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dijayeah · 3 months ago

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"Yours truly: a special grade valentine with a special grade D" //

🔞 NSFW CONTENT MDNI 🔞 💥 Title: Yours truly: a special grade valentine with a special grade D💥 Word Count: 9.1k 💥 Synopsis: A cozy Valentine’s getaway with Suguru Geto turns into a full-body workout you didn’t sign up for—all thanks to one very smug special-grade sorcerer who has zero chill and a mission to ruin you. Between teasing, overstimulation, and the kind of fireworks that leave you questioning your life choices, this night will definitely go down in history (and so will you—literally). 💥 Contains:→ Fem!reader x Geto Suguru → Smut | PWP | Filthy Filthy Smut → Free Use Kink (Consensual) → Teasing & Edging → Size Kink | Choking | Degradation-Praise Mix → Overstimulation | Biting & Marking → Multiple Orgasms | Rough Sex → Suguru Being a Menace™ → You Won’t Be Walking Tomorrow™ 💥 Read on AO3! 💥 Reblog & Follow for More Degeneracy!

dividers by: @/cafekitsune fic by: @dijayeah

In the heart of Niigata, as the city basked in the crisp air of mid-February, you and Suguru found warmth in a cozy café near the still waters of the Shinano River. The café, with its soft lighting and inviting aroma of coffee and freshly baked sweets, was a quiet refuge from the cold outside—a perfect place to steal a moment away from the world on Valentine's Day.

Settled into a corner table, you glanced outside at the river, the scenery still beautiful even without the thick December snow. Suguru, his long hair tied up into a loose half-bun, watched you more than the view, his amber eyes reflecting the golden glow of the café’s lights. He seemed content just to sit there with you, soaking in the atmosphere.

"I still don’t understand why Niigata of all places," you mused, exhaling softly against the window and drawing a small shape in the fogged-up glass. "I mean, it’s a beautiful city, but when you said you had a surprise, I didn’t expect… well, this."

Suguru chuckled, his gaze shifting from the window to you. "Think of it as a getaway, just for the two of us," he said, reaching across the table to take your hand in his. "Niigata is underrated, but it has so much to offer. I wanted somewhere we could escape to, without the crowds, without any distractions. Just us."

Your heart gave a little flutter at that. You knew how rare it was for Suguru to take time away from everything, so the fact that he planned something this thoughtful made warmth spread through your chest, despite the winter chill lingering outside.

Before you could respond, your drinks arrived—a fragrant matcha latte for you and a strong black Americano for Suguru, paired with an assortment of seasonal pastries decorated with fresh strawberries, Niigata’s famous specialty. The vibrant red of the fruit against the soft pastel tones of the cakes made for a picturesque spread, fitting for the holiday.

Suguru wrapped his hands around his cup, relishing its warmth. "Now, where were we? Ah, right—the surprise factor of our little trip. You said you didn’t expect this, but that’s kind of the point. I wanted something different from the usual Valentine’s plans. Niigata is known for its strawberries, sure, but also for its winter festivals, hot springs, and—"

"Let me guess," you interrupted playfully, picking up a strawberry and popping it into your mouth. "You booked a place with a view?"

Suguru’s lips curled into a smile, his amusement obvious. "You know me too well. A cabin near Lake Nojiri, with a perfect view of the sunset." He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping into that smooth, knowing tone. "Romantic, isn’t it?"

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head as you took a sip of your latte. "You really thought this through, huh?"

"Of course I did," he replied, looking pleased with himself. "I wanted this to be memorable, and after doing my research, Niigata seemed like the perfect place. Peaceful, beautiful, and perfect for spending time with you."

His words sent a pleasant warmth through you, something sweeter than the pastries on the table. There was something about the way Suguru loved—quiet but thoughtful, intentional yet effortless. He wasn’t one for grand, flashy gestures, but moments like this, the little things, always spoke louder than anything else.

You glanced at the clock and sighed contentedly. "Alright, fine. You win. But I’m definitely going to be a passenger princess again, because there’s no way you woke me up at 4 AM just to make me drive part of the way here."

Suguru laughed, the sound deep and warm, before reaching across the table to gently poke your forehead. "You’re always my passenger princess. And sorry about the early wake-up call, but I wanted us to have as much time together as possible."

You rolled your eyes fondly but couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. "Alright, alright. I’ll forgive you. But only because it’s Valentine’s Day."

Suguru smirked, taking another sip of his coffee before giving your hand a squeeze. "Then let’s make the most of it."

Continuing on from your cozy café encounter, you and Suguru bundled up in your winter attire, ready to leave the warm space behind. As you stepped out, the cold February air greeted you once more, bringing in a rather sharp contrast to the café's warmth. The Shinano River, partially frozen, glinted in the morning sun, its banks lined with snow that sparkled like millions of tiny diamonds.

You walked in comfortable silence for a while, the soft crunch of snow under your feet the only sound. You slipped your arm through Suguru's as you walked, leaning slightly into his warmth as he looked down at you with a gentle smile.

"You know, now that the fog cleared up, I can understand why you wanted to come here," you mused, your breath visible in the cold air as you spoke.

Suguru leaned down to place a kiss on your temple, his eyes reflecting the serene landscape.

"This area genuinely is lovely," he agreed, continuing to gaze at you with a tender look as you walked. "Even without the winter firework festival, the scenery alone is enough to warrant a visit. The river, the snow-laden mountains, and the way the sunlight reflects off the water is nothing short of breathtaking."

After a brief walk, you reached the place where Suguru had parked his car, the vehicle looking almost out of place in the picturesque, snowy setting. He opened the passenger door for you, helping you inside before walking around to the driver's side.

As you settled in and Suguru turned on the navigation, setting up a slightly longer but scenic route toward your destination, the car's heater began to dispel the chill. He pulled out onto the road, the car's tires crunching over the freshly snow-packed street.

"The drive to Lake Nojiri should offer some beautiful views," Suguru said, glancing at you with a hint of excitement. "The mountains this time of year are something else."

You nodded, your eyes on the passing scenery as you slowly left the city. "I can't wait. Though, I'm equally excited about the cabin. A view of the lake, you said?"

"Yes," he confirmed. "It's secluded, peaceful. Perfect for watching the sunset... and maybe the sunrise too, if we're up early enough tomorrow that is." He turned around to wink at you with a smug smile. "And if we're not," he added a moment later, his voice becoming slightly more playful, "I have other plans for the early morning hours that you should definitely look forward to."

"I’m afraid I have too well of an idea of what other plans you might have in mind." You rolled your eyes, then laughed softly, your cheekbones slightly tinted in red as you connected your phone to the car’s audio system, putting on some music for the background noise.

Suguru chuckled as you put on some music to seemingly distract him, a hint of flirtatious playfulness coming through the gentle smile he usually wore and the playful banter that was the norm for your relationship. "Of course you do," he teased, turning back to the road, "I'm not subtle at all with you," he then added, his cinnamon-colored eyes glancing at you, a small, knowing smirk playing on his lips.

"Yes, yes, a sugar daddy needs his sugar with a holiday tax on top." You teased back, humming along to the lyrics absentmindedly.

"Oooh, a cheeky one today, aren’t you?" The sorcerer said, shaking his head in humor as if you weren’t adorable and completely justified in your sass. "Well, I guess to some extent I am just spoiling you, as always. A scenic car drive, a private cabin, a romantic getaway for Valentine’s Day? What more can a girl want?"

"A dick, usually." You jested, winking at your boyfriend.

Suguru snorted in amusement and couldn't help but grin as you went there with the reply. "Well, guess what you're getting too," he said, looking at you with a sly, amused expression and a slight edge of teasing in his tone. "Should I pack it in a box for you like a present on my crotch?"

"Oh, absolutely you should, I like my gifts wrapped nicely." You emphasized as you put on ‘The Dick In A Box’ by The Lonely Island with a few taps on your phone.

The special-grade sorcerer immediately burst out laughing at your request and your choice of song, smiling widely as he looked over to you with a certain sparkle in his eyes, enjoying your wit and humor. "Perfect song choice. That said, I'll make sure it's the very prettiest wrapping paper for you," he replied, then snickered again at your exchange and the casual use of puns, his eyes on the road as the car continued its journey to the cabin. "I have to show off my brilliant wrapping skills after all. Would you like a red bow on top?"

"Can’t say no to such a brilliant suggestion." You hummed, your eyes teary from laughing a little too much as the song played in the background, low enough for you to be able to have an intimate conversation.

Once the initial burst of laughter subsided, Suguru's face once again became more playful and flirtatious, his eyes on you as he leaned over and whispered against your ear briefly. "I have to warn you though, the contents of that wrapping will be explosive..."

"Well then, I hope the explosion will be hard enough." You countered, your index finger trailing the sharp line of his jaw, a coy smirk on your glossed lips as you batted your lashes at him.

The raven-haired man couldn't help but grin at your reply, his eyes flashing with a hint of playfulness and something dark as his focus shifted to the road again, steering the car down the winding road and bringing you closer to your temporary new home away from Tokyo. "Just so you know," he added, placing his warm hand on your thigh, fingers digging into the flesh that was covered in fleece-lined tights, "that explosion is only getting bigger and stronger... so prepare yourself properly, there will be some fireworks to catch at the end too."

Your eyes danced with pure amusement as you felt Suguru's warm hand sliding up your thigh, his words sending a familiar thrill of anticipation through you. You leaned closer, your voice a rasp against your boyfriend’s ear. "Well then, I guess it's a good thing I'm with a special-grade sorcerer who's also an expert in pyrotechnics. I always did have a thing for men who know their way around fireworks. Makes for quite the dazzling display." Your smirk deepened as you playfully added, "Just be sure to handle those explosives with care, we wouldn't want any premature ignitions."

"Indeed we wouldn't," Suguru responded, his voice deep and laced with husky, seductive undertones. "Those sparks are reserved for the grand finale. And you'll see, once we're back at the cabin tonight after our final outing, I've saved the biggest and most spectacular firework display just for you. It's a show that might require some effort to reach its climax, but trust me, every bit of that effort will be worth it."

You snorted at the not-so-subtle innuendo, shaking your head as you chose to let that one slide, your eyes shifting towards the scenery outside of your window on the passenger’s side.

After that, you drove in a comfortable silence, occasionally pointing out a particularly beautiful tree or a distant mountain peak to Suguru. The landscape of Niigata prefecture unfolded before you, a tapestry of snow, trees, and the occasional farmhouse or small village.

As the road became more narrow in the mountains, the scenery became even more dramatic. The trees were heavier with snow here, the air much crisper. Suguru occasionally reached over to squeeze your hand or thigh with his large warm hand whenever he didn’t need it on the wheel or the transmission.

Upon your arrival, the cabin, obscured by the weight of winter, stood as a lone sentinel against the biting chill, its wooden facade dusted with a soft, white powder like confectioner's sugar on a holiday treat. It didn’t take long before Suguru parked the car in the designated area, close to the small house next to the lake, surrounded by a mountain range.

As you walked in, you swiftly unlocked the door after finding the key based on the host’s instructions, and Suguru carried your things from the back trunk of the car inside the cabin. The interior greeted you with remnants of bygone warmth, an echo of embers in the hearth, and a lingering scent of woodsmoke that told you it wasn’t that long since someone had last occupied this place.

The few rooms inside the cozy space were quaint, a tapestry of timber and Japanese tradition with a modern twist, where each creak of the floorboard told tales of countless winters past. The view from the windows was a masterpiece painted in snow and silence; the lake, now a glassy canvas, reflected the somber dance of a few snowflakes descending from an afternoon clear sky. The mountains, austere in their winter garb, rose like ancient deities, their peaks lost to the low-hanging clouds.

In the heart of this frostbitten idyll, you and Suguru discovered a tranquility that the city of Tokyo could never afford. As you walked around, getting familiar with the place, Suguru was quick to suggest making a bonfire outside. "We should set up a bonfire, it would be a shame not to," he mused, his words a breath in the crisp air.

You joined him as you stepped out onto the back porch, where the world seemed to pause, the hush of the wind a gentle whisper to your ears as you stood close to him. “And a fireplace inside.” You noted as a matter-of-factly. “Oh, is that a hot tub?” You pointed at the round tub that had a protective layer of dark fabric above the water.

“Indeed, perhaps something we can do tomorrow, to ease sore muscles.” He winked at you as you all but scoffed at him in return, bumping his side with your hip in amusement. “Let’s go collect something to get that fire going, or else I’ll turn into an icicle.”

Together, you gathered wood that was already available in the small shack next to the cabin and gently set up the fire, though not without a little bit of a struggle. “Fucking hell, I wish I had the ability to light this up instantly.” You groaned then scoffed in distaste at your attempt when it came to lighting up a fire, your eyes narrowing at the dry logs of wood.

Suguru chuckled next to you by the fireplace, the match struck once, twice, the flame took, and soon a fire was born, crackling with life and warmth. “Well, you were the one who insisted on trying to light up the fire inside the cabin,” he reminded you in a teasing tone.

“I wasn’t that bad.”

“Right, keep telling yourself that.” He snickered as he walked back out on the porch, working on setting up the bonfire before he heard you rustling around in the kitchen back in the cabin, most likely preparing a small plate of snacks and drinks given that you made a brief visit to Lawson’s on your way here.

From where he was standing, the tall dark-haired man observed the small clearing that opened to the vast, frozen canvas of Lake Nojiri. It was here, in the late afternoon as the sun began its descent behind the snow-capped mountains, that you and Suguru ventured to set up your own little sanctuary of warmth amidst the cold.

The orange and pink gradients of the sky cast a dreamlike quality over the scene, promising a sunset that would linger in your memories, making this holiday retreat all the more special.

"Don't you think it's a bit cliché?" you teased, wrapping your arms around yourself for warmth as you stepped back into the snow-covered porch area, your eyes twinkling with mirth at the sight of Suguru arranging the logs. "Two lovers, alone in the wilderness, starting a fire as the sun sets?"

Suguru flashed you a playful grin, not looking up from his task. "Cliché? Maybe. But tell me you don't love it," he said, his voice as warm as the fire he was about to kindle.

With the wood carefully stacked, he struck a match, and the small flame seemed to hold its breath against the encroaching shadows of the evening. "Besides," he said, nurturing the fledgling fire, "how else will we toast our marshmallows?"

Your laughter joined the symphony of crackles and pops from the fire. "We're in Japan, Suguru. Marshmallows aren't exactly traditional," you said with a dramatic flourish, settling into a chair beside the growing bonfire and brushing away the dusting of snow with the back of your manicured hand.

He accepted the mug of hot chocolate you offered with a gentle chuckle. "For you, I'd import a mountain of marshmallows, even if they’re commonplace around here," Suguru joked, taking a warm sip. "But for something like that… we’d have to keep it a secret from Satoru because you know he’d insist on turning our solitary retreat into a glamping adventure—and of course, he'd bring company for a double date," he continued, a mock sigh escaping him at the thought of their peaceful duet becoming a quartet with his loud best friend around. "Though, this hot chocolate," he gestured with his mug, "is indeed the perfect companion for a day like this."

