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alexiroflife · 6 months ago

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how jjk men would react if they found out you sh…

Warning(s): cw//self harm, graphic depictions, mentions of depression, anxiety, sensitive content, angst/comfort

-> if you or anyone you know is struggling with self-harm, suicidal thoughts, depression, etc., know that you aren’t alone. as someone who used to struggle with these things myself, i understand how difficult it can be, but know that you are strong and you are loved. and thank you for the ask, this is a very important topic and i appreciate the vulnerability of the request. sending all the possible love in the world to all of you.

gojo, geto, nanami, toji, choso, sukuna

satoru gojo: satoru has an incredible sense of sight, thanks to his gift of the six eyes, as well as very keen observation skills. he picks up on little habits you harbor very quickly during the beginning of your relationship. you always choose to wear long-sleeved clothing, even when it’s warm, and you tug at your sleeves as though you are desperately trying to conceal a certain part of yourself from the outside world, from him. he doesn’t understand why at first. the thought crosses his mind that you just aren’t comfortable in sleeveless clothing, but you’ve shown him pictures of yourself from a decade ago when you’d wear variations of different tank tops, short sleeves, and more. he doesn’t understand what changed somewhere along the line. perhaps your sense of style has shifted? maybe you don't like your arms? (he can't understand how because he finds them to be the most gorgeous arms he's ever seen).

but no, something is nagging at him in the back of his head, churning the contents of his gut as though there is something he needs to know, to see that you were hiding, and when the moment unveiled itself, he instantly saw.

you’re in your kitchen while satoru watches you from the other side of the island, leaning over and gazing at your movements with a soft smile. his blue eyes scattered across your body, admiring you while simultaneously searching for any clue, any answer to his hovering questions.

“where’d i put the containers,” you murmur to yourself in the midst of making lunch for the week, moving about your space rather slowly.

satoru offers his own help, pointing a slender finger over to the space above your head. “did you check that cabinet?” he asks.

you turn over your shoulder and quirk your brow. “oh, do you live here now? suddenly know where everything is?” you ask playfully, a small smile rising to your lips as satoru chuckles.

“not yet,” he winks. “but i sure am working on it, though. you know i have to make myself familiar with the space in case we share it someday.”

“is that so?”

“or, of that doesn't work out you could always live with me. i’d love to have you.”

“we’ve been together for three weeks, satoru.”

“yeah, but what does that matter when it comes to loveeee,” he pouts and you giggle, shaking your head as you turn back to reach for the cabinet. you stand on your tiptoes and reach out, sleeve of your sweet draping down to your elbow.

satoru is quick to his feet to help you, though you’re more than capable, when he catches the sight of what looks like a scar streaking over the inside of your wrist. his face falls and his brows angle, marching over to you quickly with a look of urgency on his face.

you don’t register how fast he is moving until you feel him behind you. you turn and look up, caught off guard by the way his eyes had hardened and his pupils shrank. your hand stalls on the cabinet handle, the scars on your arm completely slipping your mind momentarily.

“satoru? you okay?”

he doesn’t answer, grasping your wrist in his hand gently and pulling it down from above you. your eyes flicker up to the movement, and when you realize what is happening, your heart sinks. your eyes go wide and you try to tug your arm away, but satoru’s grip tightens slightly, extending your arm by your wrist to display the inside of your forearm before him.

he thinks his vision is blurring over, his heart ringing in his ears, his breaths quickening as his eyes detail over the row of rigid scars lining from your inner elbow up to your wrist. his world collapses around him, lips stretching into a disbelieving grimace as his wild eyes survey the damage. some of those scars look newer than others, scabbing over with specs of purple, while the others are far older.

you panic, trying to tug away again, but satoru’s grip on you is too secure. a lump forms in your throat as you search for things to say, anything to say that could take your boyfriend’s attention away, that could excuse the sight before him as something else. “s-satoru, wait-” you stammer, your voice weaker than you had intended it to be.

satoru looks like he can’t hear you, nose flaring as he stares, and stares, and stares, and suddenly, your vulnerability is bare naked before him, on display for him to judge, to belittle, to curl his brows at and determine as pathetic and weak. you can feel yourself about to cry already, shaken by this sudden attention.

“satoru,” you whisper, arm trembling within his grasp.

“what is this?” he breathes out so quietly, his voice betraying himself and hardly reaching over a brush through the wind. when you do not answer, those pained eyes are on you, tormented by the sight he has just witnessed. “(y/n), what is this?”

you feel small, avoiding his eyes and looking all over the floor. “i- it’s nothing,” you murmur.

“nothing?” he repeats, as though he has been burned by your response. the white haired man quickly seeks out your other wrist, reaching down to your other side as you try to turn away, but he, of course, manages to seize it and extend it like your other arm and roll up that sleeve. the same row of scars litter your beautiful skin.

satoru’s a mess, frightened, confused, devastated. this is what you had been hiding from him all this time? “this isn’t fucking nothing, (y/n), they’re all over you! what did you do?”

you still can’t respond, you can’t muster up an excuse, you can’t do anything. satoru’s concern is far too overbearing, his gaze too intense, and his hold on you too secure. it feels like he has you laid out on a slab before him, stripped of your clothes as he examines your body with contempt.

he’s disgusted. he’s ashamed, you think.

amid his grief, he catches the terrified look in your eye, your lips tugged downward as if to prevent yourself from crying. you look so scared.

how could he have not seen this sooner, that you’re hurting? that you’re hurting yourself?

“baby, what did you do?” he repeats, softer this time as he leans down to look at you, your body trembling in his hold. his thumbs graze your inflamed skin, hesitant to touch you for fear that you may break.

“please don’t,” you breathe out in a huff, voice wobbling as you scrunch your eyes closed. “please, don’t look. just forget you saw it, please.”

“forget i-?” satoru has to stop himself from lashing out poorly, from allowing his emotions to overcome him in what he understands is clearly your moment of need. “how could you ask me to do something like that? (y/n), your arms, baby!”

“satoru, please-” you shake your head. you want to shrink away, to hide, to vanish into thin air. “i don’t wanna talk about it. please.”

“(y/n),” he exhales, closing his eyes to gather himself. “(y/n),” he repeats softly, hands releasing your wrists slowly and sliding up your arms to delicately hold your shoulders. “we can’t not talk about this. you have to tell me what’s been going on. you have to, baby, you have to understand how scared I am right now. help me understand. let me help you, let me take on whatever burden you’re carrying, please, I’ll do anything as long as it means you’re not hurting yourself.”

his hands move to your neck, cupping over the skin as he ducks his head down to look at you more clearly.

“i can’t stand the thought that you’ve been- and i haven’t-” satoru was stumbling now, throat straining as the urge to cry rose. “why didn’t you come to me? i’m right here for you, (y/n), i always have been. why didn’t you tell me?”

“...it’s embarrassing,” you manage to say, your voice fragile, on the verge of breaking. you can feel your boyfriend’s eyes peering into you even with your own eyes closed. “didn’t want you to see… I didn’t wanna be a burden.”

satoru’s heart is breaking for you, hurt that you could even think of yourself as a burden to him. “have i- have i done or said anything to you to make you feel that way?” he asks genuinely, and you cringe, turning your head to the side to open your eyes.

“no, of course not.”

“then why would you think that, baby?”

you shrug helplessly, tears welling into your eyes. satoru sees you, all of you, his heart thrumming to capture the pain you feel and to lift it from your chest, to help you breathe even just a little bit. he releases a weighted sigh, one of sadness, of love, of heartache for you, and he’s pulling you into him as your arms dangle limply at your sides.

you scrunch your eyes and immediately break down into him, sobbing into his shirt as his warm hands wash over your frame and cradle your head to him, the muscles in his face tight with anguish. he holds onto you like he’s horrified that you will fade away within his arms.

“i’m just so tired, toru,” you cry into his chest, dampening the fabric of his shirt. “i’m sorry.”

satoru doesn’t respond, afraid that if he speaks, he’ll end up crying too. you’re his girl, his beautiful, loving girl, and the fact that you have done such harm to yourself is incomprehensible to him. if you love him so, how can you hate yourself enough to have done this?

“how long?” is all he can ask you, breath heaving into your hair and ear. you hesitate, for he already seems so wounded by his discovery. “tell me.”

“...two years…”

he’s crushed. how did he not see sooner? how could he have been so blind after having bragged about being able to see everything so clearly? how could he have left you like this?

he holds you tighter, digging his head into the crook of your neck and hunching over, your eyes now seeing over the curve of his broad shoulder.

“i’m sorry, baby,” he apologizes to you in turn, fingers curling into your hair as he holds your scalp. “i'm sorry I wasn’t paying attention.”

you’re confused as to why he’s apologizing to you since the entire thing is your fault. satoru has a tendency to take on your emotions, piling them onto his own weight of carrying the title of the strongest. you never understood why he did so naturally and willingly, and why even now as you stood limply in his arms, he’s crying for the things you did to yourself.

he pulls away with shiny red eyes, gazing down into your shiny red eyes and tear stained cheeks. you’re so beautiful, he thinks. he hates that such beauty has been suffering in so much silence.

“(y/n), I love you more than anything in this goddamn world. please don’t- don’t keep doing this to yourself. if you’re hurting, come to me. hurt me if you have to lash out, but don’t hurt yourself beautiful.”

“i would never even think of hurting you, satoru.”

“then don’t think of doing it to yourself,” he says firmly, and you press your lips together.

“…i-i don’t know how to… to stop,” you mumble, and he’s taking your hands in his and kissing them gently.

“i’ll help you. we can get you help, baby, I promise. just promise me, please,” he begs you, holding your hands close to his heart. “you come to me when you feel like doing that, okay? you come to me. and I’ll do whatever I can. let me help you. let me be there for you. i won’t let you push me out, (y/n).”

you're crying again, tears streaking over your face as satoru’s love captures you within his words, within his warmth as he forces you to understand that you are not alone, and never will be.

satoru kisses your hands again. his lips reach your cheek, and his hand comes to tuck your head into his shoulder again, holding you and telling you that you have him to go to when your world grows dark.

geto suguru: if suguru could sum you up into one word, he would say that you're his universe.

everything in his life he does for the sake of you and his girls, for the sake of keeping you safe and making you happy. your happiness and your comfortability are the only things that suguru prioritizes above all else, making them his very goal to serve each and every day.

suguru's not the most stable, you know that and he knows that himself. he has his off days, where he falls quiet and the world around him numbs itself and the noise becomes a muffle in his ears until you step into view, giving him a smile and wrapping his big frame up in your small arms, your voice whispering to him and breaking through the fog. you're his sanctuary. you're his safe place, and he loves you so much. he owes his entire life to you, therefore ensuring that you feel just as loved as you make him feel is very important to him.

so when he catches sight of the scars on your stomach one day by accident, when you lift up mimiko to sit on your shoulder as nanako jumps up for you to pick her up to, and her shoe kicks up your shirt from your waist momentarily, suguru freezes.

are you hurt? did someone do this to you? did you do this to yourself?

countless thoughts are racing through suguru's mind as he stares at you in a daze, watching you laugh so joyfully along with the girls as though no trouble plagues you.

but there is. you've just been hiding it. hiding it far too well.

his mind is elsewhere for the rest of the day, unsure of if he had been imagining things or not. he knows you so well, or at least he thinks he does. how have you been hiding those marks littering your lower abdomen? how had he missed them?

he thinks back to the moments you two were intimate and recalls that you never wanted to remove the tanktop you wore or let him kiss further than your ribs. he recalls the days you all went to the beach and you kept a white shirt over your swimsuit or elected to wear a onepiece. he recalls how quickly you change when he's with you, your back turned to him as you rush to throw something on over your upper body.

the signs... they're all there. you've been hiding yourself from him, but why? what have you been doing? have you truly been harming yourself, or is that thought a trick of suguru's worst fears?

he tries to keep himself calm around you and the girls for the remainder of the day until they are put to sleep and the two of you are alone again.

you sit on the edge of your shared bed, rubbing lotion over your arms with your back facing suguru again. he watches you carefully, back resting against the headboards and hazel eyes trained on your figure as though you aren't real.

he waits for the proper moment, waiting for you to crawl up and curl under his side, his arm subconsciously wrapping over your waist as your head lays on his chest. he stares at the ceiling for a moment, thinking as weighty silence overcomes you, then he's cautiously speaking.

