not when you‘re as sparsely dressed as you are. You‘re not yet used to the chill of Winterfell, of the North.
Cregan offers you his hand, but you‘re still hesitant to take it. Albeit you reach out, your significantly smaller hand hovers over his, not yet grabbing it. “You‘re not exactly wearing proper attire to be out in this wretched cold for very long,“ he remarks. “Let me help you get up, your feet must be in agony by now.“
“And what if I don‘t want to?“
“Then I will still get you up.“ There is a tinge of amusement in his voice now, seeing this little bit of rebelliousness from you, your strength of mind. Even if he doesn’t exactly approve of it. “I shall simply pick you up myself, throw you over my shoulder, and carry you inside to your chambers, even though I‘d get you quite angry and don‘t imagine you want me to do just that.“
You don’t believe he actually has the gumption to do something like that at first, although you know he’s able to muster a decent amount of strength that would easily allow him to lift you up. But then, you wonder if he would truly do it if challenged. “Try that, if you dare, my lord.”
He lets out a snort of amusement, enjoying the teasing that slowly shapes between you two. It still is a challenge, and as a man of his station, he could never let words like this go unspoken. “Oh, I dare, Princess.”
Putting forth his arm, he wraps his fingers around your wrist and easily pulls you forwards onto your feet without applying too much pressure. You’re certainly caught off guard by his actual willingness to lift you up, and a squeal escapes your lips before you’re tossed on his strong shoulder as if you are some silly, helpless girl.
Cregan carries you through the Godswood and towards the Guest House, though you don’t resist too much as you’re hanging there over his shoulder – a part of you is grateful you don’t have to walk through the snow with your bare feet once more.
“Lord Stark, put me down at once!” you demand with a little twinge of laughter in your voice. You feel so light, much lighter than you imagine he’s used to lifting up, almost as if it’s taken all of the pressure off your shoulders.
But when there doesn’t come an answer from him, you grow slightly frustrated. “What if anyone sees, you madman!” you remark, embarrassment warming your cheeks.
“Madman? That’s rich coming from the woman who was willing to freeze to death in the snow,” he says jokingly, approaching the large doors. “Who do you think could see us at this hour, princess? The rats? And what if they do? What if someone sees me carrying the poor princess, who had the gall to get out of her bed after midnight and wander the Godswood while in her nightgown?” Although there is amusement in his voice, you also notice the faintest hint of flirtation laced within. “Will they judge me for carrying her, or would they judge her for her imprudent midnight excursion?”
You stay silent thrown over his shoulder, not sure how to reply. You thought you had a good comeback, but it seems Cregan is one step ahead of you. The flirtatious teasing you’ve heard catches you off guard, not expecting to hear it from him at all. It makes your cheeks flush with even more embarrassment when you notice that he’s actually right. But you don’t want to admit the truth in what he’s said.
“You mock me, but you shall see there would be much scandal if someone were to see this,” you retort, trying to keep calm as you’re now a little bit flustered by these sudden developments. “Besides,” you say, trying to remain unbothered and nonchalant, “who says I won’t tell a tale of you being the imprudent one?”
“Ah, you little rascal,” Cregan replies with a chuckle, giving your thigh a tight squeeze. “I see you’d find a way to turn the tides and have it end up with me being the bad guy, taking my chances on a vulnerable woman in the guise of protecting her.”
You’re clearly enjoying the teasing a tad too much, enjoying these quick and witty back-to-backs with him, taking your mind off of your grief. Drawing in a deep breath, you hold onto Cregan’s thick coat. “What would you have been protecting me from, Lord Stark?” you ask with feigned innocence. “Were the trees too menacing that you just had to sweep me off my feet to carry me away from their clutches?”
“No, I am afraid it was not the trees that had me worried, Princess,” Cregan replies as he brings you further into the Guest House, easily opening the door to the sleeping quarters with one hand. “The cold was the greater menace, and it had you in its grasp.”
Your words die in your throat when he puts you down on your bed, the soft furs very welcomed beneath your cold feet. You look up at him with wide eyes and a heaving chest as he towers over your significantly smaller frame, and you wait for him to make the next move.