The fire, now roaring with life, cast a welcoming radius of light and heat. As the sun began its majestic descent behind the distant mountains, the colors of the sky deepened, creating a backdrop of such beauty it could've been lifted from the canvas of a master painter. The two of you sat side by side, your silhouettes etched against the fiery performance of the twilight sky, while the peaceful lake before you reflected the spectacle in its icy surface.

In the comfort of the fire's glow, with the taste of sweet chocolate on your lips and the serene view before you, you found an enchanting peace, a shared solitude that only deepened as the stars began to dot the heavens above, the first sign of the moon showing too despite the sky being far from dark.

The raven-haired man held your smaller hand in his, a comfortable silence settled between you as his thumb brushed the top of your hand absentmindedly, a heavy blanket draped over your lap. The fire reflected in both of your eyes as he slowly tugged you towards him, his other hand falling over to cradle your delicate face, his hand near swallowing the side of your face as he smiled down at you, looking at your face covered in a pink hue no doubt from the cold. “You know that I love you, right?” he husked out, tone smooth and low.

“Mhm,” you smiled at him, a soft and intimate gesture only meant for Suguru. “I love you too, baby.”

The long-haired sorcerer chuckled softly, a quiet content in his voice as he took in your words. "I know," he murmured, letting his long fingers trail down to your chin, tipping your head upward so that your faces were closer. His thumb ran over your lips, parting them slowly as the edge of his thumb grazed your tongue, his gaze meeting yours from a few inches away. "But just to add… I love you more than you’ll ever know," he rasped, leaning in and pressing his lips against yours in a gentle yet intimate kiss, the warmth of the bonfire and the scent of burnt cedar and pine mixing together with your breath.

Your mind fogged as your lips connected, thoughts of the early evening washing away and being replaced by a warm surge of emotions and sensations as you closed your eyes and gave yourself over to the kiss. His hand cupping your chin and his thumb stroking the underside of your jaw only added to the pull he had on you, making you lean into him, slowly shifting onto his lap from your chair. Your body pressed against his, your hands running over thick strands of hair and down to his chest, slipping beneath the coat draped over his shoulders.

Suguru groaned against your mouth, biting down lightly on your bottom lip before gently gripping your throat in warning. His dark eyes sought yours as he growled out, “You know you're tempting me now." He pulled you into another demanding kiss, letting out a low grunt against your lips, his hands moving down to your lower back, one hand brushing over your hip, his teeth lightly scraping your lip as he leaned you against his chest with a quiet moan.

A soft whimper left you at his words and the kiss he gave, your body pressing against his as your hands stroked through his soft mane and along his broad shoulders. "Good," you breathed, pressing closer to him and enjoying the warmth of his body. "I wouldn’t want it any other way." You murmured against his neck, tugging at the neckline of his sweater, your lips trailing along his pulse point as you felt him harden beneath you.

His fingers tightened around your waist as you rocked against him, his breath hitching at the sensation. One of your hands drifted down, fingers tracing the waistband of his dark trousers as you reveled in the heat building between you both. A rasped chuckle left you when you felt the familiar throbbing against your thigh, your hips rolling instinctively as the heavy blanket pooled onto the ground beside you.

“Fuck—” Suguru moaned low, one hand weaving into your hair, tugging your head back until you arched into him. “We still have plans tonight, princess, can’t take you just yet.” His self-control was fraying, barely hanging on. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t tease you… we still have time.”

“That’s cruel,” you whispered, your body shifting again as you pouted up at him, held firmly in his grasp.

“I never said I liked being gentle,” he husked, amber eyes flicking between your lips and your hooded gaze, the rise and fall of your breathing making your body press against him just right. His voice dipped lower, laced with teasing dominance. “You know damn well that I love hearing you beg.” His fingers traced up your side deliberately slow, sending another shiver through you. “Besides, you’re one to talk. You had me worked up the entire drive here.”

“Suguru—” Your voice came out breathless, filled with a deep sense of need as he kept you close, his hold possessive yet reverent.

“Inside the cabin. Now.” His eyes darkened as the bonfire’s flickering glow cast shadows across his sharp features. He let go of your hair, the slight sting at the back of your scalp fading into something more heated. “I’ll give you a taste since you’ve been so desperate for me today.”

He grabbed your wrist, guiding you swiftly inside, kicking the door shut behind you. Coats were discarded, landing somewhere near the chair as he wasted no time pressing you against the nearest counter. One large hand gripped your thigh as he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. "What do you say you be a good girl and let me do whatever I want with you? A little free use sounds good right about now."

A shudder ran through you at his words. "Y-yes, please," you gasped, your skin pebbling with anticipation as his fingers traced up your thigh.

Suguru hummed in satisfaction at your response, pushing your skirt up to your hips. His blunt fingernails caught the hem of your fleece tights, tugging them down just enough to expose what he wanted. His long fingers dragged through your clothed slit, and you bucked against his hand, cheek pressed to the cold counter with a quiet sob of pleasure.

“Pretty panties today,” he mused, amusement threading his tone as he ran a finger over the damp fabric. "And very tight ones, too." His voice grew huskier as the heat radiating from between your thighs had his own restraint slipping fast. “Already dripping for me…” His breath came shorter as he pushed your underwear aside, sliding two fingers inside of you in one smooth motion. “Shameless, aren’t you?”

Your body tensed around his fingers, a sharp cry escaping you as the sensation overtook your senses. “Mmm… Suguru—” you whimpered, his touch sending shockwaves through you, leaving you breathless.

“Stop acting so needy, princess,” he chuckled darkly, his fingers setting a slow, lazy rhythm, dragging pleasure through every motion. His other hand smoothed over the curve of your ass before giving it a light slap, making you jolt. “Patience.”

At that, your hips bucked into his hand, straining against his wrist, knees slightly shaky as you rocked on your toes to keep your position against the counter.

Suguru’s eyes were glued to you, watching as you writhed with barely contained need. One hand moved to grip your hip firmly, keeping you in place, while his other hand worked steadily, teasingly slow. "That's it…" he groaned low, listening to your whimpers and gasps, your hands curling around the edge of the stone surface as you strained against your own pleasure. "Keep whining for me like the good girl you are, and I might consider speeding up."

"Suguru, please, wanna come, please—"

He smirked at your pleading, cheeks flushed, breathing shaky. "Begging, are you?" His voice was low, hoarse from your desperation. He gave you another small but playful slap on your now-reddening rear. "What am I going to do with you?" He clicked his tongue before chuckling in amusement, pulling his fingers out swiftly. He made sure you were watching over your shoulder before bringing them to his lips, licking them clean with a satisfied hum.

His hands then moved to the front of his dark pants as he quickly unzipped them, dropping them down to his thighs alongside his boxers. He gave himself a few shallow strokes, his length heavy in his grasp.

"Don’t worry, I’ll give you a taste of something better."

Your throat tightened at his words, his body thrumming with anticipation as he watched you, eyes half-lidded with need. He caught your attention with more shallow strokes along his length, the soft tip teasing your slit as you squirmed and groaned in response. "Ready for me?" His breath was hot against the back of your neck as he pushed in with one swift roll of his hips, hissing at the feeling as he bottomed out inside of you.

"Suguru—" You sobbed out his name, your hips pressing into the counter as you stood on tiptoe to meet his thrusts.

He set a harsh pace immediately, both of you moaning as he reached to grip your wrists, pinning them behind your back, arching you even more. The action tilted your body at a perfect angle, making you feel every inch of him as he thrust deeper. His other hand moved to cup your face, fingers briefly squishing your cheeks before sliding through your hair. With a swift tug, he pulled your head back, exposing your neck.

His voice dropped into something dark and possessive, "All for my pleasure, baby. Not letting you cum till later tonight—that’s what free use means."

Then, abruptly, he pulled out, stepping back as if nothing had happened, snapping your silk panties back into place. "Behave, and maybe you’ll get that dick all wrapped up nicely after the fireworks show." His words were a teasing command against your neck before he placed a soft kiss on your heated skin, moving away.

You whined at the loss, teary eyes giving him a soft glare as you pulled on your tights. "Fine," you muttered, straightening your skirt.

As the sorcerer parked their sleek black vehicle alongside countless others in the snowy parking lot, he stepped out before walking around and opening the door for you. Your hand wrapped around his forearm with familiar ease.

“Oh, I didn’t expect it to be this big out here. They went all out, huh?” you noted, eyes scanning the number of people in the area. Suguru nodded wordlessly, his gaze flickering to the large sign standing at the very front of the event area, stating, ‘Echigotsumari Art Field + Fireworks in the Snow, Winter 2025.’ Beneath the bold letters, in smaller print, it read, ‘Fireworks color ethereal flower fields of light on a snowy night.’

He guided you through the central area where the main art exposition on the snow was happening. It almost felt like stepping into another world, a vast, open field draped in white and bathed in the soft glow of intricate lights. As the dark sky greeted you both, the first hints of the event’s magic began to flicker to life. Lights in every imaginable hue shimmered, casting the field in a celestial glow as though a piece of the starry sky had descended to earth. Laughter and murmured voices filled the air, a prelude to the night’s main festivities.

“Mmm…” Suguru murmured after a moment, his voice laced with quiet awe as he took in the mesmerizing sight. As you both stepped closer, the colors shifted, painting the snow in breathtaking hues. He tightened his grip on your hand, his attention torn between the scene before him and the feel of you beside him.

“Wow, so pretty,” you breathed, eyes wide as they reflected the flickering lights. Suguru chuckled at your reaction, amusement tugging at his lips before he reached up, ruffling your hair playfully.

“You always get that look when you see something beautiful.”

“And what of it?” you teased, leaning into his touch.

“Nothing,” he said smoothly, the warmth in his voice enough to melt through the winter chill. “Just an observation.”

Along the edge of the glowing field, the scent of warm food and spices mingled with the crisp winter air. Vendors had set up their stalls, offering some of Niigata’s favorite seasonal delicacies. The sizzle of takoyaki turning golden, the rich steam from hot bowls of ramen, and the sugary aroma of freshly made taiyaki filled the space, promising comfort for those braving the cold.

Suguru’s eyes scanned the vibrant scene, but ultimately, they returned to you. His thumb traced a slow, absentminded circle on the back of your hand, his gaze softening as he took in the way you looked around in quiet reverence. The distant chatter of the festival faded into a low hum around you both, a comfortable quiet settling between you.

Then, in a swift but tender movement, he pressed a kiss to your temple, his thumb now smoothing between your knuckles. “You wanna get some food?” he asked, his voice a quiet rumble in the cold night air.

Your eyes brightened at the suggestion, a small bounce of excitement in your step as you grinned. “Ramen, if they have some,” you said eagerly, your tone light as you reached for his hand again, this time guiding it around your waist. “Let’s find a spot where the lines aren’t too long,” you murmured, resting your head against his shoulder.

Suguru chuckled, the sound warm and low as he allowed himself to be pulled along. “Very well,” he murmured, his fingers lightly tracing along your hip. “Ramen it is.”

The climax of the night was heralded by the first rocket that soared into the blanketed abyss above, bursting into a cascade of sparks. Fireworks, in a symphony of color and sound, danced across the star-littered skies, each explosion a painter's stroke on the canvas of the night. Countless figures stood shoulder to shoulder, heads tilted back, eyes reflecting the splendor above.

The loud pop of the fireworks and the bright lights that followed made Suguru’s heart race. His gaze was quickly drawn away from the colorful display and back to you, watching as your eyes shimmered in the darkness, your features illuminated by the bursts of light. The awe-struck expression on your face, the way your lips parted slightly as you took in the sight—it was enough to make his heart skip a beat.

“Beautiful,” he murmured into your ear, his voice a low rasp.

“The fireworks?” you teased, giggling softly at his sudden shift in attention. You turned to him, your lips curling into a small smile as you awaited his answer. Suguru, for his part, smiled back at you, though what he really wanted was to pull you in close and kiss you deeply.

“Those too,” he hummed against your cheek, his tall frame towering over you. Without another word, he wrapped an arm around your waist, his other hand trailing up to the back of your neck, his thumb brushing gently along your jaw. Then, in one swift motion, he pulled you toward him, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both tender and intense.

Suguru had a way of turning a simple kiss into something deep and consuming. His grip on your hips tightened, anchoring you against him as he deepened the kiss. His tongue darted against yours, the warmth of his body a stark contrast to the chill in the air. The crackling of fireworks above was nearly drowned out by the thudding of his heart, by the quiet moan you breathed against his lips as he pulled you impossibly closer.

His hand slid lower, grazing the curve of your waist as he smirked into the kiss before eventually releasing you. “This firework display won’t be the only one you see tonight,” he teased, brushing a few strands of hair away from your face before shifting his gaze back to the sky.

You caught your breath, still slightly dazed from the kiss, your fingers lightly touching your lips as you turned back to the fireworks. “I definitely haven’t forgotten,” you teased back, your voice soft and slightly breathless. A warm sensation lingered where his lips had been. “Thank you for bringing me here, Suguru.”

His grip on your hand tightened briefly, a rare but sincere expression of emotion flashing in his amber eyes. “Always,” he murmured, his deep voice nearly lost beneath the next explosion of color in the sky.

They were kissing and giggling once more by the time they stumbled back inside the cabin they had left earlier, with Suguru trying to take off his heavy coat as your cold hands gripped his cheeks, bringing him to lean in for another brief kiss as he obliged for the hundredth time. The two of you were drunk on… love, quite literally (and maybe you had some hot cider at the festival, but that was beside the point).

“We really had a nice evening out,” Suguru mumbled softly as he took off his coat, shaking the fresh snowflakes off and hanging it up on the hallway wall before taking yours too. His attention turned to you, noting the beautiful glow on your cheeks, whether from the cold or from all of the kissing in the last five minutes. Suguru leaned in for another cheeky kiss, his hands moving gently down to the curve of your waist, pulling you tightly into his frame once again. “Now, I hope you will allow your favorite pyrotechnician to make some preparations to get the holiday celebrations in full swing. I believe… a blanket next to the fireplace should be reserved as a VIP spot for you, so follow my instructions, okay?”

“Yes, sir,” you giggled and nodded as you leaned against the dark-haired man's body, your arms wrapping around his for a brief hug before you moved to shrug off your heeled boots, exchanging them for a pair of slippers. “Are pillows allowed, or is that an extra holiday tax?”

“I am feeling generous tonight, so pillows are included in the holiday experience package,” Suguru grinned back at you, watching as you took off your shoes, following right behind you. “Now, you must be cold, so go and sit by the fireplace. As I said, I have more preparations that need to be made for tonight.” He gave you a gentle pat on the ass as he sent you off toward the open space living room and disappeared upstairs into the bathroom.

Around twenty minutes later, the sorcerer emerged from the bathroom with a fluffy robe around his broad shoulders, his dark hair pinned above his head with a small pin. He had taken the time to wash his face, the faint scent of mint still lingering on his breath as he made his way over to the fireplace, where you were now comfortably curled up with a bunch of pillows and two thick fluffy blankets brought from home.

You rested half of your body sideways on your elbow, feet tucked beneath you as you leaned against the back cushion, a short silk robe stretching across your curves as you offered him a glass of champagne, a strawberry swirling inside the liquid. You sat down then to face him better, taking a sip from your own glass.