"(y/n)?"

the soft call of your name brings your head up to peer at him curiously, blinking innocently. he turns down to look at your face and his heart clenches. while he knows that he knows what he saw, he doesn't want to believe it. he doesn't want to think that you, such a selfless and caring person for him, would hurt yourself.

you hum up at him, wondering what he has called you for. you see the pensive look in his face, the subtle knit in his brow as he stares at you, gears in his head turning. "yeah sugu?" you say gently.

he doesn't want to ask, but he has to. he doesn't want the confirmation, but he needs to know.

"i want to ask you a question..." he says, and you grow slightly befuddled.

"...okay?" you start. "is it serious?"

"yeah, it is," he admits, and you suddenly grow nervous, immediately catching an idea of what this could be about. you don't like the look on his face, the way he appears so serious.

"...alright," you mumble, suddenly meek.

the black haired man stares for a few more moments, just looking at you, taking in your the features he feel so deeply in love with, the features that bring him comfort and peace. "i saw something earlier, when you were holding mimiko," he begins softly, thumb caressing your back to ease you into the conversation.

you feel your heart jolt anxiously, trying to keep a straight face so as to not give your nerves away, but knowing suguru, he could likely already tell that you're getting antsy.

you lift your head to look at him, hand resting over his chest, and his eyes follow you smoothly. his eyes are focused, lips in a firm line.

"your shirt lifted, and i saw your stomach. i saw some marks. a lot of them, actually," he says, and you still completely, like a deer caught in headlights. his hand presses gently into your back, trying to keep you present with him as his concerns grow worse when he sees you stiffen against him. he frowns, denial still taking hold of him. "(y/n), please tell me those aren't what i think they are," he sighs heavily.

you feel caught.

you knew that suguru would find out at some point or another, but that didn't make this moment any less horrifying for you. it's so quiet in your room, so isolating, no background noise of the girls giggling or the distant buzz of the tv to help weaken the intensity of this point in time. you feel like a spotlight is shining overhead, an audience awaiting eagerly for you to reveal your secrets to the crowd.

suguru sits up slightly, his calmness gradually shifting into terrified incredulity. your eyes are on his face but your gaze is elsewhere, far off. you look uncomfortable, stuck, and no explanation hits suguru's ears.

"(y/n)," he says your name again, looking desperately down at you. "tell me i'm wrong."

you wish you could, you really do, but you can't lie to suguru. he knows you too well, he loves you too much, and to lie to him would be like denying his understanding of who you are.

you feel your skin flush with shame and anxiety, heartbeat likely loud enough for your boyfriend to hear.

you worry. you worry about your boyfriend's judgment, for his reaction. is he going to be angry with you?

"hey," he snaps you out of your daze with the drag of your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes as he stares at you helplessly. you look at him and frown, ashamed that you are the reason he looks so pained. "what's going on?"

the question comes out so delicately, it makes your heart break. a whisp of understanding blends into his tone with empathy, yet a crushing sense of sadness and guilt that overpowers the aforementioned emotions. you struggle to look him in his kind eyes, dreading his consolation that you feel you don't deserve.

"talk to me, (y/n)."

you chew angrily on the inside of your lip, looking down at your finger as you pick at his shirt. he watches your brows furl, an array of different feelings capturing your features. "i was gonna tell you about it..." you murmur, and suguru is floored.

"what?" he breathes out as though he has no more air. you wince, lowering your head. "you-" he pauses, mind jumping from one place to another. "you did that to yourself?"

"i'm sorry, i-" you can feel your throat growing tight. "i've been trying to-"

"to stop?" he tries to finish for you, grasping for any kind of explanation. he's devastated, not only because you've been harming yourself, but because you've been so busy looking after him and the girls that he hasn't noticed. you're the one who always comforts him, but while you've been doing that, you've been aching on the inside and trying to hide it.

you nod meekly when he concludes for you. "i just- i thought the feelings would go away, so i didn't say anything, but they're just getting worse and i don't know what to do anymore and i only feel better after i..."

"(y/n)," he stops you gently, his heart shattering upon listening to you ramble, spilling out the things you have been holding onto for what he assumes to have been so long. "you've been dealing with this all this time?"

"...it's on and off," you confess. "some days are better than others, but..."

suguru finds your words familiar, for he often finds himself in the exact same mindset; feeling functional and confident some days, and others, not so much, but you're the reason why he's able to handle his bad days, yet he hasn't been the same for you for as long as the two of you have been together.

he feels almost sick. he loves you to death. you're his everything, but you've been in pain, and he hasn't seen it.

the way he's looking at you now makes you feel guilty, remorseful, embarrassed. you know you should have told him, but you could never find the strength to. you had always been too scared. and the longer you self-harm, the less you are willing to admit to yourself and to your boyfriend that you have a problem.

you're shocked, though, when suguru's hands tighten over you and his face grows bitter, not with you but with himself. "how could i have been so stupid?" he grumbles, distraught. "and so selfish? all this time, you-"

"no, suguru, please, it's not your fault," you try to tell him.

"i should have seen, baby, i should have noticed something sooner. and all this time, instead you've been looking after me when i should have been looking after you."

"don't say that, suguru," you shift, looking sadly into his eyes. "it's my fault. i'm the one who did this, i'm the one who's to blame. i'm the stupid and selfish one, not you."

suguru's frown deepens, sad eyes looking over your face. you blame and belittle yourself just as easily as suguru does, and he can't stand it. he can't stand to see you like this, to be so aware of hurt before him. he wants, no, he needs to take all that pain away from you. he needs to exorcize it, rid your body of it, cast it away so that you can be happy from now until the rest of time. he needs you to be okay.

"i swear on my life, (y/n)," he begins firmly, eyes boring straight into yours, holding your cheek. "i will do everything in my power to get you through this. whatever it takes, no matter how long it takes, i will be here for you. you're not alone, you understand? you don't need to pretend for me. the girls love you- god i love you so fucking much, and i can't stomach to think of the times you've suffered in silence for my sake. i'm no good if you're no good, baby. i need to know these things, i need to be able to help you."

your nose twitches and your jaw clenches as you look into him, breathing growing unstable. suguru has always been so generous and so loving. he has a way with his words and how safe they make you feel even during your worst moments.

"but what if i can't do it, sugu?" you whisper, his thumb catching the tear that leaks from the corner of your eye. "what if i'm not strong enough to get better?"

"you are strong enough," he affirms confidently. "more than strong enough. and when you feel weak, lean on me. but you have to promise me something."

you nod slowly, mutely, keeping his gaze as he stares at you lovingly, wistfully.

"promise me you won't do it," his words come out as a quick, hasty breath. his brows curl further upward, his desperation plain on his pretty face. "promise me you'll let me know as soon as you want to, but don't hurt yourself again, (y/n). don't do it. i'm begging you. you don't deserve that pain."

though you are unsure if you can even make that promise to yourself, you force yourself to try. for suguru's sake. "okay," you mumble, and he sighs, kissing you softly and pulling you to his chest to whisper sweet nothings as his hands soothe over your stomach and your back.

nanami kento: you twist your fingers around each other as you sit in the living room while kento cooks in the kitchen. you're nervous, more nervous than you have been about anything in your entire life, but you know that you need to rip off this bandaid to approach your boyfriend about such a serious matter.

recently, you find yourself returning to the old habit that you believed to have been relinquished. you thought that you had gotten better, that the urge to self harm had completely gone away after having spent so much time in therapy trying to heal, but recently, you've been feeling down again, useless, angry with yourself. you didn't want to tell nanami at first because you didn't think that your current mood would go beyond feeling depressed, but now that you've started scratching away at your thighs and your arms again, you know that you need to let him know what's going on. you know that you can't go on like this anymore.

but you have no idea what to say.

nanami has been nothing but doting toward you, bringing you flowers every morning, making your meals, ensuring that you remember to schedule doctor's appointments or to keep yourself warm when it's cold out- the man's life revolves around your comfortability, and while you know he would be far more offended if you keep this to yourself, you're horrified to see his reaction when you tell him that you relapsed.

nanami is well aware of your past difficulties with your mental health, and he always tells you that if you are ever in a dark space again, he needs to know. even so, he hasn't been with you when you're like this. the two of you got together after the multiple therapy visits that helped you to shift mindsets, so now that you feel this way again, and while in a relationship with nanami no less, you feel petrified.

you don't even notice when he rounds the kitchen counter to make his way over to the dining table, setting down two plates of food. he looks over and catches the way you stare ahead blankly, lost in thought. you've been doing a lot of that lately and he wonders if something is wrong.

nevertheless, he knows that if something is bothering you, you'll tell him. "sweetheart, dinner's ready," he calls out, and you snap your head over to him, his voice bringing you out of your daze.

you stand wordlessly, movements somewhat robotic, as you slowly make your way over to the table. "thanks, ken," you say softly, lacking your usual energy, and at this point, your partner knows for certain that something is off.

he watches you carefully as you sit down, pushing in your seat for you and pecking your forehead before sitting down next to you. "tell me how your day was," he starts, brushing off his hands and reaching one out to rest one on your knee as he always did at the table. he's prying, you can tell, trying to learn if something that happened throughout the day affected your mood.

your heart is hammering loudly, your eyes stuck to the plate and unable to look up at him. "it was okay," you respond.

"just okay?" he questions and you nod slowly. "did something happen?"

you flicker your eyes up to his brown ones suddenly, caught off guard by the question. he sees the questioning in your eyes and replies accordingly.

"you seem to be a little off, this evening, that's all."

you hum, unsure of how to respond to his observation. you look away again, contemplating. just say it, you think. just tell him, just get it over with.

as you struggle against yourself, nanami only grows more concerned. you don't confirm or deny his comment, and the way you turn away has him wondering if he's done something to hurt you.

"did i do something wrong, darling?" he asks.

you furrow your brows and quickly shut down the idea. "no, no. not at all, ken. it's nothing you did."

"then... there is something troubling you?"

you stall a bit more now that you're on the spot, cursing the fact that kento is always so quick to pick up on the smallest changes in your demeanor.