There’s a moment of silence between you, obviously he’s considering his next words.
And boy do they disappoint you. “I shall make sure a fire is lit for you to warm yourself, princess,” he says, turning around to approach the hearth on the other side of the room.
Cregan crouches down to build and start a small fire in the hearth that should last the night, not wanting you to stay too cold. But you wouldn’t be a thoroughbred dragon if it didn’t mean for you to take any risks. And so you get onto your cold feet, the coat still draped around your shoulders sliding down to the ground.
Feeling a bit too exposed too quickly, you grab one of the thick fur blankets laying on your bed instead and wrap it around your frame, before you tiptoe towards the large wolf kneeling in front of the fireplace.
“I have something different in mind,” you speak softly. Cregan, startled by your words and your sudden approach, turns around and faces you as he rises to his feet. You reach and bury your hands in the collar of his coat, the blanket falling to the ground in the process, and when you use your grip to pull him close, you find that he does not shy away in the least – if anything, he follows the tug to connect your lips in a heated kiss.
He brings his large hands to your waist with ease, and presses his body against yours. The wolf feels like he’s drowning in you, in your lips, your warmth, your presence and scent. Wanting to lose himself in the moment, in you, his hands wander lower to your hips.
“I did not expect you to do this tonight,” he breathes against your lips, breaking the silence.
“And I did not expect some things from you tonight either,” you reply, breathlessly, voice breaking with every breath you take. “Is that a bad thing?”
His voice is low and smooth as he speaks, shaking his head. “Quite the contrary.” There is a flirtatious smile on his lips, and a playfulness you haven’t seen before in his gray eyes. It’s as if that small spark between you has quickly evolved into an inferno that now burns bright in the both of you.
It’s a fierce and burning kiss when your lips connect once more, fueled by the fires coursing through your veins. You release a soft whimper with his large paws trailing over your sides, feeling the fabric of your nightgown.
“If we continue this, I won’t be able to stop myself,” he rasps.
You tilt your head back to look at him, a cheeky grin on your lips. “Perhaps I do not want you to.”
Cregan’s eyebrows raise at your reply, and you feel his hands tighten around your waist once more. He can’t help but feel a jolt of arousal run down his back, which prompts him to release a low chuckle. “Well, if you wish for it that much…” he whispers in response, before pulling you back toward him, kissing you passionately.
A breathless chuckle slips past your lips as you pull back from him, licking your kiss swollen lips. “But there are a few things we need to get you out of first,” you tease, tugging at the thick, furry coat that’s draped over his broad shoulders.
“Are you this eager to have your hands over all of me?” he replies with a flirtatious smirk, but still unclips the coat and lets it fall to the ground. He doesn’t mind you seeming quite intent to get him out of his armor, allowing you to fumble with the clasps and buckles, and eventually helps you remove the heavy bits until he’s left wearing nothing but his breeches. But even those are quickly unlaced by you, left to be a puddle around his feet.
“My my, do you not feel a little too hot still, Lord Stark?” you tease, letting your fingers wander over his exposed stomach. You can’t help but feel warmth creeping onto your cheeks as you see him in such little clothing, so exposed. He’s a muscular man, tall and large, and the sight of his bare skin with the dark of hair on his chest and a trail of it running below his undergarments is a welcoming one.
Through the linen you see that he’s already hard and begging, waiting for you to take things further. Truly a shame you seem to relish in the teasing.
Goosebumps prickle on his skin in the wake of your finger, making you smile. You drag your finger along the waistband of his undergarments, hooking it beneath to tug on it. He knows what you desire, and he’s not ashamed to give you just that. “I do not see you so eager to remove your own clothes, Princess,” he teases, undoing the laces in the front for his undergarments to join his breeches. “It is hardly fair you want to see all of me, yet I am not allowed to do the same.”
You take in a sharp breath at the sight of his hard cock, standing to full attention. It has you licking your lips. Batting your eyelashes at him, you’re quick to pull your nightgown over your head, a smirk on your lips. A flimsy piece of linen conceals what lies between your legs, but it’s still enough for him to all but devour your almost bare frame.