Suguru chuckled and took the extra glass from you, holding it close to his body until he sat down beside you. He was more than intrigued by the way you looked right now, your eyes glinting in the firelight, your long silky hair falling over your frame like a curtain. He took a few sips of the alcohol, letting the sweetness wash down the lump in his throat before he turned toward you, a playful smirk on his lips as his gaze flicked down to the robe you were wearing. The sorcerer then brought his free hand to the top of your silk robe and gently tugged on it, waiting until you glanced up at him as the silk slid down your shoulder.

“These can wait till after we are done,” he murmured, taking your glass away too and putting them on the coffee table nearby. “The show’s more important after all.” He pushed you down onto the pillows and blankets beneath you. The light from the fireplace provided a sensual and intimate atmosphere between you both.

Suguru’s hand trailed lower as he slowly opened your robe just enough to let one of his hands trace the valley of your breasts, eyes darkening at the silk and lace bra you wore underneath. “Someone’s feeling festive, huh?” The dark-haired man’s face was close to yours as he slowly pulled the robe further away from your body, the robe covering you only in part now. His hand moved over your curves as your breath caught in your throat, your heart racing from the feeling of his warmth on your skin.

“Suguru…” you breathed out his name.

The sorcerer’s breath danced with your accelerated heartbeat, the heat rising even more as he traced your curves with his fingers and traced the outline of your bra, his hand grazing the silk as he felt a small thrill of anticipation. His mouth was close to yours, his tongue darting toward your lower lip, his hand sliding underneath your bra now to finally grab your breast and brush your nipple with the back of his thumb.

“Ready for your final gift tonight?” He pinched the nipple between his thumb and index finger as you threw your head back, then nodded wordlessly.

Suguru shrugged off his fluffy black robe. He was wearing nothing underneath—well, apart from a nicely wrapped gift box right on his dick.

“I can’t believe you actually took that seriously.” You groaned and then laughed at the sight that somehow made you even more aroused.

“Told you I’d show you my wrapping skills.” He smirked at you. “Now, how about you unwrap your gift, hm? He’s been rather excited to see you, given what we were doing right before we went out for the festival.”

Suguru then chuckled as he watched you giggle at his dumb joke. He was quite pleased he got to pull it off so successfully, though he felt even more pleased by the look on your face.

He was getting a feeling that you were going to enjoy his little idea, inspired by your silly song choice in the car today. “Now, how about you give me a little show first? Show me what you can do with your hands or that pretty mouth of yours, little miss, I’m all eyes.”

“Aww, how is it always on me to entertain?” you groaned in mock fashion, letting your hands brush across the sorcerer’s bare chest, your hand trailing lower to his groin as you slowly removed the box, trying not to laugh before brushing your fingernails along the thick vein of his cock.

“I’m afraid no fireworks can be launched without a little bit of preparation.” He groaned softly as you brushed your fingertips along his length. You knew exactly what you were doing, and it was working wonders. Your touch was smooth and delicate, and it was enough to make his blood rush through his veins as his body reacted to your every move, his cock twitching in your hand as you gripped him tightly at the base now.

You couldn’t help your laughter, a deep chortle rumbling from your throat. It was quite a funny sight, having the special-grade sorcerer of all people be your gift, but you quickly found it to be a turn-on too. “Alright, I guess I’ll lend you some support.” You hummed, sliding down on your knees as your lips wrapped around the tip.

Suguru closed his eyes, his head falling back as he let out a long moan, his damp long hair slipping free from the pin that held it together, cascading over his back and shoulders. His body quivered as he took in the sight of you on your knees, working him over with eager lips and a talented tongue. His large hand gripped the back of your head, guiding you to take him all the way down just as he knew you could, your nose brushing against the soft trail of dark-trimmed hair at his crotch.

“Now, that’s more like it,” Suguru growled, his voice thick with desire as his body responded to the sensation. His fingers dug into your hair as your mouth and tongue worked their magic. “No wonder you’re my free use slut,” he groaned, his breath coming in short gasps as he watched your fierce, half-lidded eyes look up at him, long lashes casting delicate shadows against your flushed cheeks.

“Fuck, just like that, baby,” he bit his bottom lip, the taste of iron lingering on his tongue as he bucked his hips into your wet heat, his movements slow but deliberate as he began thrusting into your mouth.

You moaned at his reaction, using his heavy breathing as a guide while your swollen lips and tongue swirled and slid over him. Every now and then, you flicked your eyes up to make sure he was enjoying the view, his chest rising and falling in short, shallow breaths. Minutes passed, both of you losing track of time, moving in sync. His grip on the back of your head tightened, his thighs tensing, his breath hitching as you reached down and gently squeezed his balls.

Suguru’s body shuddered, the tension in his stomach coiling tighter, his muscles trembling as he neared the edge. You felt it—his body strung taut, teetering between restraint and release. But you were toying with him, teasing, bringing him close but never letting him fall over. You smirked up at him, enjoying his struggle.

A low, frustrated growl left him as he suddenly pulled you away, his hands gripping your shoulders as he pushed you down onto the pillows. His body hovered over yours, his knees nudging your legs apart. “Think you’re such a tease?” he murmured darkly, eyes burning into yours. “Oh, I’m gonna make a firework show of your insides.”

“With your firework stick?” you teased, smirking.

His response was swift—a sharp slap against your clothed pussy, making your eyes widen as your body jolted.

“Yes, my firework stick,” he groaned, his voice thick with amusement and arousal. His gaze darkened as his hand drifted down your inner thigh, teasing but not yet giving you what you wanted. You writhed beneath him, anticipation building as he slid his fingers along your slit, pushing your panties aside. Your breath hitched, body trembling at his touch.

“That’s a good girl,” he praised, his voice husky as he pushed two fingers deep inside you. Your breath caught in your throat, your back arching as your nails dug into his arms. “Want that firework stick now?”

“You’re teasing me again, Suguru,” you sighed, chest rising and falling with sharp, shallow breaths. “It’s not fair.”

He smirked, his thumb circling your clit with slow, deliberate strokes. “Please what?” he murmured, one arm pinning your wrists above your head, keeping you exactly where he wanted you.

“Suguru, I want your cock—” you gasped, your words breaking into little sobs of pleasure as he continued to toy with you.

The sorcerer hummed, his free hand moving to grip himself, rubbing the tip along your soaked folds. “Like this? Does my little slut like this? Tell me,” he rasped, his voice teasing, knowing exactly what he was doing. Your teary eyes widened as your thighs trembled, instinctively seeking more contact. “God, you’re so wet,” he groaned, his breath growing short as the blunt head of his cock gathered more of your arousal, slicking himself up.

“A-ah, inside, please,” you whimpered, frustration laced in your voice, your body aching from the emptiness.

“Alright, I’ll oblige just this once since I teased you enough already,” he chuckled, releasing your wrists. His large hands gripped your thighs, pushing your legs back until your knees nearly touched your chest. The movement made your breasts jiggle, drawing a low, appreciative groan from him. Before you could catch your breath, he was inside you, stretching you open in one deep thrust.

“Mhm, don’t clench so hard, baby, or the fireworks might come early,” he moaned against your neck, his head falling forward, silky strands of black hair tickling your collarbone and cheek. You squeezed him so tightly he thought he might lose it right then, but the way your body spread open for him, folding beneath him just for his pleasure, was an image he would never forget.

“But you feel so good,” you gasped, arms wrapping around his shoulders, legs trembling at the overwhelming sensation. His cock filled you perfectly, the stretch delicious, making you feel every inch of him with each slow roll of his hips.

“Shit, you’re just begging to be fucked open like that,” he growled, his hands gripping your thighs tighter, keeping you pinned beneath him. “Gonna fuck open that hole of yours nice and well for me tonight—that’s what needy little whores like you get.”

You whimpered, body pliant beneath him as he started moving, his heels digging into the blanket for leverage. His thrusts were slow but deep, pulling out only halfway before slamming back in, dragging pleasure from you with every movement. Your soft thighs pressed against his abs, your ankles brushing over his shoulders.

He leaned down, capturing your lips in a sloppy, desperate kiss. “Need you like this for me,” he groaned against your mouth. “All spread out and taking me all the way in like a good girl.”

His hips snapped forward sharply, the force of it knocking the breath from your lungs. You cried out, back arching, nails dragging down his back as he fucked you open, his body covering yours as he took exactly what he wanted.

“Fuuuck,” you groaned, biting your lower lip as your nails dragged along his shoulders, down to his biceps that flexed with every thrust. He kept you exactly where he wanted, his pace increasing, hips slamming against yours. Your eyes rolled back, your mind emptying as a familiar sensation built within you—the ache turning into something far more intense, something dangerously pleasurable.

Suguru fell onto his forearms now, his cock stretching you in a way that made you whimper and moan, his pace relentless. Your lashes grew damp, your voice breaking into small, needy cries as his movements became rougher, deeper, hitting every spot that made you see stars.

“Close—” you choked out, and he heard you, immediately doubling down. His hips slammed into you with a force that promised you wouldn’t be walking straight for days. The sound of skin slapping filled the space, each desperate thrust accompanied by the weight of his balls smacking against you. Your walls clenched down around him, and you let out a sob, tears slipping down your flushed cheeks.

Something inside of you snapped—tight, like a string pulled too far. Your entire body twitched erratically, his name leaving your lips in a breathless chant, swallowed by his mouth as he latched onto your neck, sucking and biting until your skin was marked by him. His own restraint nearly snapped when he felt the way you pulsed around him, your tight cunt milking him, desperate to take everything he had to give.

“What a fucking wet mess you are,” he groaned, his voice rough with lust. “Look between your legs, baby. You’re dripping for me, making a mess of my cock.” His sharp amber eyes flicked downward, watching as his length dragged out of you, slick and coated with your release. A creamy ring formed at the base, evidence of just how ruined you were for him. You could only whimper in response, too lost in the pleasure to form coherent words.

Suguru gripped one of your ankles, kissing the inside of your leg with a surprising tenderness that contrasted the merciless way he was still fucking into you, barely giving you time to recover. He slid back in, chasing his own relief now, his breath ragged.

“You’re still so fucking tight after all that,” he groaned, his voice strained. His heavy breaths matched your own as he watched the way you took him, his cock splitting you open over and over again. His pace was erratic now, his hips shaking as he leaned in, panting against your cheek. “God, I love you so much,” Suguru moaned, seconds away from unraveling.

“I love you too,” you gasped, your body trembling, thighs twitching from the overstimulation. Your fingers, which had been clawing at his shoulders, now gripped the blanket beneath you instead, trying to ground yourself as the pleasure threatened to consume you whole.

His hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing tightly, and with one deep, desperate thrust, his entire body shuddered. His broad back arched, veins popping along his neck and arms as he let out a series of ragged, needy grunts. “Fuck—baby—milking me like this—”

You moaned hoarsely at the warmth that filled you, thick ropes of cum spilling inside you, coating your walls. He groaned low in his throat, his tongue darting out to lick a stray tear from your cheek as he savored the moment. His cock twitched inside you as he stayed buried to the hilt for a few extra seconds, basking in the sensation before finally slipping out with a grunt. His hand, which had been wrapped around your throat, loosened, leaving behind the faint imprint of his touch.

Suguru leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple, sweat glistening on both of your bodies.

“Did you like the fireworks?” he rasped, a hoarse chuckle escaping him.

You nodded frantically, still dazed, your body twitching as the lingering pleasure pulsed through you. Your breath was uneven, coming in short little puffs as you gazed at him through heavy lids. “I didn’t know you had that in you,” you sighed, voice weak, barely above a whisper. The ache between your legs was proof that he had pushed you to your limit, leaving every muscle loose and spent.

“Are you going to be able to walk tomorrow?” he asked, raising a brow, though his smug grin faded slightly when he saw the way you struggled to move.

“You’re gonna have to carry me for the next few days because no, I don’t think I’ll be able to walk at all,” you groaned, wincing at the slightest movement. Your hands remained clenched around the blanket, as if letting go would make the overwhelming sensation return in full force.

Suguru’s smirk faltered, concern flickering in his eyes, but you quickly shook your head, reaching out to cup his cheek. “I couldn’t possibly be more satisfied than I am right now,” you reassured him. “So stop worrying and let’s just cuddle by this goddamn fireplace.” You pushed at his chest until he rolled onto his side, allowing you to curl up beside him.

He gave you a satisfied little smile, his heart doing an embarrassing flip as he pulled a spare blanket over both of you. His long limbs wrapped around you, one arm securing you against his chest as he tucked your head beneath his chin. He kissed your forehead softly, inhaling the scent of your skin, content to simply hold you.

“If anyone should be worried, it should be me,” he murmured, amusement lacing his tone. “You’re a mess right now, and I feel no remorse whatsoever. What is this now, the third time this week I’ve ruined you?”

“And this will be the third time I’ve enjoyed it,” you countered, smiling against his chest. Your arms wrapped around him, pulling him impossibly closer, your breaths evening out as exhaustion settled in.

“Oh shit—the champagne!” you suddenly remembered, cracking your eyes open. You glanced at the coffee table beside you, spotting the two glasses you had barely touched. The strawberries floating inside had absorbed half the alcohol, fizzing up slightly.

Suguru groaned. “You mean to tell me I did all of that and you’re still thinking about champagne?”

You giggled, nudging his side. “Well, it’s still a celebration, isn’t it?”

He chuckled, shaking his head, his grip on you tightening. “Yeah, yeah. Happy fucking Valentine’s Day, baby.”

///

123 notes · View notes

nanamineedstherapy · 3 months ago

Note

Your jjk caveman crack fics are literally the best thing ever 😂 do you think we could get a part 3???

Thank you for the ask, I was already gonna post this. Happy Valentine's Day!!!

Ooga Booga Sukuna gets Reverse Bonked

Previous Chapter 2: Ooga Booga Gojo tries to Court you (Tumblr/Ao3)

Summary: Prehistoric, period-accurate Neanderthal JJK daddies courting you with grunts, rocks, & zero verbal communication. Just prehistoric buffoonery.

A/N: Listen. I don’t know how we got here. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I just know that prehistoric Sukuna is going through it, and honestly? Good for him. This chapter is dedicated to all the idiots in love who have the combined IQ of a rock & the tension of two angry stray cats fighting over a single chicken bone. As usual, => This is a different reader, but the same Sukuna—unfortunately for you. => Some bits are suggestive (in regards of mating), but nothing in detail, only in comedy. => This is Sukuna’s chapter, but don’t worry—the other guys are also getting their solo stories, with guest appearances in each other’s on a regular. So I recommend reading all of them, but I can’t force you to make good life choices. Now, let’s begin.

Sukuna, the undisputed apex predator of the prehistoric world, wakes up.

This is already unacceptable.

Sukuna does not wake up confused.

Sukuna does not wake up with a headache the size of a mammoth's behind.

Sukuna does not wake up in a cave that is not his.

Yet here he is.

His nose twitches—this place smells wrong. The fire is too small. The air lacks the familiar stench of victory. And worst of all, the pile of furs beneath him? Not his.

Then, he sees you.

The audacity.

The sheer, reckless audacity of you.

Sitting there, cross-legged, casually sharpening a rock, as if you didn’t just bonk the most dangerous being alive on the head and drag him here like a sack of mammoth dung.

Sukuna moves to sit up—except he doesn’t.

His brain short-circuits.

His wrists and ankles are tied.

Him. Sukuna. The strongest. Bound like a common prey animal.