"(y/n)?" he calls you when you don't answer.

"i have to tell you something," you say abruptly. you see nanami's brows raise ever so slightly, soft brown eyes looking over your face in an attempt to read the situation before you tell him anything. "it's... a lot. so i need you to just... bear with me. and please don't be mad."

nanami's brow twitches slightly as he looks at you, head tilting. he grabs the bottom of his chair and shuffles it closer to you, leaning over slightly and running his hand over where it resides on your knee.

"i could never be mad at you," he tells you earnestly, as though it's the most honest thing he's said in the world. "what's the matter, my love?"

god, he's so sweet to you it makes you physically ill that you have to break this news to him.

"...do you remember when we talked about... um..." your voice fades off, nanami's concentrated gaze only making you more nervous for what his reaction will be.

"take your time," he encourages you, and you only feel worse.

you return to chewing on the inside of your lip anxiously, picking at your shirt under the table. the blonde man beside you is ever so patient, allowing you to gather your thoughts before you verbalize them.

"...um...it's.... about what we talked about a while ago..."

"...and that would be regarding?"

"my... past."

nanami furrows his brows, still not quite understanding. "i apologize, honey, what about your past?"

just rip the bandaid. just rip the bandaid.

"my past with self-harming," you rush out, and the weighty silence that follows is enough to make you want to sink into the floor and let it swallow you whole.

you can feel his eyes burning into you, processing what you just told him, and all you can hear is the pound of your heart in your ears as his hand stills upon your knee.

nanami, on the other hand, is completely shocked by your revelation. while he understands that your relapsing has always been a very realistic possibility, he never wanted to entertain the idea that it could very much so happen- at least, not while he's around.

a sense of fear grips him. are you going to tell him that you relapsed? have you already hurt yourself? has he failed to be there when it happened??

"did you-" he doesn't know what he wants to ask, or how. he hates that he is already jumping to conclusions, but the way you are structuring this conversation with him only leads him to believe the worst. "what happened?"

your head hangs low and your fingers taut on your shirt, lips tightening as they press together. you can hear the disbelief in his voice already, and it breaks you.

"i relapsed."

the brown-eyed man clenches his jaw, falling completely silent once more to not react in a way that may worsen your state. you feel his hand tighten into a fist over top of your leg as he lowers his head, rubbing his eyes with his fingers and inhaling sharply. you feel like a child who is awaiting punishment as you look at his hunched state, a million questions of what he will do next running through your mind.

you hate to do this to him. nanami already has so much on his plate, you know this is the last thing he needs to be stressing over. you wish you could be okay for him. it's not his fault that your mind takes you to these places, and you don't want him to bear responsibility as though it is his doing. even so, you already know that he will because that's the type of man kento is. that's the type of boyfriend kento is.

you wait a few more moments in unbearable muteness. after what feels like forever, kento lifts his head again and rests his chin on his fist, elbow propped on his knee. he's looking to the side, deep in anguished thought. he no longer looks surprised, but rather guilty and frustrated. "when?" is the first thing he asks.

"yesterday," you answer dejectedly, and he almost jerks, his body twitching in reaction. "...are you mad?"

nanami looks at you and his hardened expression immediately softens into something melancholy. "no- no, of course not, (y/n), no," he shakes his head as if the notion is unfathomable, releasing his fist to cup your knee again more securely. "i will never be angry with you for what you're going through. never. no, i'm not mad."

you nod quickly, a meek sense of relief and sorrow taking over you, a weight heaving from your chest upon letting it out. "okay," you whimper.

"come here, my darling," he coaxes you softly, opening and grabbing your hand from under the table delicately to lead you to stand over him. his hand guides over the small of you're back once you're up, leading you to sit on his lap with your back pressed against the table and your legs dangling over one side of his chair.

he holds your forearms gently, looking up at you with sad, understanding eyes. "are you comfortable showing me?" he murmurs so intimately, easing you into his warm consolation.

you don't nod or answer him verbally. instead, you wordlessly roll up the sleeve of your sweater to reveal angry red scratch lines running up your inner forearm. nanami's lips curl in pain as though he can feel the sting of your scars, holding your arm gently for him to look over it.

the sight kills him, though he tries to keep his cool. this isn't about him, it's about you, but goodness, the image of the scars on your beautiful skin makes him hurt like no other pain he's experienced.

"is this all of it?" he asks you, and you shake your head.

"there's some on my thighs," you mutter, looking down.

he nods. "alright," he sighs. "alright."

"...i know you have so much on your plate already... i just-"

"don't. don't even," he stops you, eyes still roaming over your irritated skin. nanami usually commends himself for remaining collected in times of crisis, but he's desperately fighting a part of him that wants to yell out and cry for the sake of you.

he imagines you struggling with this on your own, long before he came into your life, and the thought makes him cringe to picture just how far this must have gotten. these scratches he is surveying now already look bad enough. were the other ones worse?

"(y/n), you know this isn't okay," he looks up at your face and sees how you are avoiding his eyes. you look so small compared to how you usually carry yourself, and it kills him. "to harm yourself like this... you can't treat yourself this way, darling, you know you can't."

"i know," you mumble. "i just had a moment, and now i'm scared that- that i'll go back to how things were."

"as long as i'm with you, you won't. i promise you that," nanami swears. "it was just this one time since you last?"

you nod. "yeah..."

"okay," he nods once more, convincing himself that this is something he can help stop before it gets any more out of hand. "why'd you do it this time, my love? what were you thinking that led you here? is there something i can do differently? is it work? is it a combination of things?"

"i wish it were that easy to explain, kento," you frown, glancing up at him helplessly. "but it's just... it's just a feeling i can't put into words. i can't pinpoint the source. i just... one minute i felt like i couldn't breathe, and the next i was..."

"okay," he repeats, letting you know that you no longer need to say anything more. you don't have to revisit it. he understands. he will take care of it. he'll help you. "okay, darling. how about this. i call off of work tomorrow and we can sit and talk about seeing a new therapist. then we can go out and do whatever you want. just for fun. does that sound okay with you?"

your nose flares and your lips tug to the side as you nod, truly not comprehending how you managed to find a man so patient with you. "yeah, that's good," you say softly, and nanami is at least relieved that you are willing to take further steps into a better direction.

"good," he whispers, rolling the sleeve of your sweater back down so that you no longer feel exposed or feel like you have to think any more about the things you did to yourself when you felt alone. "it's alright, my love. we'll get through it. you'll get past this just like you did last time," he encourages you, moving to caress your shoulder lovingly as you hold his gaze. "it's okay," he tells you again, and you nod weakly, leaning over to plop your head against his shoulder.

nanami holds you to him and exhales, food completely forgotten. his only priority now is to be there for you in the ways he could not before the two of you met.

"thank you for telling me."

choso kamo: choso worships the ground you walk on because he can not fathom a world without, nor the fact that you happened to stumble into his life on a whim. to imagine you hurt is the very worst thing that the man can think of, and the notion that you would hurt yourself is beyond his comprehension.

you aren't actively trying to hide any of your scars when he finds them. the scars are old, faded reminders of the pain that you used to endure and how you attempted to cope with it. while you are now six months free of self harming, the scars remain very present.

choso happens to catch sight of your scars when you are getting changed. he's sitting at the edge of your bed, face flushed, as he watches you blissfully change out of your pajamas and into clothes that you feel are best suited for a walk to the ice cream shop that choso has proposed. it's a bright sunday afternoon, and the brunette is eager to take advantage of the weather with the woman he holds close to his heart as well as his baby brother, who the two of you intend to meet at the store.

you're now dressed in nothing but a large white shirt and underwear, your legs bare as you strut around the space freely. choso's jade eyes follow you as you walk, completely obsessed with the way you move. he could watch you do the most mundane things for hours, which he truthfully tends to do anyway.

your back is to him before you round the bed, disappearing into the bathroom momentarily before coming back into the living room. choso's eyes still don't leave you, tracing over your face down your figure and finally to the front of your bare legs.

he falters, and his brows draw together when he catches dark marks littering over your inner thighs, only revealing themselves with the movement of your limbs as you walk.

the pale-skinned man grows confused and slightly concerned. he's never seen those marks on you before, and simultaneously, never on anyone else he knows either. he finds them to be a strange form of battle scars, especially due to the placement, the small size, and the sheer number of them. some of them take different shapes too, blurring together or over each other, while some stand out alone. they almost look like burns, but it's hard for choso to really tell.

you proceed about your business, searching through your drawer to pull out a skirt, when choso speaks up.

"love? what are those?" he asks curiously, perplexed.

you turn over your shoulder, shutting your drawer closed with your foot. "hm? what's what, cho?" you ask him, unsure of what he's referring.

choso, still slightly flustered by the vision of your half exposed body, nods his head into the direction of your lower legs. "those," he says again, and you look down, still lost.

you lift your foot momentarily, checking to see if something is stuck under or on top of it. you then survey the rest of your body, searching for something out of the ordinary. "uhhh," you trail off. "i'm not sure what you mean, baby. you're talking about my legs?"

you are far too desensitized to and familiar with the image of your scars to process that choso has never seen them before. the brunette, however, is unsatisfied, wanting an answer that you have yet to provide.

he leans forward, lifting his hand and pointing his finger directly to a patch of dark spots peeking out from your inner thighs. you follow his gaze, eyes landing on the culprits, and your shoulders drop in realization. "oh," you say shortly, choso retracting his hand.

he looks at you innocently, awaiting a response while you try to figure out how to explain this sight to him.

you don't want to worry him, but knowing choso, if you lead with the fact that these scars are there because you inflicted them onto yourself, he would have a heart attack, failing to find reason to your words.

even so, you know choso only wants to understand you as much as you desire to understand him. he wants to see the ugly parts as well as the beautiful parts of you that he is so drawn to, and if you hide it from him, that would only create a rift in your budding relationship that you aren't entirely too keen on creating.

you want him to know you, all of you, and these scars are as much of a part of you as the bones in your body and the blood pumping through your skin.

they're a sign of what you've been through, what you've overcome, and who you are now. they're important, and choso should know why they are there.

"that's a good question," you sigh, putting your skirt on the bed as you move to sit next to him at the edge of it. choso immediately turns to you, glancing over the marks shamelessly now that he has a better view of them.

"did someone do that to you?" is the first thought that crosses his mind, red drifting into his vision at the mere idea that someone has hurt you in such an intimate way.

"...no," you shake your head, lifting one leg up onto the bed, brushing his own, as the other dangles. "i put them there. a while ago," you explain honestly.

choso scrunches his brows tighter, eyes flickering up to your face then back down to try to identify what exactly the marks are. "what are they?" he repeats.

you exhale, puckering your lips as you prepare yourself for this difficult conversation. "they're burns, cho. from a match," you tell him.

now, the half-curse is incredibly confused. burn marks? on your lovely skin? in a place where only you could reach? put there by yourself?

you burned yourself?

"i don't understand," he frowns, shifting to face you better. "why would you..."

"i used to be in a really bad place, baby," you purse your lips, watching as his face contorts with consternation as he comes to understand that you purposefully harmed yourself.