“There,” you whisper, “now we are on equal grounds.”
Cregan takes a moment to look over you, licking his lips at the sight of your breasts fully exposed mto him. He knows you’re no maiden who’s completely untouched, you wouldn’t be as confident if you were, but it doesn’t stop him from appreciating the sight in front of him.
“Equal grounds, truly?” he asks you, taking a step toward you. One arm snakes around your waist, pulling you against him, as his other hand fists the linen of your smallclothes. “I think you still have an advantage over me, Princess. Because I have yet to see what lies beneath your undergarments.”
Your palms rest flatly against his chest, and you press a chaste kiss to his skin. “I will not stop you, Lord Stark,” you whisper, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes.
“Then let’s make these ‘equal grounds’ a little bit more equal, hm?” Cregan whispers as well. He sinks to his knees with his mouth trailing a path down your body, licking and kissing over your skin until he reaches your navel. His large hands trail over your sides and thighs on his way down, the movement and sight making your breath hitch in your throat.
A shudder ripples through your body as he tugs your smallclothes down your legs, and while you watch him with your hands buried in his dark curls, his eyes are all but focused on what’s between your legs.
He drapes one of your legs over his broad shoulder, his dark blown eyes darting up to meet yours, and before you can make any teasing remark, his mouth is on you. A gasp catches in your throat. “Cregan, please,” you whimper, forgetting all courtesies the moment his tongue drags through your slit. There’s no softness, no gentleness in the way he all but devours your cunt, the previous teasing having made his patience run thin.
Your head tips back in pleasure as his tongue alternates between sliding into you and swirling around your pearl, noticing both options have you grind your hips against his face. The tip of his nose rubs so perfectly against your pearl when his mouth pays attention to your entrance, and Cregan’s fingers dig into your flesh with your body tensing up already, keeping you steady.
The Wolf of the North growls against your cunt as if he’s truly turned into one, devouring you with all he’s got, the sheer pleasure brought by his tongue and lips taking over you.
As you look down at him again, you find him already staring up at you, watching you carefully as you slowly but surely unravel on his tongue. It’s intense, but you’re captivated enough not to break eye contact.
“Gods, yes, I–” you whimper, and fall apart all over his tongue with a shudder. If it wasn’t for Cregan’s paws on your body, you would have lost balance by now, especially with the way he seemed to work his tongue in and out of you faster just in rhythm to his nose rubbing your pearl.
He pulls away from you slowly as your peak subsides, and with his beard and lips glistening with the remnants of your arousal, how could you not pounce on him right then and there?
He supports his body with one arm placed on the ground and stretches his legs as you push yourself against him, wrapping your arms around his strong neck. The taste of yourself on his tongue makes you moan against his lips before you deepen the kiss.
Cregan’s hard cock is nestled between your bodies, and you can’t resist wrapping your hand around it, stroking him once, twice, before you shift your hips and slowly sink down on him.
Muscular arms completely wrap around your waist, making you very well aware of the size difference between the two of you. You’re significantly smaller than him, and relish in the feeling of being safe and protected with him around. You two haven’t been too close upon your arrival in the North, but it seems that there has been a hidden attraction lingering for quite some time.
You know your hips would sooner or later become sore from pumping him with your core, hence you stick to rocking your hips back and forth with his cock stuffed deep inside you. It’s intimate and slow, but with the coarse hairs around the base of his cock dragging over your pearl with each swivel of your hips, you’re still racing for completion.
While he mouths along your jaw and the curve of your throat, one of his hands comes up to cup your breast. Rolling the perky bud between his index finger and thumb, the slight sting works wonders to amplify the pleasure coursing through your veins.
“By the Seven,” you whimper, grinding your hips against him with more determination.
There comes a sharp hiss in return from him, barely audible between the open mouthed kisses he presses to your collar bones. You’re clawing at his shoulders and neck by now, scratching it despite the sensuality of your movements, and it feels as though you’re even drawing blood. But he doesn’t care about that – he rather enjoys having a woman that doesn’t hold back.