His first instinct? Murder.

His second? Murder, but angrier.

You glance up. See him glaring. Raise a smug eyebrow.

Then, with the infuriating calm of someone who does not fear death, you reach out and pat his head.

Oh.

You will pay for this.

He—a god among men, the most dangerous being alive—has been bonked and dragged to a cave like a defenseless animal.

By you.

But Sukuna is smort so he will find a way to escape.

He gets an idea immediately.

Sukuna is also stronk. These flimsy ropes should be nothing.

He flexes. Twists. Yanks.

He will be free in mere seconds—

The rope does not budge.

You observe him silently.

Your expressions unreadable.

Then you slowly grab a stick from beside you—

AND BONK HIM ON THE FOREHEAD!!!

His entire being vibrates with rage.

This—this has never happened before.

A second bonk follows.

His eye twitches.

Fine. You want a fight? Sukuna will not even need his hands.

He leans forward, bares his teeth, flexes every muscle he owns. His glare alone has sent cavemen running.

He exudes menace.

You yawn.

Then. Without hesitation.

You reach out and grab his chin.

He stops breathing.

Your grip is firm, but what’s worse—you squeeze his cheeks.

…Like he is an adorable little animal.

Rage. Shame. Disbelief.

You boop his nose.

HUMILIATION!!!

He will try again. NOT BECAUSE THIS FEELS NICE, but because he’s exhausted.

---

The next morning, you leave the cave.

Sukuna, apex predator, descends into rabid, frantic gnawing.

His teeth work overtime. His dignity is irrelevant.

He is almost free—

Then.

You return.

Carrying food.

His stomach betrays him.

Loudly.

You know. You heard.

You smirk.

Then you feed him.

Not throw the food at him. Not let him grab it himself. No. You hold it up to his mouth.

You expect him to take a bite.

Like some helpless captive wife.

He contemplates death.

Then. With slow, soul-crushing defeat—

He takes a bite.

Disgraceful.

---

Now that you have secured the beast, you begin the ritual.

Sukuna, still bound, watches with narrowed, suspicious eyes as you approach—arms full of rocks.

You drop them in front of him like a sacrificial offering.

Not just any rocks.

Sharp ones. Deadly ones. The kind that could easily pierce flesh, shatter bone, and end lives. (Unlike a certain white-haired idiot who collects useless shiny ones.)

Sukuna blinks.

Stares at the pile.

Then at you.

What is this? A challenge? An insult? An attempt at trickery?

He grunts. (What is this nonsense?)

You grunt back. (Good rocks. Kill things. Useful.)

His fingers twitch. Even bound, he is a warrior. And a warrior recognizes quality weaponry when he sees it.

This is… acceptable.

You nod, satisfied.

Then, just because you can, you pat his head.

Sukuna’s entire body stiffens.

You leave again and return moments later, dragging an actual, freshly hunted animal carcass.

Bigger than you.

Not stolen. (Unlike certain white-haired idiot. Maybe you learned what-not-to-do by watching him.)

Not leftovers scavenged from some beast’s kill.

This is primal.

Earned.

Dominant.

Sukuna sniffs the air.

His instincts kick in.

This is real food. Warrior’s food.

You tear a chunk of meat, toss it into a flame, let it sizzle and cook—the rich aroma fills the cave.

His stomach makes that sound again.

You hear it.

He knows you hear it.

You smirk and bring some cooked bits to his mouth.

Sukuna scowls, looking anywhere but at you.

His entire existence is suffering.

Then, with murderous reluctance, he eats.

It is good.

Too good.

Too competent.

He hates it.

---

It is time.

Sukuna does not know it is time. But it is.

You grab him by the scruff like a misbehaving cave bear cub and drag him to the river.

He thrashes.

Snarls.

He is Sukuna. Apex predator. The most dangerous being alive. He does not need cleaning.

You grunt. (You stink.)

Sukuna snaps his teeth at you. (I will kill you for this insult.)

You dunk him in the river.

It is instant chaos.

He thrashes like a drowning bison.

Water explodes in all directions.

A fish gets yeeted into the sky.

Birds evacuate the trees.

Somewhere, in the distance, an elder caveman sees the commotion and rethinks his entire existence. (It was just Yaga.)

But Sukuna is still tied.

So, in the end, it is just dramatic splashing.

His pride? Destroyed.

His dignity? Evaporated.

His hair? Now suspiciously soft.

You grunt approvingly. (Worthy mate.)

Sukuna glares death.

You pat his head.

He roars in betrayal.

---

The moment of truth.

You drag him back to the cave.

The fire flickers. The air is thick with something tense.

You crouch down.

And, without hesitation—

You untie him.

Sukuna freezes.

Oh.

Oh no.

He is free.

He should run.

He should crush you, burn this place down, reclaim his pride, and remind the world why he is the strongest.

But…

He does not move.

Instead, he stares.

At you.

At the organized cave.

At the good food.

At the comfort.

At the competence.

His stomach does a weird thing.

Not hunger.

Something else.

…Oh.

OH.

He has been courted.

By you.

A woman smaller than him?

The realization is devastating.

You smirk.

And, one more time…

You pat his head.

Sukuna growls.

But he does not leave.

---

Sukuna is suffering.

It has been days.

He should be fine.

He should be thriving.

He has good food, a strong cave, sharp rocks, and the privilege of not being bonked daily. (Progress…?)

But there is a problem.

He wants you.

Physically.

Desperately.

Like a fever in his bones.

Like an itch behind his ribs that he can’t reach.

Like an unrelenting cave mosquito bite, but worse because it is YOU, and mosquitoes die easily, but you refuse to perish.

You glare at him across the fire.

He glares back.

The air is thick. Heavy. Crackling with something primal.

But there is one fatal flaw.

Neither of you know what you’re doing.

You move first.

Sukuna tenses as you grab his chin again, your grip rough, firm—like you’re inspecting game.

His stomach does that thing again.

He does not like this.

He likes this too much.

You shove him down.

His brain shatters.

He snarls, trying to flip you over—to dominate. To win. But your grip on his wrists tightens, and suddenly,

HE. IS. PINNED.

His vision goes red.

THE AUDACITY.

THE. AUDACITY. Again for emphasis.

But then…

You do nothing.

You just stare at him.

Waiting.

Sukuna stares back.

…Now what?

Sukuna, desperate to reclaim dominance, growls.

Flips you over.

You flip him back.

He flips you again.

You reverse.

This goes on for ten minutes.

At this point, it is not romantic.

It is not primal.

It looks like two prehistoric idiots trying to invent wrestling.

Somewhere outside, an elder caveman hears the commotion, shakes his head, and decides to write cave poetry instead of mating this year. (It’s Ijichi and he’s not an elder, just looks like one.)

Inside the cave, the match continues.

Grunts.

Snarls.

Dirt flying everywhere.

At some point, you both just stop.

Panting. Staring. Confused.

Sukuna frowns. (This should be instinctual. Why is it not happening?)

You squint. (Maybe… different approach?)

He grabs your toes.

You instinctively kick him.

He growls.

You growl louder.

The problem is, neither of you know where to put things.

Hands? Everywhere.

Mouth? Nowhere near the right spots.

At one point, Sukuna headbutts you by accident.

You elbow him in retaliation.

Then he chokes on his own spit.

This is not going very well.

You pull back.

Stare at each other.

Both of you look deeply disappointed in the other.

Sukuna exhales sharply and grunts. (What now?)

You grunt back. (We… thonk.)

A silent, wordless truce is reached.

For now.

But the tension remains.

You glare.

Sukuna glares back.

This is not over.

Sukuna is determined.

You are determined.

Neither of you will be defeated.

---

So, the next night, you and Sukuna do what any couple of prehistoric idiots would do.

You watch Nanami.

For research.

This is a flawless plan.

A foolproof plan.

A brilliant plan.

It is not.

You and Sukuna are in the bushes.

Close.

Too close.

Way too close.

You are practically inside Nanami’s cave.

Sukuna’s arm brushes against yours. His breath is hot against your neck.

The scent of raw violence and bad decisions lingers in the air.

Neither of you acknowledge it.

You are professionals.

Well.

You are Neanderthals.

Same thing.

The fire inside Nanami’s cave casts perfect shadows on the walls.

A masterclass performance.

A step-by-step tutorial.

A once-in-a-lifetime learning opportunity.

Your tiny prehistoric brains absorb the data.

You both squint.

Sukuna nudges you and grunts. (That look right?)

You tilt your head. (Maybe…?)

You lean in.

Then Sukuna leans in.

Then you lean in more.

Then Sukuna leans in more.

You are practically between Nanami’s legs.

And then—

Nanami notices.

Nanami stops mid-....

Turns his head.

Narrows his dead, exhausted, so-done-with-life eyes.

Sukuna freezes.

You freeze.

There is a moment of tense silence.

A life-defining moment.

A moment where you both reconsider your entire existence.

Then.

Nanami picks up a rock.

A very big rock.

You both start to back away.

Slowly.

Carefully.

Retreat.

Disengage.

Escape.

Nanami does not care.

He hurls the rock.

Hard.

(Because unlike you two and a certain white-haired tribe fool, Nanami has a concept of privacy. And money does not exist yet, so no, he will not be starting an adult site. No. Thank. You.)

The rock sails through the air.

The trajectory is perfect.

The angle is flawless.

The impact should be devastating.

It should crush one of you on sight.

But instead—

It misses.

And instead—

It hits Gojo.

Who was minding his own business.

(Also watching Nanami with his woman for research.)

Gojo collapses instantly.

Directly onto his woman’s chest.

His woman looks down.

Pauses.

Then just shrugs and drags his lanky ass back into their cave.

Like this happens often.

Like she is used to this.

Like she has accepted her fate.

Meanwhile, you and Sukuna, still recovering from near-death-by-rock, decide that maybe this particular research method is flawed.

And with whatever dignity you have left,

You. Retreat.

Nanami’s woman yanks his hair back.

Nanami sighs.

Shakes his head.

Goes back to it.

As if this is normal.

As if he is unbothered, unfazed, and entirely too used to it by now because Gojo exists.

But now, you both have studied.

The blueprint has been acquired.

The forbidden knowledge is yours.

It is time.

Back in your cave, you and Sukuna recreate the motions.

At first, it is awkward.

Very awkward.

There is fumbling.

Some miscalculations.

At one point, Sukuna forgets what legs do.

He just stands there, confused.

You overcorrect.

And by overcorrect, you mean you accidentally knee him in the stomach.

Hard.

He folds in half like a poorly constructed shrubbery tent.

This is not going well.

Then—

Something clicks.

Sukuna growls.

Pins you down.

His grip is tight.

His eyes are dark.

His muscles flex.

He grunts. (Submit.)

You flip him over.

Your grip is tighter around his throat.

Your eyes deadlier.

Your muscles flex harder.

You grunt back. (No, you submit.)

Silence.

Sukuna pauses.

Then—

He lets you.

His pupils dilate.

His breath hitches.

Oh.

OH.

He likes this.

You smirk.

Something clicks (aka Evolution in Real-Time).

Then finally, it happens.

It is violent.

It is chaotic.

It is not historically accurate.

But it works.

Afterwards, Sukuna.exe has crashed.

He is a mess.

Sprawled out.

Chest heaving.

Staring at the ceiling like he just witnessed the invention of the calendar.

His brain is fried.

His life has changed.

Meanwhile, you stretch.

Feeling accomplished.

Victorious.

Like a goddess.

Sukuna, however, is still processing his entire existence.

He has been tamed.

Fully.

You pat his head.

He glares.

Weakly.

Then you crawl onto his chest and fall asleep like a starfish.

He just sighs.

This is his life now.

A/N: Well. That happened. I don’t know whether to feel proud, concerned, or vaguely threatened. Sukuna has officially entered his “I don’t know what just happened but I liked it” era, & frankly? He deserves to suffer.

Vote wisely. Or don’t. Nothing is wise in this story. 💀

Next chapter will be out soon :)

All Works Masterlist

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aingeal98 · 2 months ago

Note

No one asked so feel free to ignore this, but I think it’s a little bit reductive to view Willis as an abuser when nothing really states that in pre-flashpoint comics.

Like Cathrine getting “drug abuser” pushed onto her while her introduction just called her sick, and Willis being a criminal (working illegal street gambling), and getting painted as an abusive father/husband, paints a ugly picture on people’s bias towards poor families.

It’s kinda how people assume Steph was dirt poor like Jason when she’s stated she’s from the suburbs multiple times. (And while there are suburban ghettos it doesn’t really seem like her financial situation was ever as dire as Duke and Jason’s growing up.)

Very true! I do agree with all of this tbh. There was classism involved in how Catherine's initial illness went from just "sick" to drug use, and same for Willis. When I knew nothing about Jason except from reading wikis, batfam fics and Cass comics, I just thought Willis had always been the way Lobdell wrote him, and then when I actually read Jason's Robin comics I was like hm. That's a bit odd, maybe there's something I'm missing because he seems pretty absent but that's like. It. Jason clearly cares about him! But he can't be around because Batman and Robin need to be a thing.

Since then I've read a lot of good meta from Jason fans on the topic, most of them were along the lines of what you're saying, pointing out the classism at play that's always damned Jason since he was first rebooted from a circus kid. However I've also seen good meta about Robin Jason's anger towards abusive men, and how bitter some of his speech is, that made me a bit more open minded towards the idea of bad dad Willis. I don't really mind when fans want to explore how Willis may have contributed to that mindset Jason had, but it crosses into ick territory for me when they use it as an excuse to prop up Bruce, who's canonically a much worse father. Ultimately I think what it comes down to for me is if the headcanon is done in a way to reinforce the classism at play in the narrative, or if it's aware of what Jason's up against and not trying to paint Willis as naturally abusive due to being poor and a criminal. YMMV on whether the person writing the meta/fic manages to land the headcanon well, but whereas before I used to have a "ew" gut reaction to seeing bad dad Willis, nowadays I'm willing to wait until I've read the full meta/fic to decide if I like it or not. In the comics though? Yeah fuck that, no thank you. I don't trust them to do it in a way that doesn't glorify Bruce for "saving" Jason from a doomed destiny.

It's interesting that you brought up Steph though because I do see her, Jason and Duke as three different perspectives of growing up Not Rich in Gotham. Jason obviously had it the worst, dirt poor. I do think Steph was meant to be in a bad financial state at the start of her appearances, despite living in the suburbs. But there was a clear progression in the comics of her and Crystal getting better and more stable, which is an interesting contradiction of Dixon's. He hated women and poor people and it showed in how he wrote Steph, but he also liked Steph, as much as he could like a female character while being so misogynistic. So she was given the rare opportunity to escape from the poverty he initially wrote her in, to be one of the 'good ones' who worked hard and got out. And then DC killed her, because even if she managed to make it out of poverty, she couldn't escape from being a girl.