"what do you mean? bad enough to do this to yourself?" he sounds mortified, his voice growing ragged the moment his tone picks up volume.

his pupils, moments ago blown pools of affection, are now shrunken dots of shock.

"don't look at me like that," you beg him, placing your hand over his own. his eyes snap to the sudden contact, then back to you with concern. "sometimes, when certain people are suffering from depression, or anxiety, or just overall bad thoughts and they feel like they have to... break out, or maybe punish themselves in a sense... they resort to hurting themselves."

choso gulps, lump forming in his throat as he listens to you with shaking eyes. "and that's what you did? you felt like you needed to punish yourself?"

"it's hard to explain to someone on the outside. i know it sounds... crazy, but it was the only way i knew how to cope with everything that i was dealing with."

"why didn't you come to me instead?" he immediately asks and you give him a sad, knowing look.

"because, we didn't know each other then, cho?"

"i don't care," he shakes his head, eyes keeping yours. "you should have found me."

the idea brings a hint of a smile to your lips, choso's sweetness warming your heart. "i didn't know who you were, baby, that would have been like begging a stranger for help."

"so?" he scoffs. "i loved you the moment i met you. it wouldn't have made any difference to me.

you sigh again, bringing your other hand to rest over top of your boyfriend's as you smile softly at him in an attempt to get him to calm down.

the panic is still written all over his face as he takes in your smile, the vision somehow only making him sadder. you're so gorgeous, inside and out, and that smile is only scratching the surface of your unending beauty.

to know now that your radiance was once outweighed by the torment in your mind encouraging you to harm yourself... well, it makes choso want to ball his eyes out. it makes him want to confront the physical manifestation of your past traumas and pummel it into the ground, bashing its head in for all the hurt that it has caused you.

"i ended up just fine, cho," you reassure him.

"why didn't you say anything before? were you trying to keep it from me?"

"no, baby, i just didn't think to tell you. i kinda forgot about them," you say, and that comment alone makes choso soften his features slightly.

"you forgot..." he recites your words. "does that mean you're better now?"

you hum in affirmation, smiling warmly. "it's been a while since i've hurt myself or done anything like that. i got through it. i'm okay now, these scars are just a permanent reminder of the past."

his frame sags slightly with relief, brows lifting as he looks over you with a blank expression. "i think i understand," he mumbles, looking back down at the marks. "i'm sorry you ever had to go through any of that."

"it's not your fault. you weren't there."

"i wish i had been. so i could have helped more. i know you said you're better, but maybe if i had been there i could've stopped you from hurting yourself at all."

"i wouldn't put that responsibility onto yourself, cho. it was my responsibility."

"still," his brows arch slightly. "i would have stuck with you every second of every day to make sure that you never had a second alone to do any of it. i wouldn't have let you, and i won't let you now." a thought seems to pop into his head when he finishes his last sentence. "you wouldn't go back to trying to hurt yourself, (y/n), would you?

you exhale. "i mean, i'd like to think i wouldn't, but sometimes these things aren't linear," you admit. "i just know that for now, i'm okay."

"the second you're not, though, you'd tell me?"

"yes. i would."

"you promise?"

"i promise, baby."

"okay," he sighs. "because i don't think i'd be able to function knowing you're upset."

the brown haired man leans over, carefully holding your thigh as he looks over your marks again, no longer flustered by your bare skin but entirely focused on the severity of your burns. you look down at him, hands slipping from his own as he surveys you closely like he's a doctor.

"they don't hurt anymore, do they?"

"nope. just scarred."

choso looks at you for a bit longer in silence before looking back up at you from his hunched state. "can i kiss them?"

you laugh softly, hand falling into his hair at you gaze at him with your heart aglow. "you want to kiss them?"

he nods. "so they can feel loved."

you coo, thumb smoothing over his temple as his eyes swell with adoration right before you. "of course you can."

toji fushiguro: toji is absolutely no stranger to scars. he's a human man with no cursed energy, having had his fair share of close calls on risky jobs that have left him with slashes over his calves, small pierces in his flesh, and cracked callouses. then, of course, there's the scar on his mouth bestowed upon him by his oh-so-loving family, which will be stuck with for the rest of his life.

scars follow toji like moths follow a flame, and he's numb to it. he believes that they are a part of life, both physically and mentally, especially with the kind of life that he leads. whether the wound is a large one or a small one he can barely see, he accepts scars as a part of who he is-

who he is.

while toji likes to parade around with a hardened exterior decorated with faded, scabbing wounds, that is something he deems fit for him and him only. he doesn't care what other people do with their lives as long as they leave him the hell out of it, but for the love of all the money that he has acquired over the years slaughtering sorcerers, he will be damned if he finds a single, tiny little scratch on your body.

scars are for toji, not for you, his darling little girlfriend and the day he finds out someone has hurt you enough to leave behind a mark is the day he's putting several bullets into the culprit's head.

toji's worst fear, though he hardly discusses it, is losing you and watching you get hurt. god, he practically lives to protect you, and to feel as though he has failed to do so would wound him detrimentally. he's a tough guy, but you make him so soft, and admittedly he wouldn't want to be soft for anyone but you. you're his rock, his little hot head, and he loves you more than life itself.

if you're hurt, he will lose it.

therefore, when he finds out that you're self-harming? oh, he's on the verge of losing his fucking mind.

he does a double-take when you step out of his room and into the kitchen with a towel wrapped around your body, his eyes widening and his brows arching immediately.

now, toji knows your body inside and out. he's explored every inch, he knows every crook, every crevice, every mark, every texture, and he has never once in the six months you have been together seen the red lines over your inner wrist.

he watches you with twisted lips as you grab an orange from the counter before walking back into his direction. you're almost back into the room when toji calls you.

"uh uh," he stops you, and you pause, turning over your shoulder and purposefully moving your left wrist to press into your towel.

"what?"

"come here," he orders and you give him a strange look.

"why?"

"i wanna see somethin'. come here."

you're quick to snap back easily with your own sarcastic retort, clearly in a foul mood over something. "if you want to fuck, can you wait until i'm fully dried off and after i finish this?' you hold up the orange in your other hand, a perturbed look on your face.

"i don't want to fuck, (y/n), i want you to come here."

toji's voice comes out sternly, and on the verge of anger. you survey his posture, his arms leaning over his legs as he cranes to look at you with a suspicious, firm expression. you can tell that he's serious, and a sudden sense of fear overtakes you that you mask with annoyance.

you don't say a word when you slowly walk up to him, crossing your arms over your chest to conceal your wrist, the hand holding the orange tucked under your elbow.

"what is it?"

toji holds out his palm. "give it."

"...my orange?"

"put it in my hand."

you huff, carefully maneuvering your arm around to keep your inner wrist pointed toward your body as you bring forward the orange and plop it aggressively into his hand. toji watches your other arm the entire time, taking clear note of how you refuse to let your wrist show, and you know you're fucked.

the green-eyed man tosses the orange to the side of the couch and holds out his large palm again, eying you intensely. you look down at him with a frustrated frown, shrugging. "i don't have anymore oranges."

"don't be cute, doll."

"what? do you want my hand?"

"you know i want your hand."

you roll your eyes, raising the hand you had held your orange with when he stops you. "not that one. the other one."

your heart pangs, shaking your entire body as he looks to you expectantly. how the fuck had he managed to notice the scar on your wrist so quickly?

the moment you hesitate, he knows that what he saw earlier is something to be concerned about. you normally never hide yourself from toji, and the way you go about hiding your arm now is defensive enough to raise several brows. he knows you're not dumb, too. he knows that you know exactly what he wants to see.

"(y/n)." he cocks a brow, the severity of his demeanor only making you more uneasy.

he can't see. he can't see what you've just done. he'll hate you. he'll look at you like you're crazy.

"what if i don't want to give you my hand?"

"then i'll just grab it for you, and i don't think either of us wants to go there."

you release a trembling, aggravated breath. you can't get away with anything when toji's around, and while you ponder having chosen to get an orange later, you know deep down somewhere you wanted toji to see. you wanted him to help you, which is why you walked out of that bathroom half an hour after having put those scars on your arm.

"hand, now."

you turn your eyes away with a grunt, slapping your wrist into his hand facing downward. toji is quick to whip it upside once he has a grip on you, and his eyes seem to freeze over the sight of three fresh slices on your upper forearm up close.

his jaw clenches, then unclenches, then clenches and unclenches again as his lips twitch and his eyes adjust to the vision. you're hurt. not only are you hurt, but it looks as though you've recently been hurt. you've hurt yourself.

toji has a hard time figuring out what to do. he's not good with things like this, but he knows that seeing you with scars on your arm is quite literally about to set him off. he always imagined having to defend you from others who seek to hurt you, but never having to defend you from yourself.

he can't fathom it. he's struggling, the muscles in his eyes are twitching, and he can't handle it. he can feel his heart begin to race, unsure if he is angry or scared or mortified or devastated.

there are three lines in your arm. bright red. staring right back up at him.

and you put them there?

no way, you put them there.

but you did. clearly you did, or else you wouldn't be looking so guilty right now.

but when did you? how did you? why did you?

he doesn't know what to think. he doesn't know what to say. he swore he'd always protect you, but how does he even begin to try to protect you from yourself?

"are you out of your mind?"

the question leaves him rather calmly, a low inquiry that you are unsure is meant to be directed as an insult or a genuine ask.

you can't look at him. you don't even know what to think yourself. it had all happened so fast while you were in the bathroom, before you got into the shower.

one minute, you were staring angrily in the mirror, cursing your reflection as your wicked thoughts sprouted grubby arms and guided you toward the pair of brow scissors that you kept in your makeup cabinet on the left side of toji's bathroom.

you wanted to feel in control of the disdain you felt lurking within your soul. you wanted to feel something for fear that you would never be able to feel again, and before you knew it, you were dragging the exposed blade over your skin.

"d'you wanna explain why i'm looking at these cuts on your arm, (y/n)?"

and you know, you know that it's a bad sign when toji uses your name instead of the plethora of pet names he normally elects to call you: doll, princess, mama, girl, pretty baby- anything but your actual government name, and when you hear it roll from his tongue under these circumstances, you can only imagine what's going through his head.

you shift on your bare feet, looking down at your toes. "dunno," is all you say, and toji scoffs in disbelief.

"you don't know?" he emphasizes. "that's all you have to say?"

"if you wanna embarrass me, go ahead, toji. seriously, i'm tired."

"what the fuck makes you think i wanna embarrass you? i wanna know why the fuck my girlfriend walked out of the bathroom with cuts on her arm!"

you rip your arm away immediately when he yells, storming back off into his room and slamming the door behind you.

toji jumps up, suddenly frazzled. he doesn't want you alone in there. he doesn't want you out of his sight.

the navy haired man moves quickly to his door and grabs the handle, only to find it locked. he jiggles it harshly and bangs on the door. beginning to panic. "open the door, (y/n)," he shouts, meeting no reply.

little does he know, your back is pressed against the other side as tears crash over your cheeks. you don't know how you expected toji to react, but the look on his face just now and his tone of voice was enough to send you running off.

you feel ashamed, weak. you shouldn't have gone out there at all. you should have waited until you were dressed, discarding the whole idea of letting toji see what you did so that you could suffer in silence without his help, because what help could he truly provide anyway?

toji's a tough man, but he's soft for you. he would stand in front of a moving train for you. he would sacrifice his life for you, so when you don't answer, he imagines the worst.