Trailing his lips up to your throat, he nudges your chin with his nose, prompting you to tip your head back. “It’s not them you need to pray to right now, Princess,” Cregan rasps, a clear strain to his voice. “But perhaps I should take that as a compliment, hm?”
His words cause you to chuckle, and you’re grateful that he’s quickly distracted by kissing your throat again, because otherwise he might have noticed the heat his words bring to your cheeks. “If that is…” you trail off panting, burying your hand in his curls to tug his head back, forcing him to look up at you. The sight of his dark blown eyes hungrily gazing at you sends a shiver down your spine. You feel desired. “If that is a compliment, then I shall have to say it much more often.”
You’re not sure if it’s the fact you state wanting to compliment him more often, or if he’s just not used to having an appreciative lover in general, but your words seem to flip a switch inside of him. You quickly find yourself lowered on the fur blankets, warming your back while the flames heat up your skin and Cregan your blood.
Nestled between your legs, he’s growing more determined now, the sensual rocking of your hips clearly not enough for him, but you don’t mind it. As much as you enjoy being in control, setting the tone, you also revel in following the lead.
He’s propped up on one elbow, supporting himself as he thrusts into you, rolling his hips that make his cock drag so expertly against the sweet spot inside of you.
With one hand, you hold onto his broad shoulder, digging your nails into his skin, while the other gropes at his chest, teasing his bud just like he’s done with yours before. The feeling of his coarse hairs beneath your fingers feels somewhat strange at first, for Aemond hasn’t had as much chest hair as Cregan does, but it’s also comforting.
The familiar coil in the pit of your belly tightens slowly with his hips snapping into yours over and over again, split open by his hard cock.
“Will you fill me up, my lord?” you moan breathily, arching your back with your breasts pressing against his sturdy frame.
Cregan releases a choked groan at the question, and for a moment you can feel his hips stutter. You briefly wonder if you’ve pushed your luck too far, especially with him not replying immediately, until his raspy voice cuts through the heavy pants and moans.
“Only if you let me take you to wife, Princess.”
You inevitably clench down around him as a small, hiccuped gasp catches in your throat, resulting in Cregan drawing in a sharp breath. The haze in your eyes is replaced by an emotion you haven't felt in so long, an emotion he’s now giving back to you. And you let it flood you.
Your hand comes from his chest to his biceps, holding onto it as you gather your thoughts. His hips haven’t slowed down one bit, and he’s truly expecting you to answer as if he wasn’t repeatedly impaling you on his cock right now.
Staring up at him with wide eyes, your voice isn’t any louder than a whisper. “It would be foolish of me to turn this offer down,” you reply.
An impish smirk dances along Cregan’s features. “Is that meant to be a yes?”
“Y-Yes, it is, “ you whimper beneath him, arching your back once more.
The warmth of his body, his weight and scent cloud your every being, and his thrusts are determined and harsh enough to render you speechless, your mind and body completely claimed by him.
His hand snakes between your bodies, aiming for your sensitive pearl. Though the coarse hair around his cock has granted you at least a bit of friction, it’s not enough to bring you to your peak. His thumb circles over the little bud, fully coated with your arousal, and the thread in your belly is close to snapping.
“Then I just might,” he grunts in return.
Your body jerks at the sudden touch, but his muscular frame between your legs is enough to keep you pinned to the ground. “I need you… Cregan,” you whimper, bringing a hand behind his head to pull him down for a heated kiss. Your lips hardly part to release whimpers and moans, swallowing each other’s sounds of pleasure without any shame. “Let me give you a spare.”
It appears that your words give him a new-found vigor that leaves you gasping, the pace of his hips increasing. As you start to roll your hips against his thumb, you not only create some friction that feeds your pleasure but his as well. It’s not long after that your peak washes over you with a soft gasp, walls clenching around him like a vice.
With your small frame trembling between his strong arms, Cregan releases a strained grunt, his own peak being milked out of him by your cunt fluttering around his cock. He keeps on dragging his thumb over your sensitive pearl, prolonging your peak and the pleasure that comes with it.