And then there's Duke, who's from the Narrows and who's dad was a non union worker at one point (the monologue Duke gave about the shadow crews was so good PLEASE dc give me more of that Gotham worldbuilding from Duke's pov). There's so much there that still hasn't been fully explored and I'm hungry for more because despite everything going on during Zero Year, when we first meet him he and his family seem stable. It's almost like a reverse of Steph, where location wise he's in a poor area of the city but in terms of how his house looks like it seems fine! Whereas Steph is in the suburbs but her house initially looks... not great. So I'd put him at around the same level as Steph financially just based on living in the Tracy Towers and what we know of his parents careers, but with a much less toxic family situation, which meant that they were probably more secure in their finances even when the Riddler was around pulling some fuckshit. And obviously after the Joker attack he's in the foster system and then in the Manor and then living with a cousin. I need DC to give us more on the Thomas family like we don't even know if his dad is well or still Jokerized! And he stands to be such an interesting contrast to both Steph and Jason. Robins two four and six, three different ways of growing up in Gotham when you're not rich as hell, the similarities and differences between them... I don't trust DC to write it well but I want it all the same.

This turned into a big ramble lmao but thank you for the ask!

#dc #dc rambles #asks #jason todd #batfam #stephanie brown #duke thomas #very much open to different perspectives and opinions on this. it's not something I've thought about a ton so I'm mostly just saying #my current impression which is based on reading their comics and then reading fan discussions and fics #not rotating them in my mind 24/7 like I do with Cass

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junovrsmp4 · 6 months ago

Text

one of the girls

part 2. the escalation

read part 1. here

Chris Sturniolo was bad news. You knew it, every girl within a 100 mile radius knew it. Your own brother had warned you to stay away from him, despite being his best friend. That didn’t stop you from wanting him though.

pairing: chris x reader

pt.2 summary: your addiction grows stronger. and things escalate, until Chris leaves. things get better, until he comes back, and you're right where you started.

warnings: ABSOLUTE FILTH, very very plot heavy, rough sex, oral, choking, over-stimulation, mild bdsm, p in v, degradation, slight age gap, zero communication, angst

word count: 6.9K (lmao i think this is going to be a thing)

author's note: so, i found out as i was writing this that @worldlxvlys has a fic with a very similar premise because its inspired by the same song, check it out if u havent already, its so fucking good

Sex with Chris became frequent after that night at the party.

It was a rush, like being swept up in a storm, each moment together like a collision between two giant forces. Rough, loud, painful, and so, so satisfying.

You were currently on your knees, face pressed against the coarse carpet that covered the floor of your bedroom and your ass high in the air, being pounded by the guy who had taken up significant space in your life over the years.

Thank the lucky stars you were home alone tonight, because there would have been no doubt about what was happening in your room.

“Fuck, fuck-” Chris groans, and you feel the way he grips your ass and spreads you apart, likely to watch his own dick moving in and out of your stretched-out pussy. “You’re always so fucking tight-” he says, punctuating his words with hard thrusts.

All you can do is moan loudly against the carpet, your mouth agape as you squeeze around his unrelenting thrusts. You can’t even tell how long it goes, only that he makes you cum, over and over, until he eventually chases his own release.

The clean-up that followed the sex was always quick but efficient, always done in silence. And once Chris was done with that, he always left with a quick kiss and pat to the cheek.

Sex with Chris hurt in the best way possible, and left you craving for more. And he never kept you waiting for long. You don’t think too hard about all the other places he must be getting sex, all you focus on is the fact that he always comes to you eventually, even if you don’t call for him.

-------------------------------------

“Chris-” you whine against his mouth as he thrusts up into you, the head of his dick ramming into that spongy bundle of nerves inside you that whites out your vision and has you gasping for air. Your hands find purchase on his shoulders, nails digging into the fabric of his t-shirt, stretching it as you pull, pull, pull, while he pushes, pushes, pushes into you, his lips sliding over your cheek, barely audible groans escaping him as he holds you back against the counter in this random bathroom at this random house party.

The noise outside the bathroom is loud enough to drown out the sounds of Chris fucking you, devouring you, and your head thrums from the bass, the sensation in your body reduced to just that spot inside you, your lower back, where the edge of the counter digs into your skin, likely leaving bruises, and your hips, where Chris’ hands grab and knead at the flesh as he drags you down onto his cock while thrusting up into you, over and over and over.

If anyone noticed how you limped for the rest of the night, no one pointed it out.

-------------------------------------

Another party, another chase. You’d spent a good hour and a half keeping Chris on his toes as you trailed from room to room, flirting with other guys and getting increasingly tipsy. At least, that’s what you’d thought, until you spotted him leaning over some girl, trailing his fingers up her thigh.

You’d decided to just grab the guy closest to you, quickly ask for his name before demanding that you kiss him, and he does, does it with fervor as he runs his hands all over you, trailing them up over the back of your thighs before kneading your ass cheeks over your jeans, pulling you close. Through the corner of your eye, you see Chris, now kissing the girl he had been talking to, except his eyes are locked onto yours.

You watch the corner of his lips lift slightly, and you feel like you keep losing this game you created in your head.

Ten minutes later, Chris has you on your knees on the bathroom floor, the cold tiles digging into your skin as he shoves his dick into your willing, open mouth. He uses you, makes you choke and gag on it, tears streaming down your face and spit trailing down your chin as he thrusts it in and out of you.

Another ten minutes, before he comes down your throat and shoves you off his cock, leaving you gasping for air.

He doesn’t say a word as he extends his leg forward, pressing the toe of his shoe against your clothed cunt, rubbing it against your jeans.

You know what he wants. So you give it to him.

You rut against his shoe, clawing at his leg as you sob and beg for more.

“What was that?” he asks with a mocking tone. “You want to get fucked?”

You nod furiously, forehead pressed against his thigh.

“Go ask that guy you were all over earlier.”

That was the first night you’d kissed a guy that wasn’t Chris, and in front of him too. It was also the first night he’d left you without making you cum.

-------------------------------------

Chris had one hand clamped tightly over your mouth, while the other was trapped between you, furiously stroking over his dick while he rutted against your stomach.

You’d barely had the time to process it at the time, but Chris had climbed into your room through the open window and proceeded to pin you down on your bed and kiss you fiercely.

That was a few hours ago. Since then he had fucked you twice, once on your back, before he’d flipped you over and fucked you on your knees, your face pushed into your duvet and his hand still clamped over your mouth to make sure you didn’t get too loud.

“You’re so good, you always take it so well.”

“Such a good girl for me, you like that don’t you?”

“You’re mine, yeah? Tell me. Only mine.”

“One more, you can take one more right?”

And you did take more, over and over and over again. Because it felt good. Only because it felt so good, despite the growing pang in your chest that became stronger every time Chris left.

-------------------------------------

Chris was…an enigma.

Despite the casual nature of your ‘relationship’, Chris tended to say and do things that confused you. And perhaps that was what got so many girls hooked onto him. The way he treated you like you were all his, all that he wanted, even though his womanizing nature was well-known.

At first, it seemed like a calculated move on his part, like he knew exactly what he was implying with his words and actions, a vague promise for more, even when both he and his girls knew there was no chance of it happening.

The more time you spent with him however, the more clear it became that Chris seemed almost sincere most of the time. Or maybe that was the delusional part of you, hoping he might be?

Is this what all the other girls he’s with go through? A constant spiral of wondering what was real and wasn’t, with their relationship with Chris?

A soft snore pulls you out of your thoughts and back to reality, where Chris, the man who usually doesn’t stay long once he’s done the deed, was now sleeping under your covers, one arm slung across your middle, while you leaned against your pillows.

It was surreal, seeing him like this, looking the most vulnerable you’ve ever seen him. You’d expected him to help clean you up and leave as soon as he’d fucked you, but instead, he’d stayed, waited for you to take a quick shower, before he too snuck into your bathroom to clean up and eventually crawled back under your covers.

It wasn’t the first time he’d stayed, but you still find yourself asking-

“What are you doing?”

“Shh, I’m tired, let’s sleep for a bit,” he mumbles, eyes already closed, one arm hanging off the edge of your bed, while the other pulls you close.

“Isn’t this like, against your rule or something?” you ask, trying to fight back the urge to cuddle up against him and run your fingers through his hair. It looked so soft, fanning against your pillow, the moonlight creating a slight halo around him.

He looked beautiful.

“Do you do this with your other girls?” Another question you’d asked before, the first time he’d slept over.

All he does is hum dismissively in response, just like last time.

You settle down under the covers, relishing in the warmth of Chris’ body, exhaustion from your earlier activities settling into your bones as the fresh scent of your own body wash wafting off of both of your skins sends you off into a dreamless sleep.

Hours later, just before sunrise, you’re startled awake by the sound of a branch hitting your window. It was still dark, but there was the noticeable lack of a body next to you, and the warmth that was quickly fading.

That was the one of the rare nights when Chris had stayed the night. And just like always, he left without a trace, the only reminder of his presence being the soreness between your legs and used condoms and tissues in the waste basket under your desk.

-------------------------------------

You knew this was getting out of hand.

Things were only escalating with Chris. What had started out as an experiment of sorts, a game, one that barely had rules to begin with, was starting to feel like a trap. The way he was attentive and disinterested in equal measure, the way he was so attuned to your pleasure and somehow still came across as a selfish jerk who only cared for his own, the way he always, always made it hurt in just the right way…it was almost degrading how exhilarated it made you feel.

You hadn’t accounted for how addictive Chris would become.

Speaking of addiction, you were currently experiencing withdrawal symptoms.

You pull out your phone and scroll through the last few texts you’d exchanged with Chris.

> Can i come over?

> uh..is everything okay?

> Yeah.

> Why?

> u usually just.. show up lol, why’re u asking this time?

> Heard you were prepping for college apps

> yeah

> Busy?

> kinda? u can still come over if u want..

> it’s been a while

> Have you been counting the days since we last fucked? Lol

> shut up ohmygod

> r u coming over or not?

> Yeah, gimme a few.

> okay

That had been a week ago. Chris had never showed up.

You had tried your best to ignore how hurt you’d felt. You’d instead just focused on your applications, working on your essays and filling out endless forms. You’d even gone out with your friends to take your mind off of everything, attempted to hook up with another older guy at a bar, but he’d turned out to be much older, and married at that, which had put you in an even more sour mood than before. You’d promptly decided to go back home then.

Your shitty mood must have been really obvious, because your brother, who was back home for break from college, showed up at your bedroom door, leaning against the frame as he watched you do your nightly skincare routine. He’d seen the way you’d walked up to your room, scowl so deep with a faraway look in your eyes.

“Did something happen at the bar?” he asked, stepping into your room and closing the door to make sure your parents wouldn’t overhear your conversation.

You pause, watching him through your vanity mirror as he flops onto your bed, displacing your carefully placed pillows and plushies, sending one of them tumbling to the ground.

A deep inhale.

“No, nothing happened,” you say with a deep sigh. “Well, there was this one guy-”

“Fucking hell, what’d he do?” your brother interrupts.

“Relax, nothing happened. He was flirting with me, but turns out he was married. Made me feel icky so I left right after.”

“Oh, okay. What a loser.”

“I know, right?”

You and your brother enjoy the special kind of comfortable silence that only being in each other’s company provided.

“You’ve been kind of off lately,” he finally says. “You wanna, um… you wanna talk about it?”

So much for comfortable silence.

After a few long seconds, you reply. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

“You’re kind of a shit liar, kid.”

You ignore him, focusing instead on smoothing some oil into your hair before braiding it. Behind you, your brother sighs, shifting on your bed. Incrementally, his sighs get louder, and he rolls back and forth on your bed, rustling up the covers and making an even bigger mess than before.

“Stop that, will you?” you snap at him, glowering at him through your mirror.

“I’m bored.”

“Go be bored anywhere else.”

“Not leaving until you tell me what’s been bothering you.”

“Get out.”

“Nuhuh.”

“You’re so annoying, oh my fucking god- stop messing up my bed!” you yell, chucking your hairbrush at him. You let out a satisfied chuckle when you hear a yelp.

Silence.

“Want to go on a drive? Like we used to?”

You turn to face your brother who is now sitting up on your bed, legs crossed as he picks at one of our plushies. When your don’t answer right away, he looks up at you, giving you a conspiratorial grin.

“Let’s sneak out and get food,” he whispers, eyes wide and eyebrows raised with a wolfish smile.

It makes you laugh, the idea of sneaking out as a fully grown adult with your older adult brother, and you won’t know until much later, but your brother had let out a sigh of relief at seeing you relax a bit.

Abandoning your plans to head to bed, you and your brother quietly make your way downstairs, grab your jackets and head out in his car, and everything felt simple again. The two of you used to do this a lot more often when he was still in school. Every time you seemed stressed, he would suggest an impromptu late night drive around the town, making stops at either a gas station or one of the many restaurants near you to get a late night snack.

You sat, once again in comfortable silence, listening to a song you didn’t recognize softly playing through the car radio, as the two of you dug into the lamb shawarmas you’d decided to get as tonight’s late night snack.

“Oh, this shit’s so fucking good,” your brother groaned through a big, messy bite, making you laugh and gag at the same time, and you shove at his shoulder, exclaiming about how gross he was being, before the two of you just end up shoving at each other and giggling like little kids.

You felt good. Normal.

“You know you can talk to me about anything right,” he says, sauce still smeared across his lip and cheek.

“I know, I know,” you say, as you shove a few napkins into his face.

“Unless it’s about sex. I don’t wanna hear about you fucking some dude. Or girl, I don’t care.”

“Wow, okay.”

“But if what’s got you down- and don’t lie, I know something’s up- has something to do with some guy- or girl, like I said, I don’t care- you’ll tell me if it gets too bad right?”

“Define ‘too bad’…,” you say, picking at the wrapper on your now half-eaten shawarma.

“Don’t want you to get hurt, kid, that’s all.”

You look up at your brother, who is looking straight ahead, still chowing on his food. You feel overwhelmed suddenly, and everything from the past week catches up to you.

The stress from wondering if you’ll get into college, the doubt from figuring out if college was even what you wanted to do, and then there was Chris, and oh, how could you tell your brother about any of that? He would absolutely flip, and you feel so ashamed.

You settle on telling him it’s just the stress of college applications.

“Right,” he says, drawing out the word. “Makes sense, makes sense. You know, if you need help with any of it, just let me know yeah?”

You weren’t going to ask him for help. You nod anyway.

��Oh, by the way,” your brother turns to you, leaning against the car door with an excited gleam in his eyes. “Did you hear? The triplets are going to L.A.!”

“What.”

“Yeah! Apparently, their channel is really hitting it off, so they’re like prepping to move there, ‘cause that’s where all the youtubers and influencers are, right? More opportunities and things like that. Isn’t that cool? I’m excited for ‘em.”

Your brother goes back to blissfully munching on his food, leaving you shell shocked and dazed.

“Yeah…good for them.”

-------------------------------------

The next couple of days went by in a blur. You threw yourself into applications, now extending them into a job search to desperately keep yourself occupied. The initial plan had been to take a gap year after school, which is why you’d been so lax with your college prep. Some of your friends had already heard back from their dream schools and were already preparing to move to different places for the upcoming academic year, some were already working, and you were just, in limbo. And you didn’t mind until now, until you’d realized that you’d end up getting left behind by everyone.

Even…Chris.

That asshole still hadn’t texted or called, and the only time you heard about him was through your brother when he’d vaguely mention about seeing the triplets when he went over to their house. You knew that you could just as well contact him, but pride and your hurt feelings kept you from doing so. Instead, you wallowed in shame and anger at having let this man leave you feeling so disoriented.