"open the door," he says again, weaker, tugging desperately at the handle though he knows it won't budge. he knows he could break the door down, and he's prepared to until he hears you sniff amdist his pounding. he immediately stops, face dropping.

fuck.

this is bad.

he knew it was before, but for some reason, it's only now registering how bad this is.

you're in pain. you hurt yourself because you're in pain and you need him, but he doesn't know how to help you. he's never dealt with anything like this before.

his hand slides from the door and to his side, forehead knocking against the door though his other hand remains tight on the handle. he just needs to see you.

"princess," he mutters defeatedly. "don't make me kick this door in."

silence.

"please," he softens even more. "please, (y/n), let me in."

the house falls quiet once more and you give in. you feel so lost, and the only person who can at least comfort you, in his own way, is toji.

you slowly turn to unlock the door and step back as toji opens it swiftly, staring down at you with wide eyes and at least relieved to see that you haven’t done any further harm to your body.

he does, however, see your tears.

his face tightens as he bends down to scoop you up in an instant, your legs and arms tightening around him as you snivel into his shoulder, his large palms sliding over your body. he feels your small body tremble against him as he walks the two of you over to the edge of his bed, sitting down as you cling to him like a koala.

"i dunno what happened," you whimper into him. "i dunno why i did it. i dunno. i dunno."

you say it over and over, your voice as broken as toji feels listening to you.

he wishes he knew what to do. he wishes he was better equipped to handle this, but never in his worst nightmares did he dream that he would find you here, his fiery girl, the love of his life.

he's been so busy trying to protect you from the outside world that he hasn't even thought about the things that could harm you from within.

he stays silent as you babble to him through tears, holding you just like he knew how. he doesn't want to picture those scars on you. he doesn't want to picture what led you to put them there. he just wants to hold you, to at least let you know that he's here and he's not going anywhere. he may not know how to help, but he knows how to love you and he hopes that's enough.

"i'm not letting you out of my sight, y'hear?" he says gruffly into your ear and you nod meekly. "i'm not letting this happen ever again. not as long as i'm alive."

he mentally swears to rid your house and his of any and every sharp object he can find and to throw it all in a safe as you sink into him.

toji knows how to protect and toji knows how to fight. though he's more acclimated with fighting others, if he has to fight to protect yourself from your innermost demons, then hell, he will find a way to do just that.

sukuna ryomen: lord help you and lord help anyone within a fifty-mile radius when the king of curses discovers that you've been harming yourself.

sukuna is not at all very good with his words or his expressions of affirmations. he is a being of action, and he believes that he has proven his love for you enough by simply allowing you to be in his presence longer than anyone else ever has or ever will.

at first, when he sees a scar or two on your leg, he thinks its just an accident or a result of you being clumsy. then, three more pop up, then five, then far more than he's even willing to count, and he decides that this scar pattern is somehow intentional.

he knows no one else has marked them onto you because he is prepared to kill anyone who comes too close, especially if they have ill intentions. if you were in danger at someone else's hand, he would be the first to know and the person meaning you harm would be dead before they could even think about touching you.

therefore, when he sees that the only person normally within your company is him, uraume, and yourself, the process of elimination leads him to you.

he goes about confronting you rather harshly, as well, for he knows no other way to be.

you're out in the garden of his large residence one day, soaking up the sun, when you hear familiar, loud stomps heading your way from behind.

you turn around and squint to peer up at sukuna, who is standing over you with a menacing glare in his crimson eyes. you don't necessarily find this out of the ordinary, so you greet him as usual.

"hi, kuna," you say sweetly. "you good?"

he is not good. not at all, so he gets straight to the point. "come inside, woman."

you quirk a brow. "why? i just got out here?"

"do not question me."

"can it wait, like, fifteen minutes?"

"do you wish to live in the next fifteen minutes?"

you sigh, entirely too used to sukuna's facade of cruelty around you. you know by now that the king of curses would never dare to hurt you.

"i do intend, to live, yes," you smirk.

"then you will come inside as i have demanded."

"no, sukuna. i want to stay out here for a bit. i've been inside all day."

the pink haired man fumes, teeth grinding together in agitation. he doesn't want to delay this conversation any further than it has already been delayed, but of course, you choose to be difficult.

"very well, we will do this out here," he growls and you smile.

"good."

you don't prepare yourself for when sukuna grabs the back of your chair and whips out around to face him with the unpleasant screech of the legs against the cobblestone. you wince, then retract your face when sukuna lowers his to stare at you from mere centimeters away, one of his arms grasping to push up the lose leg of your shorts up to reveal the set of scars littering your skin.

your eyes go wide, his movements too quick for you to process all at once.

"are these your doing?" he hisses and you gulp.

"s-sukuna-"

"i did not ask for you to say my name. i asked if these scars are your doing."

his eyes are piercing, striking directly into yours. "what are you talking about?" you whisper shakily.

"are we going to pretend like you're an idiot now?" he snarls. he's so mean, but he feels it's for good reason. your body has been tainted, and for some reason, you have been doing the tainting. he needs to know why.

you shake your head weakly. "no..."

"then answer me properly. i will not repeat myself a third time."

you bite down on your lower lip, heart ringing in your ears. you didn't even know sukuna paid attention to you enough to catch wind of something like this.

"yes... i did this," you finally tell him, and sukuna is livid.

"and why would you be doing something so foolish? scars are not something you are meant to give yourself, human."

"please don't be a dick, sukuna, not right now."

"i am asking a perfectly reasonable question and i expect you to answer it," he glowers. "now."

"you wouldn't understand if i told you," you frown and he clicks his tongue.

"stop assuming things of me before i lock you inside of my room where you can not escape or even fathom doing something like this to yourself again under my supervision."

you curl your brows, frowning up at your boyfriend. "if i tell you, you'll call me foolish."

"because this is foolish," he grunts. "but i will not if my doing so will get you to fucking explain yourself."

you shake your head, looking down and contemplating before deciding to just get it over with so that he can stop putting you on the spot. "sometimes i just feel shitty," is all you elect to say.

but sukuna is hardly satisfied with this response. "so you choose to inflict pain upon yourself instead of calling upon me?"

"i told you, you wouldn't understand," you say. "it's not something i can easily explain to you either."

sukuna narrows his eyes. "fine."

he lowers himself to grab you legs and throw you over his shoulder. you squeal, grabbing onto his back as he begins to walk you back into his home and toward his room. "sukuna!" you kick your legs around. "put me down!"

"no. you're coming with me, and you're going to sit and talk me through every single thought that has crossed your little mind to make you think that injuring yourself in such a way is tolerable within the walls of my residence. then after that, you'll come with me everywhere i go from this point on."

"what?!" you exclaim from where you hang upside down. "I don't wanna go everywhere you go," you wine.

"too bad. you should have thought of that before you decided to harm yourself."

sukuna is horrible with words, and far more horrible with expressing his concerns, but despite your temporary discomfort with how he goes about approaching the situation, you can still see in the pinch of his brow and the stiffness of his posture, combined with his refusal to let you go without a proper explanation, that he cares very deeply for your wellbeing.

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luvsupa · 3 months ago

Text

JUST ONE HOUR!

tags: exhusband!toji x fem!reader, businessman toji (guys pls he’s rich in this </3), petnames, smut (p in v), unprotected, mentions of reader being a mother again, etc. mdni.

w.c: 1.4k

a/n: sawryy been kinda ia bc of uni </33

you step into the crowded venue alone, the air thick with chatter and the lively notes of a string quartet filling the beautifully decorated hall. everyone around you is dressed elegantly for your ex-husband’s extravagant charity event. you hadn’t wanted to show support for him, but after much convincing from your friends and children, you reluctantly gave in, promising yourself you’d only stay for an hour.

as you navigate through the crowds of familiar faces, many of your old friends greet you, their compliments on your long, black, sparkly dress feeling insincere. awkwardly making small talk, you realize how distant you’ve become from these people since your divorce from toji.

“how are your children, mrs. fushiguro?” a married woman asks, her arm linked tightly with her husband’s—who, as you know, is traveling abroad to cheat on her.

“i’d prefer if you didn’t call me fushiguro; we’re not married anymore, remember?” you respond, lifting your empty ring finger to emphasize your point. gasps of shock ripple through the group at your “rudeness.”

“oh, darling, I completely understand your desire to drop the fushiguro name. it’s not like you have the charm or elegance to carry it anyway,” another married woman chimes in, laughter erupting around you, igniting a fiery rage in your chest.

“honestly, if toji were with someone like me, I’d take care of his every need in ways you can only dream of. I know how to keep a man satisfied, which is clearly something you’re not equipped for,” a third woman interjects, pushing your anger to its peak. the background chatter fades away as your breathing becomes heavy and your vision narrows.

“well, it’s a shame you think you’re so special because, from what I hear, your husbands are cheating on you. I guess when you can’t satisfy them, they go looking elsewhere—”

before you can finish, toji strides in from behind you. his large hand snakes around your waist, pulling you closer to his broad chest as he leans down to your ear. “easy, brat. I can’t let you go on with that mouth of yours,” he scolds, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. you can’t help but hitch your breath at the intoxicating scent of his cologne.

the expressions of the married women shift, their eyes darting to their husbands, who stammer awkwardly at their words. you suppress a giggle as chaos erupts around you, arguments bubbling up as they turn on their partners. with everyone distracted, you push toji’s hand away from your waist and turn to scoff at him. but fuck, he looks good. his black, luxurious suit hugs his frame perfectly, the white button-up shirt undone just enough to reveal a hint of his toned chest. toji smirks, the scar on the corner of his lips rising as he notices how you scan him.

you push past the crowd, making your way up the large spiral staircase while exchanging polite greetings with those you pass. you can feel his eyes boring into your back—an almost burning sensation—as you glance over your shoulder to catch him in the sea of wealthy businessmen, sipping on champagne. your heart races when you see him flaunting the matching wedding ring you once shared, its brilliance shining in the bright venue.

hastily, you rush up the steps, opening door after door in search of an unoccupied washroom. frustration mounts with each locked door, but hope reignites when you spot double doors at the end of the hall. as if your prayers have been answered, the doors swing open to reveal the most beautiful room you’ve ever seen—a private lounge. your eyes sparkle as you take in the elegant decor, complete with a private kitchen and balcony.

your heels clack against the polished marble floor as you place your clutch on the large island table, relief washing over you as you settle into the quiet space, far removed from the pretentious crowd downstairs.

“trying to slip away? don’t pretend you’re not enjoying the chase; I know you’d miss me way too much,”

a low voice booms in the serene atmosphere, startling you. you turn to see toji standing there with his hands in his pockets, slowly striding toward you until he’s right in front of you, looking down at you with a smirk.