You stare up at him with wide eyes as you’re milking him for every drop, because there’s something so vulnerable in this wolf of a man, towering over you with his skin glistening with sweat, so desperate to fill you with his seed and breed you.
The last jolts of his peak force him to languidly rut his hips into yours, desperately chasing the feeling of bliss that courses through your veins. His chest heaves with every heavy breath he takes, and the dark curls are damp and fall into his face.
Only as Cregan is certain there’s not one drop of his seed left inside of him does he slowly stop his ministrations, and the hand that has toyed with your bud seizes your hips, stilling them.
His erratic breaths fans over your sweaty skin with his lips pressing to your temple. The feeling of being whole with him doesn’t leave you, not when his weight pins you down and keeps you grounded, easing your tumbled mind.
“I shall welcome the arrival of any child you bear me,” Cregan says, inevitably breaking the silence.
A smile spreads across your lips as you wrap your legs around his hips, and your arms around his neck. “Be careful what you wish for. My children will certainly be just as stubborn as me.”
His heart is practically pounding against his ribs, and he can feel himself on the verge of being lost by your touch alone again. You make him go wild and feral, your bold and flirtatious nature bringing out another side to him that’s completely unexpected. And yet it feels so right.
The teasing banter brings a smile to his lips and a light to his gray eyes, your wit and humor shining through. “Let them be stubborn, then,” he chuckles, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. “They only need to be half as feisty as you, and I shall be the happiest man in Winterfell.”
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tutor!jisung x reader
genre: smut (minors dni 18+), college au, fingering, reader is bad at math but not that dumb, jisung is a bit manipulative.
wc: 2.1k
synopsis: since your finals were coming up, you desperately needed a tutor. so doing what every normal person would do, you asked the top student for help, but his idea of studying under pressure was far from what you had imagined.
authors note: tysm for over 1k notes on practice makes perfect!!! i never expected to get this amount on my first post, i couldn’t be more grateful…🥹 i’ll try my best to post more!! i hope you like this too hehe
➶ 。˚ ° ──────────────────
you tried your best to keep up in lectures, finish assignments on time, bullshit your way through the discussion boards, but when it came to exams, you were a lost cause.
"ugh, i don't get it at all!" you groan and drop your pen onto the notebook while pressing a hand to your forehead out of frustration. all the formulas you went over are slipping from your mind, no matter how hard you try to focus.
jisung exhales and shakes his head as he's closing his laptop that’s decorated in space and alien stickers. "no, this isn't working out." he says and leans back against the wall. "we need to try a different method."
as he opens the textbook which replaces the laptop and starts flipping through the pages, you flop backward onto his bed and sigh so loudly that the vibrations shake the empty glass of water on the table.
the noise makes his head turn towards you. at first, it’s like as if he’s studying you; his eyes on you, scanning, thinking, calculating.
you can feel the piercing gaze burning holes in your skin. you suddenly think of searching study methods online, but before you grab your phone, you feel the mattress dip under his weight.
he moves closer to you, so close that his thigh is pressed against yours and you can feel his warmth seep through your shorts. you almost freeze for a second. “jisung—“
he cuts you off with a “shh.” he’s acting like this between you is completely normal, like you two were always used to sharing such intimate contact.
while you’re confused, embarrassed and don’t know what’s going on, he’s focused, unbothered and calm. it’s like as if he has something figured out.
as you were staring into his eyes, you felt his hand move to your thigh, slowly, as if he was testing how far he could go. just below the hem of your shorts, his warm fingers press against your skin.
“…what are you doing?” you manage to blubber out, because you didn’t trust yourself to speak.
“trying something else,” he says and his thumb brushes, which makes you shiver.
this is new, dangerous and completely out of your comfort zone, but you make no effort to move away.
jisung is still studying your face, searching for any sign of resistance, and then he tilts his head. “i thought you said you needed motivation.” your heart skips a beat as you feel his thumb stroke your thigh again, “maybe this will help.”
your mind urges you to say something, ask what the fuck is he doing, tell him to stop, maybe laugh it off… but that would make you dishonest with yourself.
his fingers are still tracing circles slowly against you, still drifting almost beneath the hem of your shorts, never going too far, but never stopping either.
your pulse is pounding in your ears. you swear you can feel your heartbeat everywhere.