This wasn't the plan. The plan had been to hit it and quit it, see what the hype around Chris was all about but he’d managed to crawl under your skin, leave you wanting more.

Just as you’re about to work yourself into another spiral over the man, you hear a series of sharp taps against your bedroom window. You look up, startled, to find exactly the person you didn’t want to see right now.

“Since when do you lock your bedroom window?” you hear Chris ask, voice muffled through the glass.

You remain seated on your bed, leaning against your pillows, frozen, before you slowly pick your phone up from where you’d dropped it beside you, and pretend to mindlessly scroll through it.

“Let me in, babe, c’mon-”

A few more seconds go by, with Chris alternating between tapping your window and texting you to get your attention. Worried that he might end up waking the whole house, you finally make a move to open your window.

“I almost fell off that fucking tree waiting for you to-” Chris starts to say, but one look at your face has him stopping in his tracks.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?”

You weren’t sure what he was seeing, but you could feel a knot building up in your throat, a slight tremor in your limbs. The last thing you wanted to do was cry in front of this man.

“What do you want, Chris?” you ask, sitting down on the edge of your bed, refusing to look at him, instead focusing on a loose thread on your sheets, picking at it while trying to get your breathing under control.

You feel him step closer to you, until he’s standing right in front of you, your face now level with his waist. Chris’ hand comes up to grab your chin, lifting your head up with a gentleness that surprises you.

“You mad at me, baby?” he asks with a soft smile, and it throws you off, makes you angry, because why the fuck did he have to go sounding like a boyfriend coming home to a girlfriend who’d gotten upset over something trivial?

You huff, rolling your eyes at him, which makes him grab your chin slightly harder.

“Don’t give me that attitude right now,” he says, voice dropping an octave. “Why wouldn’t you let me in?”

Your attempt at looking passive was failing, and anger takes over, making you glare daggers at him.

“Two weeks, Chris. Almost two weeks of radio silence, and what, you expect me to just be here waiting for with open arms? What the fuck is wrong with you?” you spit out, smacking his arm away from you, making him let you go.

“Oh come on,” he drawls out, body going half limp as he lets his head roll back. “I got busy! Didn’t think you’d be this mad, and- and, hold on- I didn’t expect you to be waiting for me, I just don’t get why you’re mad!”

“You’re such an asshole.”

“Well yeah, but you already knew that, didn’t you,” he says with a cocky smile, hands reaching out to grab yours. “Stop being so upset, I’m here now, yeah?”

“You can’t just show up whenever it’s convenient for you and expect me to be okay with that. You made plans that night to come to me and just ghosted me! For weeks!”

He looks puzzled, like he genuinely doesn’t understand why you would be upset and that just makes you even more upset.

You feel like an afterthought to him. To a man who had taken up significant space in your life, you were just…nothing. And you can’t blame anyone but yourself for this situation you’re in because you knew **what you were getting into, you knew this was all it would be and yet…

“When were you going to tell me you were leaving?”

Chris freezes up, his fingers that were running up and down your arms stilling against your elbows.

After a brief pause, he sighs, dropping to his knees in front of you and burrowing his head into your lap, bringing your hands up around his shoulders.

“How’d you find out?” he asks, voice muffled against your t-shirt. “Wait, let me guess. Your big-mouth brother?”

That makes you chuckle. “Yeah, he mentioned it a few nights ago.”

“I wasn’t lying, I’ve been busy preparing to leave. Nick is the one working on the logistics mostly, but yeah…”

“You could’ve said something,” you whisper, hand coming up to hover over Chris’ head. It seems like Chris senses your hesitation, because he grabs your hand and places it on his head, which you take as permission to run your fingers through the soft strands, combing through the slight knots that were close to his nape and gently smoothing it out.

“We weren’t gonna tell anyone until we had everything figured out.”

“So how did my brother find out?”

“Stupid Matt probably mentioned it when he came over.”

In a distant part of your mind, you think about how weird this all is, having Chris like this, soft and vulnerable, so unlike his usual domineering self. You’re still upset with him, but it feels nice, having this Chris.

“I’m still mad at you.”

“I know. I didn’t wanna slip up and end up telling you, which is why I stayed away for a bit.”

“You still could’ve texted, told me something came up.”

“I know,” he whines. “Would you believe me if I said I did mean to text you but every time I thought about it, something else would come up and eventually I just…forgot.”

“Right. You forgot.”

The sharp pain in your chest was starting to feel normal in conjecture with Chris at this point. Of course he just forgot to text you, because that’s how insignificant you were to him.

You pull your hand away from his hair and gently try to move out from under him.

“When are you leaving?” you ask, sitting at your desk to put some physical distance between the two of you, even though your body was screaming to just fall into his arms.

Chris looks at you with an expression you can’t read, before moving to sit on your floor and lean against your bed frame, leaning his elbows over his knees.

“End of the week.”

“That’s two days away.”

He hums, letting his head drop back against your bed.

“Guess your roster of girls are going to have to find a new way to occupy their time, huh?” you say in hopes of lightening the mood.

It undoubtedly does the opposite.

Chris makes a noise that sounds somewhere between a laugh and a scoff. He lifts his head back up and fixes you with a gaze that makes you shiver, his eyes now cold and distant as he smirks up at you.

“One last fuck before I leave? You can find another guy after that, but I doubt anyone here is gonna be anywhere near as good as me,” he says as he runs his fingers through his hair.

And that’s how you find yourself under Chris, wrists caught in his hands and held up above your head as he fucks into you.

It’s different this time.

He watches you intently, and it makes you uncomfortable, his unrelenting gaze, but your focus is split between that and the fact that he’s fucking you with deep, slow drags of his cock against your inner walls. He’d eaten you out right before, worked you up and left you wet and sloppy, close to squirting before pushing into you, eyes locked onto your face as he slowly stretched you out.

You could feel it build up inside you, the pressure to release, but he was going slower than usual, focusing on fewer but deeper thrusts that left you biting into your lip to keep you from crying out loud.

“Tell me, who’s gonna fuck you like this, hm?” Chris asks, his free hand coming up to wrap around your throat. “Tell me.”

You gasp, your pussy clenching around him as he tightens his grip around your throat.

“No one,” you breathe out, voice low and rough from your throat being squeezed. “No one, no one else, please-”

“Yeah? You’re mine, aren’t you?”

You nod against his grip, near sobbing at this point, begging for him to just fuck you harder and let you cum.

“Say it. Say the words”

“I’m yours, I’m yours, please- please fuck me harder, please-”

Chris lets go of your wrists, but you keep them where they were, and he lets out a satisfied hum which has you preening.

Chris sits up, his hands moving to grab your hips, and you brace yourself to be fucked hard, but Chris keeps up with the slow pace still, as he pulls you onto his lap, making you cry out in frustration, a fresh set of pleas falling from your lips in hopes of urging him to just take from you like he usually does.

You watch through blurry, tear-filled vision as Chris runs his hands up your stomach, palming at your breasts while he bucks up into you.

“Chris, please…”

He ignores you, fingers now drawing invisible lines across the planes and curves of your body, thumbs dipping into the crease between your cunt and thighs, feeling you all over while he watches you with his intense blue eyes.

You almost miss it, what with the blood rushing in your ears and your own moans, but you hear Chris whisper, “I’m going to miss this.”

And that’s what sends you over the edge, the prospect of Chris missing you, even though a rational part of you knows it’s probably just the sex, just this, your warm body under his to be used by him.

Still, it makes you cum harder than you ever have before, leaves you sobbing and almost screaming. Chris holds down your body, your hips thrashing wildly as your cunt leaks and squeezes rhythmically around him, which sets him off and makes him come inside you.

Everything after that follows as usual. He rolls off of you, methodically cleans the both of you off, discards the used condoms and tissues, and tells you he’s leaving.

You watch as he makes his way to your window, back tense as he runs his fingers through his mussed up hair.

“Bye,” you whisper, trying to ignore the fact that it will be a while until you see him again in person. Months, maybe a year, instead of just a week and a half.

Chris turns then, and you can’t make out his expression in the dark, with his back lit by the moonlight.

You watch, breath catching in your throat as he makes his way back to you, hesitating for the first few steps.

He leans over you, knees bent awkwardly as he angles himself to your height. His hands come up to rest over your cheeks, thumbs rubbing across them, before he completely takes you by surprise with a final kiss.

It’s not the kiss itself that catches you off-guard, but the gentleness and timing of it. You and Chris have kissed before, in fact, you’d done it every time he’d fucked you, but only during. Always during. Never after.

He nips at your bottom lip, licking into your mouth when you gasp, his fingers carding through your hair as he angles your head to deepen the kiss. Your hands clutch at the front of his shirt, stretching the fabric. The next few moments are just this, soft touches as you break apart and keeping going back in for more, quiet but heavy breathing in your dark room as you drink each other in.

You feel tears building up behind your closed eyelids, melting into his touch, and it’s almost funny how much this feels like you’re bidding farewell to a long-time, steady lover. One who wasn’t just a casual sex partner.

It makes you laugh, a wet sound that barely covers up the sob that follows it, and Chris chuckles too, leaning his forehead against yours.

“What the fuck am I doing?” he asks to no one in particular.

“I don’t know, Chris,” you answer anyway, your fingers playing with the chain on his neck. “You tell me.”

One more kiss, pressed hard against your lips with a sigh, before he stands back up and makes his way back to your window.

“I’ll see you later,” he says without turning back.

And with that, he was gone.

That was the first and last night Chris had kissed you after sex. It was also the last night you’d see him before he left for L.A.

-------------------------------------

You hadn't realized how big of a gap Chris would leave in your life.

Things kept changing, time kept moving, albeit slowly, but you were still waiting to catch up with everyone else.

You try to fill the void by hanging out with your friends, getting drunk and high, chasing phantoms of Chris at different parties, finding yourself pressed between bodies that were distinctly not his.

You dated. Like, actually tried. Chris had been in your life since you were sixteen, and you hadn’t sought out anyone for two years after that, but it was high time. You’d stayed loyal to a guy who wasn’t your boyfriend and maybe that had been your mistake. Maybe you should’ve pulled a page out of Chris’ book and just slept around like he did, maybe then you wouldn’t have felt so…lost right now.

But you hadn’t wanted anyone else. Not like you wanted him.

Still, you tried, but it was becoming increasingly clear that you had a pattern. The only guys you ended up actually talking to all happened to be older than you, friends, or friends of friends, of your brother. Subconsciously, you were probably seeking out for a proxy of Chris, some way to replace him in the best way you could.

Elijah had been sweet. He took you out on dates, bought you gifts, and was a real gentleman. Your brother had eventually caught on, and when you’d expected him to be mad, he’d actually approved, told you that Elijah was a good guy and that he trusted him to take care of you. That didn’t stop him from giving Elijah the shovel talk though.

It was good, for a while. Elijah was sweet, maybe too sweet. He was soft with his affection, and it made you feel undeserving.

You felt broken, for being unsatisfied with a man as amazing as him.

The breakup was rough. There were tears, both of you an absolute mess as you tried to explain why you were feeling the way you did without giving away too much, and to his credit, Elijah took it well. He was respectful, didn’t pry, and wished you the best.

“I’ve grown to care for you, a lot,” he’d said, holding your hands in his. “I want you to be happy, and if that’s not with me, I’ll just have to learn to live with it.”

You hadn’t realized how serious it had been for him.

You felt like a bitch.

Jason was…wild. He was loud and obnoxious in a fun way, and reminded you of a certain someone. The two of you had hooked up in the back of his car upon your second meeting at a bar, the first one being at your house when he’d come over with a bunch of other guys to help your brother move out and into his own apartment closer to the city.

It didn’t last long. He was not a good lay, and that was that.

-------------------------------------

Ray was amazing. You started talking to him a little after you’d decided to go to community college to get your life in track. You’d gotten accepted into a few colleges of your choice, but in the end, you still didn’t know what you really wanted to do, when the local community college’s brochure caught your eye, and you found some exciting writing and teaching courses.

Ray was supportive, knew what he wanted and got you thinking about what you wanted too. A great listener, and even greater in bed. He was a little emotionally distant sometimes, but even that he’d patiently talked to you about, explaining how he had a hard time expressing emotions in front of people.

You were still going strong, many months into talking and dating, and he had yet to do anything that put you off. He’d even come over to your house for dinner with your parents and brother, and everything had gone well.

Days were exciting again, especially with an amazing boyfriend who you seemed to match really well with. The two of you were amazing at communicating, especially because Ray was good at it, and he was influencing you in such a positive way. You were also sexually so, so compatible, and it just, worked.

Everything was going well.

Until one night, when you’re getting ready to go on a date with Ray, and you hear voices downstairs, loud excited exchanges. You figure it’s Ray and your brother just chatting it up before you have to leave, so you hurry up, fix your hair and put on your heels, before rushing downstairs to greet your man.

The sight that greets you has you stopping dead in your tracks.

“Oh.”

At the sound of your voice, all heads in the room turn toward you. Nick, Matt, and Chris had come back to visit their family, and had decided to stop by your place to see their best friend. Your parents and your brother were there too, and suddenly everyone is exclaiming about how great you look.

You feel disoriented, trying to keep your reaction normal as you brush off compliments from your parents, Nick and Matt. Your brother just rolls his eyes with an affectionate look, while Chris remains silent, his eyes raking over your figure.

“Well, you’re way too dressed up to just be hanging out with friends,” Matt comments eventually. “Date?”

Your mother answers for you. “Oh, she’s been seeing Ray! He’s such a nice boy.”

Your father grunts, muttering something under his breath but nodding all the same.

To anyone else, besides his brothers perhaps, Chris looked like the picture of impassive, but you’d learned to read his body language over the years.

He was pissed. You could tell.

Thing is, even after Chris had left, the two of you had kept in touch. You’d done your best to avoid watching the triplets’ videos, especially after you’d come across ones that featured Chris with different influencers, the prettiest girls you’d ever seen. You didn’t need to work yourself up over the fact that he was around all these beautiful people now. It didn’t matter anymore.

But avoiding the videos was different from avoiding the man himself. You couldn’t help it, texting him every now and then, asking about life in L.A. He always answered, even if sometimes it was days late. Neither of you brought up what had transpired on the last night he’d spent with you before he left, and neither of you talked about the casual sex that had preceded it.

It was an interesting development, talking to Chris like he was just another friend. He didn’t seem like he way trying too hard to maintain a certain facade, like he was trying to hide parts of him.

The two of you talked a lot more in the almost one year apart than you did in the two years you’d been in each other’s vicinity.

You’d conveniently left out the part about you dating Ray though, or any of the other guys, from all your conversations. You didn’t feel the need to. It’s not like Chris was talking about all the dates he was going on, and you were sure there were plenty of those back in L.A., so in the interest of keeping things friendly and casual and normal, you didn’t talk about your love life.

You announce to the room that you’re going to grab a drink from the kitchen, hoping to escape the chaos and wait for Ray in there.

Your parents retreat back to their room. You hear your brother and the triplets chat for a while before you hear Chris ask if there was any Pepsi in the house. You hear your brother offer to grab him one, but he politely says he’d just get it himself.

A few beats of silence, before you hear soft footsteps that get louder as they get closer to the kitchen.

“How long?” Chris asks, as he appears in the doorway of the kitchen.