“you look so good, doll,” he says, his voice low as he leans against the island table, biting his lower lip as he admires your figure in the elegant dress.

and you really—really tried to resist him.

but it was impossible to think straight with the way he was pounding into you, hitting every perfect angle and reaching the deepest parts of your throbbing hole. your slick walls clenched around his thick shaft, making it all the more maddening. toji had you bent over the island table, your dress bunched up around your waist, leaving your bare ass exposed in the private lounge. your eyes rolled back as his relentless thrusts sent waves of pleasure crashing through you, his grip on your hips nearly bruising. the room filled with the sinful sounds of skin slapping and the broken melodies of your moans mingling with his low groans.

“my. . . pretty. . fuckin’. . wife.” toji growled, each word punctuated by a deep, punishing thrust that slammed into your sweet spot, sending jolts of pleasure through your trembling body. his hand shot up, tangling in your hair as he yanked your head back, forcing your back to arch while he relentlessly pounded into you.

“t-toj’—” you stammered, your voice barely coherent between breathless moans, your body jerking with each rough thrust. “’s too m-much…” your words trailed off into high-pitched whines, your mind too hazy to form anything more than desperate pleas.

leaning down, his lips brushed against your ear, his hot breath igniting every nerve in your body. “you can take it, you’re a big girl,” he rasped, nibbling on your earlobe, his voice dripping with dominance. “look at you, babbling for me.”

the wet, obscene sound of your cunt squelching around him only fueled his pace, your moans intertwining with the sinful symphony as he continued driving into you without mercy, pulling more helpless words from your lips.

in a swift motion, toji hoisted your leg up, his grip firm and unrelenting, holding it in place as his hips snapped forward at a brutal, faster pace. the new angle sent shockwaves through you as his thick tip pressed deeper, practically rearranging your insides. the intense sensation made you crumble, barely able to hold yourself together as he drove you closer to the edge with every thrust.

“gonna make you a pretty mama again, mmm? all filled up.” toji rasped in your ear, his voice low and teasing as you sobbed loudly, tears spilling down your cheeks, nearly drooling at the thought of being filled to the brim. a smirk tugged at his lips when he felt you clench around him,

so fuckin’ nasty, he thought.

he snaked the hand on your neck down to your sensitive nub, pinching your clit between his fingers and sending jolts of pleasure coursing through you as your leg began to shake.

“i can feel it—hahh— you in my tummy,” you whimpered, the realization igniting a rush of pleasure and desperation within you. toji lost it at your words, his breath hitching as he looked down, watching the outline of your stomach stretch against the fabric of your dress, the bulge unmistakably visible.

the sight drove him absolutely feral, a primal hunger surging through him. “hn, f-fuck, baby,” he whimpered, the words slipping from his lips as he struck even harder, each powerful stroke pushing you closer to your limits.

“mr. fushiguro, i-it’s time for your speech.”

your heart dropped at the sound of a female voice behind the doors, a stark reminder of the world waiting just outside. but toji—oh, toji—his primal instincts kicked in, and the thought of being interrupted only fuelling his desire to finish inside you. nothing would stop him from pleasing his baby.

“t-toj’… you— ngh— you have to go…” you squeaked, desperation lacing your voice as he harshly slapped your slick, throbbing cunt, the sound echoing in the otherwise silent room. your thighs sticky as cobwebs of your arousal clung to his fingers, causing you to tremble uncontrollably.

“upp we go,” a smirk spread across toji’s face as he stepped back, maintaining his cock snug against your gummy walls. with a firm grip, he lifted both of your legs, carrying you as he approached the doors leading to the balcony where the majority of the guests awaited his speech.

fuck.

“just a little longer, baby,” he growled, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “i want them all to know you belong to me.”

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x reader #toji smut #toji fushiguro smut #toji x reader smut #fushiguro toji x reader #toji x you #toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro x you #anime smut #jjk x reader smut #smut

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greengoblinswifey · 2 months ago

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Torn— Drew Starkey x Nicholas Chavez x Actress!Reader

summary— you find yourself torn between your boyfriend drew starkey and your costar nicholas chavez. what starts as a weird dynamic with you feeling guilty turns into passion at a party, leading to a moment where all three of you come together.

warnings— explicit content. threesome, unprotected sex, anal and vaginal sex, double penetration, double creampie, oral, fingering, face fucking, polygamy, praise kink, fluff.

You had been with Drew Starkey for a while now, and your relationship had always been solid. He was steady, reliable, and made you feel secure. But everything changed when you started filming a new movie with Nicholas Chavez. From the moment you met him, there was an undeniable attraction, a magnetic pull that left you thinking about him more than you ever anticipated. It wasn’t just his good looks, there was something about his energy that pulled you in, leaving you feeling conflicted. You didn’t want to hurt Drew, but the connection with Nicholas was impossible to ignore.

As filming progressed, the chemistry between you and Nicholas became more intense. On-screen, your characters shared moments that felt a little too real, and off-screen, you found yourself getting lost in conversations with him. Drew noticed the shift. Instead of being jealous, though, he seemed curious, as if he could sense the spark between you and Nicholas, and, strangely, wasn’t bothered by it which went unnoticed by you. You were scared to bring up your feelings for Nicholas, afraid of what Drew might think, afraid of losing him. So, you stayed silent, trapped in a web of emotions.

Then, at a huge movie premiere party for the movie you filmed with Nicholas, everything came to a head. You had had a few drinks, and the atmosphere was buzzing with excitement. Drew and Nicholas both gravitated toward you throughout the night, their eyes never straying far. You felt the tension rising as they slowly closed in. Before you knew it, they had you cornered, Nicholas standing in front of you, his intense gaze holding yours, while Drew was behind you, his body pressing against yours and grinding, radiating heat.

“You okay?” Drew murmured in your ear, his voice low, but you could hear the underlying heat in it. His hands trailed over your hips, making your breath catch.

Before you could respond, Nicholas leaned in, his lips just inches from yours, his fingers lightly brushing your arm. “You’ve been thinking about me, haven’t you?”

Your pulse raced. The teasing note in his voice, combined with the way Drew’s body pressed against yours, had you feeling trapped in the best way possible.

“I- I don’t know what you mean,” you managed to whisper, though the way you trembled gave you away.

Nicholas smirked. “Don’t play dumb, you know exactly what I mean.”

Drew’s grip on your waist tightened. “You can be honest, you know,” he added, his voice almost a growl. “I’ve seen the way you look at him.”

Your mind was spinning. The music, the heat of their bodies, the weight of their attention, it was overwhelming. “I didn’t mean for this to happen,” you admitted, glancing between the two of them. “I didn’t want to hurt either of you.”

Drew chuckled softly. “Who said I’m hurt?” His lips grazed your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “Maybe I’ve been thinking about this too.”

Nicholas’ fingers lifted your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. “You’ve been stuck between us for a while, haven’t you?” he asked, his voice soft but commanding. “It’s okay, you don’t have to choose.”

Drunk on both alcohol and the intensity of the moment, you, Drew, and Nicholas ended up in your mansion together. The air was thick with unspoken desire, and everything felt like it had been leading to this moment.

Nicholas was the first to act, pulling you into a heated kiss while Drew watched, his eyes dark with hunger. “God, I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he whispered against your lips, his hands roaming over your body. Drew’s eyes flickered between you and Nicholas, revealing that the connection you felt wasn’t just your imagination, it was real for all three of you.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” you breathed, your heart pounding as their hands explored your body.

Drew pressed a kiss to your neck, his voice raspy. “You feel so good,” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. “You have no idea how much we’ve both been wanting this.”

Nicholas smirked as his hands slipped under your dress, his touch sending electricity through your veins. “I think she knows now.” As their hands roamed over your body, you knew there was no going back.

“I want you,” Nicholas whispered against your skin as Drew's lips trailed down your collarbone. “Both of us do.”

Drew’s hands tightened on your waist as he kissed a path down your shoulder. “You’re ours,” he growled, and the intensity of their words sent your body into overdrive. He shoved you on the bed, his roughness matching with the tension in the air and he did something unexpected. Drew’s hands cupped Nicholas’ cheeks and their lips met in a passionate kiss filled with need that left you throbbing. You never expected this from either of them and it had you wanting more.

“I’ve waited so long to do that,” Drew said, pulling away.

They stared longingly at each other before turning their attention back to you. “Tonight’s about all of us baby, we’re gonna make you feel so good,” Nicholas smirked.

He removed your dress and your lacy undergarments, leaving you bare as Drew kissed you all over, eventually settling on your neck and finding that sweet spot that made you squirm.

“Beautiful isn’t she?” Drew asked, catching Nicholas taking in your naked figure.

“So fucking beautiful, she’s a masterpiece,” he replied.

They removed each other’s clothes, their eyes never leaving each other and you wondered when the dam would break between them. After, their attention was back on you with Nicholas spreading your legs on the bed and Drew hovering over your face, his cock hard and leaking with pre cum.

“I’m gonna make you feel good and you’re gonna make him feel good, is that a good deal baby?” Nicholas inquired. You nodded desperately, the dynamic between you leaving you aching.

Your mouth fell open and Drew took the opportunity to slide his cock inside as Nicholas’ tongue ravaged your pussy. You could barely focus on the cock fucking your mouth as Nicholas sucked and flicked your clit with his tongue, sending shivers all throughout your body. His tongue focused on your clit as he slipped a finger in your sopping cunt, curling it and immediately finding your g spot. You moaned around Drew’s cock, swirling your tongue and taking him as deep in your throat as you could without gagging.

“Fuck,” Drew moaned, “you fucking like that pretty girl? You like having another man’s mouth on your pussy and my big cock in your mouth?”

You tried answering, forgetting he was practically in your throat and he let out a chuckle, thrusting his hips at a steady pace. “Don’t talk with food in your mouth baby.”

Your legs began to shake as you could feel your orgasm approaching. Nicholas slipped a second finger and he engulfed his mouth on your clit, you felt like you were about to explode at any moment.

“I can feel how close you are baby, cum for me, cum for us,” Nicholas demanded, a dark glint in his eye as you looked down. Hearing the demand that you were to cum for the two men that you were insanely attracted to sent you over the edge, you moaned around Drew’s cock and his cum immediately spurted down your throat as your orgasm washed over you all over Nicholas’ mouth. Their moans filled the room before yours finally subsided as Nicholas’ tongue left your pussy.

“Wanna taste our girl?” he asked Drew. He nodded and with a smirk, Nicholas pulled him in, their lips connecting in a sloppy kiss and their tongues fighting for dominance. The scene before you was so erotic, all that was in your head was to have them do that as they were deep inside your holes. You needed them both.

“That’s so fucking hot,” you panted. Your pussy wet from the ordeal, “and now I need you both inside me, we can take it slow and romantic another time, I just want you both to fill me up.”

Nicholas’ cock was rock hard hearing your plea. Though he wanted to cum in your mouth, doing it inside you for the first time seemed more fitting and Drew agreed.

“You can get her pussy tonight, it’s yours now too, isn’t that right baby?” Drew asked, looking at you, his hands slowly pumping his thick cock.

“Yes sir,” you giggled, his words making you swoon.

Drew positioned himself under you, your body weight lying on top of him as his cock was pressed against your puckered hole. Nicholas stood in front of you slapping his heavy cock on your clit making you moan his name. He spat on Drew’s cock to lubricate it so he could enter your ass easier though this was not your first rodeo with Drew. He had a few kinks, something that Nicholas would soon discover.