“you’re messing with me.” you say with your voice light, almost like you’re expecting him to deny.
he hums and slightly tightens his fingers. “am i?”
you turn your gaze from his hand to his face, but he’s already looking at you. he’s not grinning, not laughing, just watching, like he’s silently asking you, how far can i take this?
your thighs twitch at the sight of him. as your heart won over the small battle with your brain, you exhale and part your legs just enough to give his fingers more access.
jisung notices immediately and his lips curl into something that’s barely a smile. he doesn’t say a word, but his fingers trail further up your inner thigh, in such a measured way that’s enough to make you tremble. “still think i’m messing with you?” he murmurs.
“…no,” you swallow.
“good,” he leans in closer to you and turns your head to the laptop screen, “now focus.” he must’ve turned it on while i wasn’t paying attention, you think to yourself.
a new equation is in front of you, something basic, it’s something you’d usually solve in seconds. but your brain is empty.
“if you get it right,” he whispers, his fingers still massaging your thigh, “i’ll reward you.” his other hand slides across the sheets, pulling the laptop a bit closer.
“but if you get it wrong…” he hums and tilts his head slightly. you can feel his fingers pressing little bit harder. “then we try something else, okay?”
your legs shift as the heat is pooling in your lower stomach, you’re not sure whether you want to get the answers right or wrong.
you try to focus, but all you can think about is the way he’s pressing his fingertips into your skin. the question is simple, you just have to say what’s the derivative of 5x², but your mouth is dry.
you know the answer to it, you two have gone over this theme hundreds of times, but you can’t open your mouth, your mind is completely blank.
“uh—“ your voice is trembling. you need to answer. “ten x?” you finally breathe out.
for a second, there’s silence. you start to think this is some sort of joke, that he was gonna laugh it off any second.
but inside your shorts, his hand slides higher, his palm presses right over your panties, and he hums, “correct.”
before you reach out to the laptop to read the next question, you feel your underwear get pushed to the side. you don’t have enough time to react as he slides his ring finger inside, which makes your breath catch and your thighs clench.
his finger presses in deeper and your hips instinctively roll forward, chasing more friction, he chuckles at that and his other hand slides up to press against your thigh to keep you still.
“we…we’re supposed to be studying,” you blurt out. he tilts his head and slips his finger in fully, “should we stop then?” you try to reply, but the only thing that’s close to a response from you is the way your hips keep twitching, almost begging him to move his finger, and he curls his finger inside, touching your sweet spot, which makes you let out a small whimper. jisung hums, “thought so.”
you dig your nails into the sheets. yes—it feels good, but it’s not enough. “jisung…” you whisper.
“hmm?” he answers in a mocking tone as his other hand grips your thigh tighter so he keeps you spread for him.
his finger starts moving inside you, but it’s so slow it’s like he’s not completely giving you what you want. though, you can’t bring yourself to protest.
“now, next question,” his voice is low. your eyes are locked on the laptop screen, but your brain is too fuzzy to register any number. you can barely breathe, let alone think.
he must know the effect he has on you as he reads the equation out loud, “derivative of three x squared?” he asks and presses his finger again.
you tremble from the touch, “fuck—“
“that’s not an answer, y/n.” his voice is so calm, not like he’s fingering you, more like he’s genuinely waiting for you to answer him. like you’re actually supposed to focus on fucking math.
it’s not like you’re not trying. you are trying to answer, but the way his finger is pumping inside you so slowly, curving it slightly with each thrust makes you on the edge of craving more.
“come on, baby,” jisung coos and his lips brush your temple, “i know you know this one.”
your hands curl into fists, “i��six x?” you gasp.
he hums in approval and adds another finger, causing your back to arch. given how large his hands are, the stretch is perfect.
before you control yourself, your thighs snap shut against his wrist, your whole body is trembling and you’re completely overwhelmed.
he sighs like he’s disappointed in you. “don’t do that,” he says before using his other hand to pry your legs apart again.
his fingers push deeper and suddenly his thumb brushes over your clit. it’s barely there, enough to tease you, but not enough to satisfy you. it still draws noises from you.