“What?” you ask, hands gripping the counter as you watch him move closer to you.

“Ray. How long have you been seeing him?”

He pauses right in front of you, towering over you, as he waits for you to answer.

“It’ll be our six month anniversary in a couple of days,” you answer, looking down and choosing to focus on your own clothes, picking at a hem of your sleeve.

“Funny, you didn’t mention him in any of your texts.”

“Didn’t feel the need to,” you reply, turning your head to the side when you feel his face moving closer to yours. “Besides, it’s not like you were telling me about all the people you were dating back in L.A.”

“I wasn’t dating anyone.”

“Dating, fucking, whatever.”

Chris tenses at that, before stepping closer, hands caging you against the counter, and you catch the faint whiff of weed on his clothes.

“You look good,” he finally says, hand coming up to brush against the fabric of your dress where it was cut against your thigh.

“Thank you,” you mumble, wondering how no one had come in to see what’s taking either of you so long in the kitchen.

Just as you’re about to suggest that you both go back outside to sit with others, before you do something you regret, you hear the doorbell ring, and Ray’s voice calling out for you.

You jump, trying to get past Chris, but his hands stay where they are, palms on the counter as his head drops to your shoulder, mumbling something you couldn’t quite catch.

“What?”

“I missed you, baby. Couldn’t fuck anyone without thinking of you.”

And before you know it, he’s stepping away and backing out of the kitchen, his Pepsi forgotten on the counter.

You stay frozen, trying to process what happened. Ray eventually comes to you in the kitchen, greets you with a smile and a deep kiss, tells you how beautiful you look before whisking you away and into his car for your date.

And the whole time, all you can think about is Chris.

author’s note: idk how i feel about this one, it's plot heavy and angsty and i feel like idk idk if anyone's gonna like it but here (: likes, comments and reblogs r much appreciated <3

taglist 🩵 (comment on my pinned post to be added or removed):

@luverboychris @bigbeefybitch @liz-stxrn @slut4chriss @slut4mattsturnio1o @sturniolosgirl @coochiedestroyer1 @cutiepiess4l @kvtie44 @vschrissturn @hercigaretteblush @fwskullz @m4rriii @anabanana28 @sturniolosange1 @webbersturn @odeezier @johnniesrealwife @freshsturns @marlenafortuna @carolineheartsmatthew @incndescentglow @starniolosposts @urfavgirllyyyyy @mattsturniolosworld @lilyloveschris @sturniozo @lookingformyromeo @heartss4matthewq @lanasturniolo @zina25sworld @ezziewinchester @s-s-842 @sturnlova @whyarefictionalmennotreal @55sturn @cheetahmadi @sturniolowhore @cupidsword @sturnsblog @lovehoneygirll @breeloveschris @littlemisswhore @worldlxvlys @sturniolo04 @sturnioloco @littlemisswhore @pandacake128 @chrizznmetswife @spideylovin @sturnclouds

#junovrs writes #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader

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theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming · 19 days ago

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Nicole Reads A Lot of Fanfiction (and she's gonna share it with you): Week 16

Week [1] [2] [3] [4/5/6] [7] [8] [9] [10/11] [12/13] [14] [15]

Alright. Here we are with Week 16.

It's been a week of living in Delulu land. A warning for this Rec List: if the fic is in orange (or contains orange like that one fic I did in both colors) it is a POST 8x15 Fic. Now some might be a little speculation or ignoring canon but... If you are not in the mental space for what that may entail, stay clear of those fics :)

Sterek: 2 Buddie: 18 (8 post 8x15)

Find Me At The Tree (Waiting For You) by Arvak (2025•M•15.8K)

He'd seen it on the Nature Channel: Yellowstone National Park, one of the greatest marvels of nature, nestled right nearby in the good ol' Western States. And on a complete whim, he'd decided to pack the car and hit the road to get the hell away from customers and bosses and traffic and bills. He never expected to come face to face with a wolf. Or, rather, a werewolf who'd had very similar thoughts to his own, and who was much worse at social interaction. - OR - A total therapy fic about escape and freedom and achieving a better life that I hope you might enjoy as well.

Magna Cum Ardoriter by Waddiwasii | @waddi-writes (2025•E•31.8K)

Stiles can’t help but feel like he’s been lied to. Legally Blonde all but guaranteed immediate mastery over all coursework and an effortless discovery of his one true purpose. Instead, every class is a confusing nightmare, and the only revelation he’s had so far is that he might actually be too socially incompetent to make friends. Given that the sum of his accumulated attempts at having a quintessential, life-changing college experience is a resounding zero, Stiles is left with one very disappointing conclusion: Elle Woods is a fucking liar.

Ice Cream Trucks by glorious_spoon | @glorious-spoon (2025•M•1.2K)

"What's so funny?" Eddie murmurs. He's pressed so close Buck can't see his expression, but he can feel the shape of his smile against his jaw, and that's even better. "Nothing, nothing," Buck says, breathless, and kisses him again, because he gets to do that now apparently. "I just can't believe this is happening. Feels like a dream." "You have a lot of dreams about me?" Eddie asks, in a tone that's definitely trying to be smooth but is just a little too uneven to completely pull it off.

want to feel you when I'm falling in love by smilingbuckley | @smilingbuckley (2025•GA•1.0K)

Buck keeps getting cold at night and struggles falling asleep. Eddie cuddles him about it. -- There’s grumbling next to him before the duvet shifts. “Come here.” “What?” Buck’s voice is too loud for two in the morning. “Come here,” Eddie repeats. Buck’s been awake long enough for his eyes to have adjusted to the dark. Eddie’s hair is ruffled, standing up at the top. His hand is motioning Buck to come closer. “Why?” Buck asks instead of doing what Eddie asks him to, still confused. Eddie sighs, “Body heat.” Buck blinks. Okay, normally he’s a smart guy, okay? But it is 2 in the morning and Buck is freezing his ass off and they had a long shift the day before. When Buck doesn’t move, Eddie sighs again and pulls him closer. And… oh.

pushing the limits by Tizniz | @tizniz (2025•GA•5.3K)

The point though is that Buck doesn’t push his magic. He doesn’t know his limits. And that proves to be a problem.

slide into home base by sibylsleaves | @jeeyunspetrat (2025•E•5.1K)

Eddie's the star pitcher of the 118's intramural softball team. Buck is the assistant coach who has a few pointers for him.

Exhibit B by Daisies_and_Briars | @cal-daisies-and-briars (2025•T•10.8K)

Seven years in the future, an adult Christopher has a chance to see his grandparents - and subsequently, his father - in a new light, on a family trip to El Paso.

god loves you, but not enough to save you by justhockey | @everything-i-am (2025•E•30.3K)

He’s big, is the first thing Eddie notices about him. Not just his body - though his shoulders are broad and his biceps are thick - but his presence, too. He’s so commanding that he’s impossible to miss; he draws all of Eddie’s attention even as he sits silent and motionless, like he’s trying to disappear. He has a halo of curls on his head and a shock of pink above his left eye. Angel, Eddie thinks, and something twists uncomfortably inside his chest. Or: Eddie is a priest, and Buck is a firefighter, and once their worlds collide nothing will ever be the same again.

room for two by 42hrb | @exhuastedpigeon (2025•E•3.3K)

“Dude, you’re not sleeping on the couch, you pay half the rent,” Eddie pushes Buck into the bedroom when he walks out of the bathroom on the third night of Buck’s 4 off. He’s almost dreading Eddie coming back to work next shift, then he’ll have no reprieve. “I promise I don’t bite — not unless you ask nicely.” Oh Buck is so fucked, but there’s really no way out of it. At least not while Eddie is awake. Buck decides he’s going to lay in bed and wait until Eddie falls asleep and then he’ll sneak out and onto the couch. “Yeah, fine,” he huffs and lets himself be bullied into the bedroom.

The Eddie Diaz Lore Drop by onedropstories (2025•GA•6.0K)

Chimney sighed. “Well, man, like I said earlier, of course you can bring him.” Hen watched her best friend deflate into the couch cushions, eyes drifting to the ceiling. “Man, I was not expecting this Eddie Diaz lore drop today.” He turned back to Eddie. “Got any more secret family announcements in your pocket?” “...can I bring my kids?” “Your WHAT-”

just one single glimpse of relief (with you i serve with you i fall) by instantcaramel | @toxicpositivitybuddie (2025•GA•2.2K)

“Someone has to tell Eddie. I have to call him. I have to - have to tell him and Chris. I have to call them.” He knows he sounds frantic, almost panicked, but he can’t calm himself down. “I have to tell them. I have to - “ He sobs into his own hands, and he just wants to collapse to the ground again. or; There's only one person Buck wants to talk to tonight. (Coda to 8x15 Lab Rats)

won't say it (don't make me say it) by Tizniz | @tizniz (2025•NR•1.3K)

There’s absolute silence for a few seconds, and then there’s this broken and wounded sound. Eddie bolts up in bed, heart racing in his chest, “Buck?” “H-he’s…he’s…” Buck chokes out another sob. He sounds like…well, like he’s dying. OR: Eddie finds out.

all the quiet nights by becausebuckley | @becausebuckley (2025•T•3.8K)

“You don’t have to do that,” Buck says, averting his eyes as Eddie’s fingers begin working at his belt. “It’s just my wrist.” “Just- just let me take care of you,” Eddie says. It’s a question, but it comes out somewhere between a statement and a plea. “Please.” or: eddie takes care of buck.

who the hell likes living just to die? by BekkaChaos | @bekkachaos (2025•T•1.7K)

Set after the events of 8x15, Eddie gets a phone call.

i can take the pillowcases off the yellow pillows by atlasblue85 | @atlasblue85 (2025•GA•1.6K)

It almost sounds like someone is crying. He heads toward the source of the sound – Christopher’s room, except he knows Christopher is outside goofing off with his cousins. “Eddie?” he calls again, gently nudging the door open. He’s greeted by an unfamiliar sight: his son, sitting on the floor of his old bedroom, sobbing.

the autumn chill that wakes me up, you loved the amber skies so much by deanvrse (2025•GA•3.7K)

“I heard Maddie won’t be walking you down the aisle.” At those words, Buck’s face shifts. The flicker of a smile fades, replaced by something smaller—something quieter. He glances down, avoiding Bobby’s eyes in the mirror. “Yeah,” he says softly. “She’s officiating, so… I guess I’ll just walk myself down the aisle.” He shrugs, trying to play it off like it doesn’t matter, but Bobby sees the way his jaw clenches, the way his shoulders tense again like they’ve been carrying that thought all morning. Bobby’s hands still on the tie. He doesn’t speak right away. “Or—” he says eventually, voice gentle, “I could do it.”

Or it’s Buck and Eddie’s wedding day and Bobby is their gentle pillar

i fear the worst (how could you leave us all behind?) by buckleysbest | @langdonsmel (2025•GA•673w)

Eddie gets the call at 9:32 on a Friday morning.

It was night (when you died) by ranbling | @ranbling (2025•T•1.3K)

Eddie gets the first text a little after 10 pm, it's Karen telling him everyone is okay. Buck calls him after midnight. "Buck? You there?" he breaks the silence and it feels wrong. It feels like the calm before the storm, the calm before something goes wrong on a call. It feels like the calm before he got shot by a sniper in the sunlight, before Buck got struck by lightning. "I-it's, it's Bobby" Buck chokes out.

killing time at the cemetery by playinginthunderstorms | @playinginthunderstorms (2025•T•1.8K)

You’re gonna be okay, Buck, he’d said. They’re gonna need you, he’d said. Captain’s orders. Buck will not fail him. Not ever again.

and longingly i long by effervescentwolf | @effervescentwolf (2025•M•13.9K)

He’s still greedy, even now. Still can’t figure out how to loosen his grip on it just a little, knuckles white with how hard he’s holding on, but he’s trying so hard to give Eddie space and time because he asked for it, because when they got together, Eddie couldn’t seem to stop looking at him when he asked Buck to be patient with him, couldn’t hide the nerves from his voice, the vulnerability of his open chest, the honesty in his fingers against Buck’s wrist where he’d held on so gently as if he was afraid to come any closer. So Buck is trying, to just sink into having it rather than wanting more, to let it be enough rather than him being too much, and he’s been doing good, mostly. He’s been doing good. - Or asking for what you want is asking too much of Buck, except it isn’t really. Not when it’s Eddie.

#Sterek #Buddie #evan buckey x eddie diaz #derek hale x stiles stilinski #2025 Fic Rec List #Buddie Fic Rec #Sterek Fic Rec

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gallifreyan85 · 3 months ago

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Before the day is done

pairing: Agatha x reader

summary: cast out of the only life you've ever known, you find yourself in the imposing presence of agatha harkness herself, set to get revenge on the witches you're with. she deals with them accordingly, but what to do with you?

A/n: had this in my WIPs for a while now, thought I'd try and make something out of it. This is sort of a part zero?? for this fic, but can be read as a standalone. enjoy!!

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆

Your head ached. You had only yourself to blame for the situation you found yourself in, seeing as everyone else had already given up on you. Your village, your family, your acquaintances... everyone. And so, alone, naive, defenseless, you managed to stumble into the path of none other than one of the most feared witches in existence.

Agatha Harkness.

The Agatha Harkness.

You realized it soon enough, but it was already too late. It seemed the witches that had so kindly taken you in, showed you sympathy by letting you stay for a night, had also angered her. And she came to get her revenge. It was only a matter of time before she captured you too, bound you with magic and who knows what, and you couldn't- you didn't see a way out of this. You were already cold, exhausted, trembling before her in fear while she sighed. Tilted her head. To one side, then the other, like a predator looking at some helpless animal they had caught, debating the best way to--

„My, my." she murmured to herself, voice low yet intrigued. „It seems I've got myself a little extra this time. What do you think, darling? Should I go ahead and—" she waved a hand, making you flinch.

You followed her calm gaze to the bodies of the witches she'd fought. Well. It wasn't exactly much of a fight. One second they were all turning on her, blasting her with magic, and the next---

Purple.

Blinding.

All-consuming.

And she just laughed, held out her hands as if saying come and get me, go on, as if teasingly luring them to their demise. And that was indeed what happened.

They dropped like ragdolls after that, one by one, drained, powerless.

Dead.

Everyone but you. You had hid, of course, too afraid and surprised and taken off guard by being woken from the first sleep in two days by all the magical crossfire and spells in the air.

When you raised your head a little more the air felt heavy with power, the aftermath of wilting magic, cast and now split into nothing. You allowed yourself a shaky inhale. Agatha, still in front of you, just smirked.

She moved her hand about, enjoying the way you almost winced every time it shifted in your direction.

"Go on, dear." she said coolly, "Give me a good reason to keep you alive. Or else... well..." she smiled, giving the clearing you were in another glance. No words left your mouth. You wanted to speak, to plead, anything, really you did, but you were just... frozen.

You blinked.

She blinked.

Her hand paused in the air, movements ceasing momentarily.

You felt the back of your throat tighten, the threat of tears in your eyes as heavy as the weight holding your bound hands, magic pressing against you from all sides. You were trapped. Alone. There was no changing her mind, and you had no real, good enough reason for her to spare you. A tear slipped down your cheek. Then another. And another. She sighed.

"Oh, Hecate." you heard her scoffing. "Are you seriously crying?"