They both positioned themselves at your entrances, you were about to be penetrated by two greek gods—at the same time.

“You ready baby?” Drew asked.

“You sure you wanna do this?” Nicholas followed up after.

“Shut up and fuck me, both of you,” you begged and your answer was enough.

Simultaneously, their cocks slowly penetrated you, the feeling of being full getting closer and closer.

“Fuck,” you all moaned in unison, the feeling was heaven. You were heaven.

“This ass is so fucking tight,” Drew moaned, steadily rutting into you.

“So is her pussy, fucking wet too,” Nicholas said, his hands moving to fondle your breasts.

The pressure of being filled on both ends left you breathless, every inch of your body trembling from the overwhelming intensity. Nicholas was deep in your wet pussy, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he rocked against you, his movements powerful and unrelenting. Under you, Drew’s deep thrusts sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you, each one pushing you closer to the brink.

“You’re taking us so well,” Nicholas murmured, his voice thick with desire as his lips brushed against your ear.

Drew groaned from behind you, his hand trailing up your back as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your neck. “Feels too good, doesn’t it? We’re not gonna stop until you can’t take anymore.”

You could feel both of them stretching you, their rhythm perfectly in sync, making you feel impossibly full. Every time Drew pushed in deeper from behind, Nicholas would thrust forward, their bodies meeting yours in perfect harmony. Your breath hitched with every movement, a moan escaping your lips as the sensation built.

“God, I can feel you squeezing us both,” Nicholas grunted, his hand sliding up your side, gripping you harder. “You like being ours, don’t you?”

Your fingers dug into Nicholas’s back as you tried to ground yourself, overwhelmed by the feeling of being completely surrounded, their bodies pressing into yours, both of them taking you at once. The fullness was almost too much, but in the best way, sending wave after wave of pleasure through you.

Drew’s voice rumbled behind you, low and full of need. “Just let go, baby. We’ve got you.”

Immediately, you convulsed underneath them, a primal moan in response to their filthy words and having their cocks buried deep inside you, you felt like you were on top of the world, having your vision blur and stars filling your head as the feeling of ecstasy overtook you.

After everything built up to a crescendo, your body trembled from the overwhelming sensations that swept through you. Your heart was still racing, breath shallow, as you lay back on Drew, feeling utterly spent. The warmth of Drew and Nicholas surrounding you only heightened the lingering aftershocks that pulsed through your limbs.

You felt so full, emotionally, physically, and mentally—like the weight of everything that had been brewing between the three of you had finally crashed over, leaving nothing but satisfaction in its wake. Your body ached in the best way, as though you’d been completely claimed by them, both in the way they touched you and the way they looked at you.

As they both reached their peak, it felt like the tension that had once existed between Drew and Nicholas dissolved completely, replaced with a sense of unity neither of them had anticipated. There was no longer a struggle over who you belonged to, it was a quiet, unspoken understanding that you were theirs, together, and they could share you in ways that felt right for all of you.

The warmth of their release spread inside your pussy and your ass, leaving you feeling impossibly full, every inch of you claimed in the most intimate way. Drew’s hand intertwined with Nicholas’ as they both caught their breath, chests rising.

The soft, lingering kisses that Nicholas pressed against your shoulder, combined with the feel of Drew’s fingers gently stroking your side, made you melt even further into the moment. It wasn’t just the physical release, it was the unspoken bond that had formed between the three of you, deeper than anything you’d experienced before.

Drew leaned in to kiss Nicholas, the once unexpected passion now flowing naturally between them. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight, your hand instinctively running down Nicholas' back, feeling the warmth of his skin as their lips met in a deep, lingering kiss. The heat of their connection sent a shiver through you, making the afterglow even more intoxicating.

Nicholas broke the kiss, breathless, turning to meet your gaze, his eyes softening. “I never knew it could be like this,” he whispered, leaning down to press a tender kiss to your lips. Drew followed, brushing a hand along your cheek as he nodded in agreement.

“We're all together now,” Drew murmured, his voice a quiet promise, before the three of you shifted, curling up together. The warmth of their bodies pressed against yours as they cuddled you between them, the moment filled with intimacy, not just passion.

Nicholas gently rubbed your shoulder as Drew wiped a cool cloth over your skin, cleaning you up with surprising tenderness. “You’re perfect,” Nicholas whispered against your ear, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. You could feel the weight of their attention, not just on your body but on the connection you all shared.

When they finished cleaning you, they turned to each other. Drew smirked, grabbing the cloth and running it teasingly over Nicholas’ chest. “Your turn,” he grinned, the air between them still charged but with a sweetness that hadn’t been there before.

Nicholas laughed, leaning into Drew’s touch. "Alright, alright,” he playfully relented, allowing Drew to clean him up before returning the favor.

Afterward, they both wrapped their arms around you again, the three of you sinking into the bed, completely content. You felt the lingering warmth of their presence, not just in your body but in the calm, comfortable silence that followed.

“We’re not letting you go,” Drew whispered, his hand stroking your hair gently.

Nicholas pressed another soft kiss to your neck, “Not now, not ever.”

You closed your eyes, letting out a contented sigh as your mind swam in the aftermath, your body feeling weightless and warm, cocooned in their presence. Full, cherished, completely theirs—and nothing else mattered.

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scented-morker · 6 days ago

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Wearing Enhypen’s clothes

Enha x implied fem reader, established relationship, 945 words (AGAIN), fluffff, jungwons is longer than everyone else’s😬

Heeseung

He is the perpetrator.

Like as soon as you walk in the door he shoves his hoodie onto you

It’s not cute either— your arms get stuck and your hair is messed up and staticky everywhere

But as soon as it’s on he pulls the hood down and looks at you with such a lovesick look even though you look like a gremlin

Every time you stay over he makes you wear his clothes because he just thinks you look so cute

And since his shirts/hoodies are too big on you it makes it easier to sneak his hands up them to hold your bare waist which is his favorite way to cuddle 😔

Jay

At first you were just so impressed with his style that you wanted to be like him 🥺

He though it was so cute when you walked out in one of the outfits he had posted a picture in one day and been like “how do you manage to make this look good 😭”

“Well for starters, the clothes actually fit me” he laughs and ruffles your hair

He likes to get matching outfits so you don’t always have to steal much of his stuff since you probably have a match

But you always end up stealing his accessories

The amount of times he’s complimented your necklace only to realize it was his 😐

You’re lucky he loves you

Likes when you slide his rings onto your fingers while you’re playing with his hands 🥰

Jake

THE KING OF SHARING CLOTHES

He will give you anything that you want from his closet, no questions asked

He loves trying to sneakily add articles of his clothing to your outfits

Like “hey what if you added- I don’t know- a flannel around your waist? Actually look, I’ve already go one right here. Let me put it on you.”

He loves coming home and seeing you in his hoodies or flannels (especially when they’re so long it looks like you aren’t wearing pants 😭)

Refers to his new purchases as “our new jacket” or will text you and ask “do you like this?”

And when you tell him it’s a mens shirt so you wouldn’t wear it he goes “actually, it’s a jake shirt, which means it’s a yn shirt.”

Sunghoon

He’s one to act like he doesn’t like it

But one time when you told him you were cold and he said “sounds like a you problem” you threatened to go get one of the other boys’ hoodie and he got so pouty and mad 😭

Now he always brings an extra one of HIS hoodies whenever you hang out because he doesn’t want you to get it from someone else

Also the type to show up at your house, see your collection of his clothes and tease you about it but then not take them back

And if you EVER tell him you need another one bc the ones you have don’t smell like him anymore—

He’s gonna need three to four business days to recover from that

Sunoo

Another one to refer to his closet as “our closet”

He always asks you to wear his stuff

Like you text him to ask what you should wear for your date and he tells you to just wear anything over and he’d give you something of his to wear

Sharing sweaters 🥺

Like little grandpa sweaters that you thrift somewhere and you guys share them like it’s the sisterhood of the traveling pants or something and send each other little pictures of where you were wearing it

“Today I wore our sweater to the ice cream shop! The guy in front of me in line ordered mint choco and it made me think of you” 🫶

Jungwon

Listen, he’s seen the romcoms— you’ve made him watch enough of them during movie nights to know that people like wearing their boyfriends clothes

He just had no idea how to offer it

Does he just walk up to you one day and say “here, wear this”? Does he take you to the cold section of the grocery store until you shiver and then give it to you?

HE DOESNT KNOW!!!

But one day you two come home from one of your dates and decide to just chill in his bed

Which is cool, except you had dressed a little nicer for the date and your outfit wasn’t exactly made for comfort

“Hey won, do you think I could borrow something to change into? My outfit isn’t very comfy.”

He scolds you at first for not wearing something you’re comfortable in because he’s gonna think you look beautiful no matter what you wear, but eventually gives you a tshirt and pair of shorts to change into

Laughs because you look like Adam Sandler

“I thought this was going to be cute but you look really funny”

Riki

Listen, he loves napping

And napping on you is one of his favorite places

So when your stupid pretty shirt was scratching against his face, Riki was very upset

He lets out a big dramatic groan, grabbing one of his hoodies from the floor next to his bed and shoving it onto you so that he can sleep in peace

You’re still wearing it when he wakes up, and earlier he was too tired to be embarassed but now he realizes what he did and gets a little red

“Thanks for the hoodie ki,” you tease him, but still refuse to give it back when he asks

“Well if you hate it that much you can take it off.”

“Never!! This is mine now!”

Cue him chasing you around to try and get it back

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creamflix · 2 months ago

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nanami kento x female reader; 18+ content, minors and ageless blogs do not interact. established relationship, housewife reader. heavy heavy (!!) corruption kink, gaslighting, guiltripping. squirting, oral (f. receiving), dumbification, bimbofication, overstimulation. dirty-talk, degradation, humilation, praise. alluded dubcon. — masterlist here ☆ part one here

"darling, have you ever thought about taking things to the next step?"

kento’s deep voice breaks the comfortable silence of your shared bed, the late-night glow barely illuminating the room. you feel the warmth of his chest against your back, his strong arms wrapped around you as he pulls you closer, seeking the comfort that only your presence can give him after a long, exhausting day. the question, however, lingers in the air, catching you completely off-guard.

"n-next step?" your voice squeaks out, betraying you with its nervousness. your face heats up, and your heart races as your mind races, trying to make sense of what your husband means. you can’t help but wonder if there’s something more behind those words, something deeper. is he suggesting something... intimate? your body reacts, a wave of warmth spreading through you, making your skin tingle.

kento chuckles softly at your flustered response, his large hand brushing a few strands of hair away from your face. "yes," he murmurs, his voice low and careful, as though he’s testing the waters. "in the sense that… we can try something different during our time together."

his tone is gentle, but there’s a weight behind it, something unspoken that makes you tense. your mind swirls, imagining what ‘different’ might mean. "d-different?" you stammer, feeling ridiculous at how shy you sound, but the thought of what he might be implying has your nerves on edge. you chew on your lower lip, trying to figure out how to respond without sounding insecure. "is… our current way of doing things not satisfying you enough?" your voice is barely above a whisper as you turn your face to glance at him, a hint of insecurity creeping into your words.

kento groans quietly at your question, his grip tightening around you just slightly. the truth couldn’t be further from what you feared. he loves every second with you, every tender touch, every slow, loving moment. but lately, there’s been this hunger inside him, something darker and primal, that wants to see you in a different light — wants to feel you give in completely to him, your sweet and obedient self, pliant under his control.