“better,” he whispers and asks a question you don’t even bother registering. you blurt out a random number, hoping you’re right, gasping as you gave him the answer.
he’s silent for a second, until he answers, “wrong,” and presses his thumb down on your clit, hard.
your whole body jerks. a broken moan spills from your lips and your legs almost start closing on him again, but his grip tightens and locks you in place. “you’re gonna have to do better than that, baby.”
his fingers slam into you faster, more deeper. the slow pace he’d set earlier is gone. your body is reacting on it’s own, your hips rolling into his hand, your mouth letting small whimpers every time his fingers thrust in you. you can feel how wet you are based off the slick sounds and how easily he’s moving inside you.
“look at you,” he whispers as he’s watching the way your chest rises and falls, the way your lips part, the way your nails dig into the sheets, “you’re not paying attention at all, is this how you’re going to pass exams?”
you can’t even hear him. physically yes, but your mind is drowning under the pressure of his fingers curling inside you and his thumb massaging circles onto your clit.
it’s so perfect, so precise that you could almost believe he’s playing with your body like he’s been waiting to do this.
but how could that be? jisung, the top student who barely speaks to anyone, who hid his face in glasses when you practically begged him to tutor you for finals.
jisung, who side-eyed you every time you spaced out in lectures, who rolled his eyes when you’d rather scroll on your phone than take notes.
jisung, who sighed dramatically when you showed up to your first tutoring session completely unprepared, who scoffed when you whined about how you’d never pass if he didn’t help you.
jisung, who agreed anyway, who sat beside you for hours, patiently going over problems, reminding you of formulas, watching you struggle.
jisung, who smirked slightly every time you leaned in closer, every time your knee bumped his under the table, every time you chewed on your lip and complained that math was ‘so hard’.
jisung, who was always so calm, so unbothered, so normal.
jisung, who’s completely unraveling you now.
like he’s been waiting to do this, like he’s thought about it, like you didn’t catch up with it.
your thoughts quickly get cut off from the knot in your stomach coiling tighter. “jisung,” you gasp, your words barely audible, “i—i’m gonna—“
he presses harder, his fingers hitting that perfect spot inside you over and over. “you’re gonna cum all over my fingers?”
you nod quickly and desperately. your body is trembling, your stomach is coiling tighter, tighter, tighter—
until he pulls his fingers out. completely.
the loss causes your body to tense, a sharp gasp breaks from your lips and your hips roll down against nothing, chasing friction that’s no longer there. “what the fuck.” you cry out in desperation.
jisung leans back against the headboard like he didn’t just ruin you in the span of five seconds. his fingers, soaked, still dripping with you, lift lazily to his lips.
you stare at him as he licks them clean. you can’t even process the fact that he just left you so empty, so fucking desperate, so completely on edge.
“you wanna cum?” he asks while smirking, it’s not a question, he knows the answer.
your whole body trembles, thighs still spread for him, pussy throbbing, breath uneven.
“yes,” you say instantly, “yes, yes, yes, please, i need—“
“then ace your exams.”
your brain stalls.
your jaw drops.
“…you’re joking.”
jisung shakes his head, like this is just another normal conversation, like he didn’t just lick your arousal off his fingers.
“you don’t get to finish,” he says simply, “not until you earn it.”
your nails dig into the sheets, “you’re insane.”
“i said i’d help you,” he answers, “but i never said i’d make it easy.”
you shudder. you’re still clenched tight, still throbbing, still sitting at the edge of your orgasm, still waiting for him to slam his fingers back inside you.
he knows. he’s still sitting there, fully clothed, perfectly composed, like he didn’t just completely fuck you over and left you aching for him.
you can’t even say anything.
“better start focusing more,” he hums, stretches and goes back to his phone, completely unbothered.
➶ 。˚ ° ──────────────────
part 2 can be found here!!
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