A sob escaped you, shaky and uncertain. Almost apologetic. She sighed again, looking annoyed, not that you saw it through your endless steam of tears.

"If you're going to sob at my feet at least try to have some-- hey!" you flinched when she lowered herself down to look at you, blinking at her tearfully.

"Are you listening to me?" she asked.

You nodded quickly.

"Do actually know anything useful? Like, at all?"

A shake of your head. And another sigh from her, frustrated this time.

"Hell's sake." she murmured. "You really are useless. Fine."

She stepped back, and you almost stepped forward.

You weren't even sure why.

You should have kept a distance, a safe distance, but nothing you did felt safe anymore, not for a long time until she--

The movement was a mistake. Because she paused. Stood up. Looked down at you. She was frowning now. It only made you cry harder.

"What was that?" she asked.

You gulped.

Words seemed to find you, your voice, returning.

"I- I'm sorry—" but she cut you off at once, looking affronted,

"No-- no. Don't you dare lie to me or so help me I'll look into your head for myself."

That made you freeze. You knew a little about her. Famous, ancient, scary witch. But could she really do that? You supposed she could. So instead of letting her make up her mind you simply blurted,

"I-- I don't-- know."

An eyebrow raised. She looked unimpressed.

"You don't know?"

You shook your head pathetically.

"You don't know why I caught and bound you here and instead of pleading for your little life you actually move closer towards me?"

"I-it's just-- I've been..."

"Yes?"

"I just- I've been... alone... for so long... and I didn't r-really feel safe, at all, but then when you..."

Oh, now she was listening. With a sort of bewildered expression on her very-much-not-349-years-old-looking face. And you just went on. You already lost your dignity. Might as well tell her everything now. What was the last time you were so honest with someone? You found it sad that you couldn't even remember.

"I just... thought... you... you took them down so quickly, like... like you weren't even trying, and I thought, whoever is on your side must feel really, really safe." you said.

It was an odd thing to say. But it was the truth. However terrifying she did seem, there was something about her that seemed to lure you in. Made you want to find out more.

She gave you a look.

Frowning. Processing. As if your words had made zero sense.

"This is so depressing." she muttered, stepping away, disappointed almost. "Honestly, I was about to threaten you and everything and you're already so close to falling apart I didn't even get to making you beg."

"I-- I can still—"

"Oh, can you?" she retorted sarcastically, tilting her head in an exaggerated move. You winced.

"Are you really so pathetic that—" she turned abruptly, then stopped, as if really, really begrudgingly deciding something.

You stayed quiet.

And then, just barely, slowly, so faintly, you felt her magic around your hands loosen a little. You sniffled. Looked up. She was still standing there, stock still, lost in thought. You hesitantly got up. Stumbled. Caught yourself.

She turned so abruptly again that you startled. Her eyes went over you. It seemed she wasn't expecting you to stand up.

A moment of silence. Then-

"Alright, I see this has been a complete waste of my time," she sighed, annoyed, "and you did show some self restraint not attacking me like they did... of course I suppose that was just..." her words trailed off. "But I'm feeling generous today, and this pity party going on in your head really is very pathetic, so... you're free to go."

You said nothing. What was wrong with you? Why did a part of you want to come with her? You let yourself see it for a moment, not alone anymore, but by her side, gaining insight into magical knowledge and-- maybe even learning how to control it. How to do what she can do.

And you scrambled after her.

"W-wait--- wait- please..."

"Oh, now she pleads." Agatha sighed, turning around. "I think I told you to leave. Not many people get the chance to walk away from me unscathed, dearie, so consider yourself lucky and be on your merry way."

"But I want to come with you." you blurted.

She turned. Fully. Facing you again, looking utterly confused. Like no one had said those words to her before.

"With me." she echoed. "You're so desperate, aren't you? Willing to tag along with any powerful witch you meet? Darling that'll only get you more problems. You want to be safe? Learn to protect yourself. And don't get in my way again."

"But I don't know how." you said, a little more sure of yourself but still desperate. You took another tentative step closer.

"Does that sound like my problem?" she said flatly.

You looked up at her, pleading.

"Don't give me those eyes, kid, that won't work."

You blinked. Came just a little closer.

"I'll do anything you want—" you offered hopefully.

"Anything, you say?" a sly smirk on her face, prefect teeth smiling, "Anything at all?"

A nod.

"You don't know what you're getting yourself into darling. I'm not much of a caring teacher."

"I don't care. Just please. Let me come with you, I can- help. I can be useful, please—"

"Alright, alright, enough of that. I don't want to listen to more of this pathetic nonsense." She scrutinized you once more, as if assessing whether or not you'd be good on your word.

"And you'll do anything I say."

You nodded. "I promise."

She smiled. Not a cruel smile, but something mocking, teasing you almost, as if saying you'll regret that later, darling. You blinked, eyes still teary, and before you could say another word she nodded. The faintest, barest, hint of a nod.

"Fine."

You swore you wanted to jump up and down. But you stayed put. Didn't move. Scared you misheard her. When you turned around again she was already walking, going down the grassy path, leaving you in the mess of her destruction.

"Come on then, hun." she called, pausing for the merest second, "magic won't wait for you, and neither will I. Let that be your first lesson."

You watched her for a moment, imposing, confident, formidable. Perhaps things would be different now. You'd make them different. You'd make sure of it. You hurried after her, trailing by her side, absentmindedly rubbing over your sore wrists and standing just a little taller. Like an apprentice. Like a witch.

A/n: title is from Seven Devils by Florence + The Machine. Feel free to comment if there's something more you'd like to see from Agatha in the future. Also, I'm thinking of making a tag list (tagging people when posting a new agatha fic) so if anyone is interested in that comment here or send me a message on private. Love y'all!! <3

#agatha all along #agatha harkness #marvel #reader insert #mine #agatha harkness x reader #marvel cinematic universe #agnes of westview #teen reader #mentor agatha harkness #mentor and student

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manufactured-pleasantry · 4 months ago

Text

Those of you reading my fic 'Hundred Day Curse' on AO3 may enjoy this snippet. It's a scene with Alfred and Bruce, set in the future of the fic that may or may not make it into future chapters. IDK yet. I like it, but it might not fit with how I eventually write the rest of the fic. Even so, it's a spoiler for them meeting again, so click read more at your own risk! (It's 1700~ words btw)

Bruce stared at Alfred as discretely as he could. He wasn’t entirely sure Alfred hadn’t noticed - he was Alfred, after all - but the man continued on as if he hadn’t so Bruce kept watching. Alfred was brewing tea in the suit he’d always worn; dark suit, white shirt, dark tie, and white gloves. His butler suit.

'Love me.'

Bruce hadn’t signed any employment documents recently so he was confident that he hadn’t rehired Alfred as the Wayne butler. Even if his parents hired Alfred for a lifetime, Bruce was rather certain that became null after Alfred had formally retired. Lifetime employments don’t tend to resume after retirement. Alfred couldn’t just rehire himself, could he? Why would he do that? Maybe Alfred was under the impression that the only capacity he could be in Wayne Manor was if he were a butler.

'Love me. Love me.'

That was silly. The kids invited Alfred over (because they couldn’t trust Bruce to take care of himself and Alfred was being shackled with him again after he finally escaped—) and Wayne manor was as much the kids’ as it was his. (Even though they didn’t really want it.) Surely Alfred knew that the kids saw him as something like a grandfather—he didn’t need to be a butler to stay here.

'Love me. Love me. Love me.'

Alfred placed a cup of tea in front of Bruce. It was doctored exactly how Bruce like it - the current Bruce, not the old man that actually enjoyed bitter things, because somehow they were still sweeter than his decrepit soul. With milk and an overabundance of sugar. An insult to proper tea but the only way Bruce was able to stomach it back when he was a child.

“Thank you, Alfred,” Bruce murmured. Because he wasn’t in a speaking mood but manners were a must.

“Your thanks is appreciated but unnecessary, Master Bruce,” Alfred responded.

Master Bruce. He drank some more tea. For surely the milky beverage would drown this ugly emotion in his chest. It was better than Mister Wayne, he told himself.

'Love me. Love me. Love me. Love me.'

Alfred had not made himself his own cup of tea. He busied himself with making lunch instead. Cute little tea sandwiches, including the cucumber sandwiches that he knew Dick hated but Bruce secretly liked. Usually Alfred would have the sandwiches prepared before he served tea but Bruce wasn’t going to complain. He liked watching Alfred cook. Alfred’s movements were always so fluid, so sure, never pausing as he moved from one step to another.

'Love me. Love me. Love me. Love me. Love me.'

Bruce would enjoy this more if he hadn’t been basically ordered to remain by Alfred’s side while his kids busied themselves with work. Ordered, like a misbehaving child in desperate need of supervision. Bruce hadn’t been misbehaving. He’d been good. He broke zero rules and took care to ensure he didn’t break the not-really rules either. Bruce didn’t need Alfred to be his nanny again.

'Love me. Love me. Love me. Love me. Love me. Love me.'

“Sandwich, Master Bruce?” Alfred offered.

Bruce nodded and Alfred plated five different tea sandwiches on his plate. He didn’t thank him again because apparently his thanks was unwanted. The sandwich was good and exactly how he remembered them tasting.

“Alfred?” he inquired, after he finished his lunch. “Why are you here?”

“Why am I here in the kitchen or why am I here in the manor?”

“The latter.”

“The children informed me of what happened and I thought it best if I were here to help,” Alfred answered.

'Love me. Love me. Love me. Love me. Love me. Love me. Love me.'

“You’re retired,” Bruce stated.

“Yes, I’m aware.”

“You’re no longer a butler.”

“One does tend to disidentify with their job title once they’re retired, yes.”

“Why are you here?”

“I believe I’ve already answered that, Master Bruce.”

'Love me. Love me. Love me. Love me. Love me. Love me. Love me. Love me.'

“You’re being obtuse,” Bruce growled before freezing. He had no right to growl at Alfred like that. No right to lose his cool. No right to be so rude.

Alfred sighed and Bruce braced himself to be dragged into Time Out. He knew Alfred didn’t do Time Out but prepared himself anyway.

“I was informed that my ward had reverted to that of a child’s physique. It is only natural that I have returned.”

Ward? “I have not been your ward for decades.”

“You’ve been in my charge since you were born, Master Bruce.”

'LOVE ME!'

“Uncle Philip is my legal guardian.”

Alfred’s fluid movements stuttered for a moment before resuming. “I seem to recall that he entrusted you back into my care after a scant two years.”

“You were my employee.”

“... Indeed.” Alfred opened a drawer and retrieved the silverware. He began to polish them.

“Alfred, why are you here?”

“What answer are you seeking, Master Bruce?”

He fell silent and watched Alfred polish the silver. Alfred would never give him the answer he desired.

'Why won’t you love me?'

“I want the truth.”

“I’ve told you the truth.”

“Then why are you dressed like a butler?”

“I’m comfortable dressed like this.”

“So you’ve not rehired yourself?”

Alfred’s mouth twitched. “No, I have not. I’m still retired, Master Bruce.”

“Then why are you here?”

Alfred sighed. “I’m starting to suspect that you do not want me here.”

'Will you ever love me?'

“I just want to know why. You left.”

“So did you. For four years, with only a brief visit in between.”

Bruce clenched his fists. “No, you went home.”

“I retired, Master Bruce. I did not go home.”

“Why are you here?”

'How do I earn your love?'

Alfred put the silverware down and made eye contact with Bruce. “My retirement was dreadful. I had not desired it, certainly not in the way I spent it. I had rather been here instead of retiring.”

“Then why retire?”

“Because, Master Bruce, I’ve noticed over the years that whenever I went on vacation, you were more careful on patrol. You got hurt less. You ate consistently. You slept more. I figured I was enabling you by virtue of being here and assisting you in everything you desired. I lacked the willpower to simply refuse you and so I remove the temptation and I retired. I wanted to return many times but feared that I would go back to enabling you. However, considering you’ve managed to embroil yourself in greater troubles than previously thought possible, I figured my retirement made no difference and saw no need to torment myself any further.”

“... You retired for me?”

Alfred huffed. “I retired out of misplaced judgement. I was simply being a fool, deluding myself. Trust me, I shan't be doing that again any time soon.”

Tell me.

“Am I correct in assuming you wish to come out of retirement?”

“No, Master Bruce.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Tell me what you do understand and I shall endeavour to explain what you don’t.”

“You retired for my own good but you’re back because it wasn’t working and you didn’t like retirement but you’re still retired.”

“I didn’t like retirement because it kept me away from Gotham. I’m perfectly content with being retired in Gotham.”

“But you’re performing butler duties.”

“I’m not.”

“You made me tea and sandwiches.”

“Yes.”

“I do not understand.”

Alfred sighed again and placed the silverware and cloth down. “Forgive me.”

Bruce frowned.

“You’re right. I’m being obtuse. Perhaps I’ve been obtuse all along. I thought you understood our silence, Master Bruce. I thought I understood your silence. Now I realise I’ve been wrong all along. I’m sorry.”

“... I don’t understand.”

“In truth, I haven’t been here in the manor in a butler’s capacity ever since your parents passed that fateful night. Though I performed my duties, that was more from habit and personal enjoyment than anything. I suppose I was also afraid of change when so much already had. I had convinced myself that you needed the familiarity, when the reality was that I that relied on it.”

When Bruce didn’t respond, Alfred continued.

“It was foolish of me and that has cost you and I too much. You especially. Decades of silence, unspoken thoughts left to fester uncontrollably, it has done us no good. Well, my retirement has given me much to think about and this conversation has given the final push I needed. You asked me why I have prepared you tea and sandwiches; I did so because I wanted to, because it is how I show my care, because you are my child and you hadn’t eaten yet.”

To hear it spoken so plainly made it seem so simple. It hurt that his insecurities could have been so easily settled if only he had the courage to ask. If only Alfred had the wherewithal to breach the topic. If only.

“Ask me again why I’m here.”

“Why are you here?” Bruce asked, chin wobbling with suppressed emotion.

“I am here because I am your guardian, your friend, whatever it is that I mean to you. I am here because I want to be.”

“... Because you care for me…”

“Because I love you,” Alfred corrected.

'You love me.'

“You love me,” Bruce repeated, voice thin with tears.

“I do. I always have.” Alfred dabbed away at Bruce’s face with a handkerchief.

“I have more memories of you than I do of my father, even when he was alive.”

“The late Dr Wayne was a busy man,” Alfred admitted. It was the closest Alfred would ever get to criticising his former employer.

“Mama said my first words were an attempt to say your name.”

“A fact I treasure to this day.”

“You’re the one to turn towards when I need help.”

“I’m grateful that you let me.”

“I want you to call me Bruce. Not Master Bruce.”

“Bruce.”

The call was unfamiliar in Alfred’s clipped tones but oh so beautiful. It was what he’d wanted for over thirty years. This simple address. Bruce devolved into a mess of tears and clutched onto Alfred’s lapels. Alfred responded by pulling Bruce to his chest and embracing him tightly.

“I think of you as a father,” Bruce confessed through his sobbing.

“I think of you as a son.”

“I love you.”

“And I love you.”

It was all so simple, really.

#the hundred day curse AU #my fic #SolaceInSpace #i think the ending is weak but i think that about all my endings

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