“you’re perfect, darling,” he whispers, his hand moving to cup your face, his thumb brushing your cheek tenderly. but there’s a tension in the way he holds you, an edge to his voice that makes your heart skip a beat. "it’s not about satisfaction," he adds, his lips brushing the top of your head. "i just want to explore more with you. i think we could… enjoy ourselves in new ways."

his words are sweet, but the way he’s holding you now — his hand on your face just a little too firm, his grip on your waist a little too tight — sends a different message. his usually soft, reassuring gaze holds something darker tonight, something intense, almost predatory. it’s like he’s restraining himself, keeping that side of him locked away, waiting for you to give him permission to unleash it.

your breath catches as his hand slides down to your chin, tilting your face toward his. you can feel the heat of his body, his pulse steady yet intense. "you trust me, don’t you?" he murmurs, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. his voice, deep and low, sends shivers down your spine.

“o-of course,” you stammer, your heart hammering in your chest as you look into his eyes. but the way he’s staring at you now, there’s something… more. something possessive. you can feel it in the way his thumb presses into your skin, not enough to hurt, but enough to make your pulse quicken. you’ve never seen this side of him before — at least, not so overtly.

kento leans down, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that starts soft but quickly becomes more insistent. his tongue slides against yours, his hand cradling the back of your head as he deepens the kiss, making your body melt into his. you can feel the intensity of his need in the way he’s kissing you, his desire to take control bubbling just beneath the surface.

"i want to take care of you in every way," he murmurs against your lips, his voice rougher now, more demanding. "but sometimes… i just want to take you, darling. make you mine in a way that’s… rougher." his words send a thrill through your body, and despite your nerves, you can’t help the way your thighs squeeze together at the thought.

his lips brush over your cheek, down to your neck, and you shudder as his breath warms your skin. “you’d let me, wouldn’t you? let me ravage my sweet little wife, hmm?” his voice is a low growl now, his hand moving to the small of your back, pressing you closer against him. “i know you’d take it so well, wouldn’t you?”

you can feel his restraint slipping, the tension in his muscles as he holds back from doing exactly what he wants. his fingers dig into your skin, just enough to make you gasp. “don’t be shy,” he coos, his breath hot against your ear. “i know you’re curious. let me show you, darling. i’ll take such good care of you… even when i’m being rough.”

his words stir something inside you, a heat that spreads through your chest, and you nod, your voice barely above a whisper. "okay…"

and that’s all the permission he needs.

"i’m gonna need you to turn around for me, sweet thing. you can do that for me, won’t you?” nanami's voice is thick, dripping with anticipation as he watches you, his eyes burning with desire. the sight of you, all flushed and innocent, makes his heart race, and he can barely hold himself back as he waits for you to move.

"like this?" your voice is a little shaky as you shift onto your stomach, pressing your chest against the bed, your silk nightgown riding up just enough to expose the soft curve of your hips. his anniversary gift to you clings to your body, doing nothing to hide the way your folds glisten with that sweet, sticky slick he knows so well. nanami groans, the sound deep and guttural, as his hand runs over your lower back, feeling the way you tremble under his touch.

"yeah, just like that," he murmurs, his voice low and rough as he kneels behind you. his gaze is locked onto the way your body moves, the way your thighs clench together in nervous anticipation. "god, you look perfect, darling," he adds, his hands moving to your hips, his fingers digging in just a little as he guides you into position.

your legs shake as you settle, your knees pressing into the bed, your ass lifted up in the air just the way he likes it. nanami licks his lips, his mouth practically watering as he gets a full view of your dripping folds, slick with arousal. he leans forward, his breath ghosting over your sensitive skin, and you let out a soft whimper, your body twitching as he inches closer.

"feels w-weird," you murmur, your voice shaky as you glance back at him, your eyes wide and unsure. your cheeks burn with embarrassment, and you can’t help the way your body tenses, the unfamiliar position making you feel exposed.

but nanami just hums, barely paying attention to your words. "it's not weird, sweetheart," he says, his tone soft, almost condescending, as his large hand gently wraps around the back of your neck, guiding your head down to the pillow. "you're just not used to being taken like this… but i promise, you’ll love it." his fingers tighten ever so slightly, grounding you in place as he lowers himself between your thighs.

his hot breath against your folds makes you shiver, and the heat of his mouth soon follows, pressing against your cunt. your breath hitches, a high-pitched whine escaping your lips as he takes his first taste of you, his tongue dragging slowly through your slick. "god, you taste so good," he groans, his voice muffled by the way his mouth is buried between your legs.

your little whimpers fill the room as his tongue works against you, his lips sealing around your clit as he sucks gently, drawing out a soft cry from your throat. his grip on your neck tightens, keeping you in place as your hips squirm, trying to move away from the overwhelming sensation.

"stay still," nanami growls, his voice rougher now, a warning laced in his words. "i’m just getting started." his mouth works faster, his tongue flicking over your swollen nub as he devours you, ignoring your shaky protests as the pleasure builds, your slick coating his chin. every time you try to pull away, his hold on you tightens, forcing you to stay put, to take what he’s giving you.

"but… it feels too much," you whimper, your voice cracking as you try to lift yourself up, only for nanami to press you down harder, his hand firm around your neck.

"shhh, darling," he murmurs, his voice softening just a little, though it’s laced with something darker, something almost cruel. "you're doing so well for me. just let go… let me take care of you. you trust me, don’t you?" his tongue presses harder against you, drawing tight circles over your clit that make you tremble beneath him.

your body betrays you, hips grinding against his face as you moan into the pillow. "y-yes, kento," you stutter, your head spinning as you try to hold onto some semblance of control, but his words sink into your mind, making you doubt your own discomfort. maybe he’s right. maybe you’re just not used to this.

"good girl," he murmurs approvingly, his voice vibrating against your cunt as he goes back to his task, his tongue pushing deeper, sliding through your folds, tasting every inch of you. "you can take it, can’t you?" he coos, his hand moving from your neck to your hip, pulling you closer against his face as if he can’t get enough.

and you do, you try so hard to take it, your body shaking with the intensity of it all. but it’s so much, too much, and your mind feels hazy, lost in the overwhelming pleasure. "please," you cry out, your fingers digging into the sheets as you squirm beneath him, trying to catch your breath. "i don’t… i don’t know if i can —"

"you can," nanami interrupts, his voice firm, brooking no argument. "you’ll take it, because you’re my good girl, aren’t you?" he asks, his tone sweet yet manipulative, pulling you deeper into his control. "you don’t want to disappoint me, do you?"

his words send a thrill down your spine, a strange mix of pleasure and guilt twisting in your gut as you nod weakly. "n-no, kento…" you whisper, feeling the weight of his expectations press down on you, making you want to please him, to do exactly what he wants.

"that's right," he murmurs against your soaked folds, his lips curving into a smirk as he watches your body give in. "just relax… and let me make you feel good." his tongue dips inside you once more, pushing you closer to the edge, and all you can do is moan and whimper, lost in the haze of pleasure and his sweet, twisted words.

your thoughts are sluggish, a blissful haze clouding your mind, but that sharp smack! to your ass snaps you back to reality. your body jerks at the unexpected hit, a startled sob escaping your lips as the sting spreads across your skin. "k-kento!" you stammer, your voice shaking as tears well up in your eyes, the sudden roughness leaving you confused. you try to push yourself up, to pull away from him, but he holds you firmly in place, his grip on your hips tightening. your silk nightgown clings to your damp skin, sticking to you as if mocking how easily you've come undone under his touch.

“mm, what’s wrong, darling?” nanami’s voice is dark, condescending, laced with something that sends a shiver down your spine. he barely pauses as his mouth continues to suckle on your swollen clit, his teeth grazing the sensitive nub, making you cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure. “thought you liked when i touched you like this. am i wrong, sweetheart? or are you just pretending?” his tone is so sweet, but the words sting, making your heart race as you frantically try to shake your head, even though your body betrays you, hips still twitching against his face.

you sob again, your body trembling, tears staining the pillow beneath you as you desperately try to shift away from his relentless hold. surely, surely he’ll understand, right? this is too much, too fast — he’s never been this rough with you before, never slapped your ass like you were nothing more than a common whore. your soft whimpers fill the room as you squirm under him, but he just chuckles against your cunt, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure through your body.

"oh no, baby… you're not running away from me," nanami coos, his voice dripping with faux concern as his hand comes down hard on your ass again, the sharp smack! echoing in the room. the sting leaves you gasping, your legs trembling as he gropes your tender skin, kneading it roughly between his fingers. “not when i’m having so much fun with you.” his lips curl into a smirk as he watches you struggle, his eyes dark and hungry, and god, it’s almost like he’s enjoying this — the way you’re fighting against your own pleasure, against the way your body reacts to his every touch.

you try to protest, your voice breaking with every sob, but the words don’t come out right. they’re messy, slurred, and barely intelligible as you choke out, “i-it’s t-too much…” your voice trails off as another sob bubbles up, but nanami just clicks his tongue in mock disapproval, pulling away from your cunt only to slap your ass again, his hand leaving a hot, stinging mark.

"shh, shh," he hushes you, his voice so gentle it almost makes your heart ache. "you're doing so well, sweetheart. don't be dramatic." he nuzzles his face back between your thighs, licking a slow, torturous stripe up your folds. “besides, good housewives don’t run away from their husbands, do they?” his words are soft, coaxing, and you can feel the weight of guilt settling in your chest as he speaks.

you don’t want to disappoint him, not after all the love and care he’s shown you. you’re his good little wife, the one who’s supposed to please him, to make him happy. you can’t let him down now, can you? not when he’s telling you how good you are, how perfect you are for him.

"i’m only doing this because i know you can take it," he says, his voice dripping with sickening sweetness as his hand gropes your ass again, squeezing the tender flesh while his mouth returns to your needy cunt, tongue flicking over your clit. "don’t you want to make me happy, darling? you’re such a good girl for me…"his words twist in your mind, making you second-guess yourself, filling you with that familiar sense of guilt. he’s right, isn’t he? you should be able to take this, you should want to make him happy. "i-i do," you stutter, your voice shaky and broken as you try to steady yourself, to focus on pleasing him like a good wife should.

“i knew you would,” nanami praises, his voice dark and dripping with satisfaction as his fingers dig deeper into your skin, holding you firmly in place. “you’d never disappoint me, right, sweetheart?” he asks, his tongue flicking faster, his teeth grazing your sensitive nub again. “because that’s what good housewives do, after all. they make their husbands happy.”

your mind spins, overwhelmed by the mix of pleasure and guilt. you don’t want to let him down, even though your body screams for release from the intensity. he wants this from you, and you — his sweet, pliant little wife — will give it to him.

your sobs turn into soft, helpless whimpers as nanami continues his relentless assault on your cunt, his hands groping your ass, his mouth working you over until your mind goes blank. all you can think about is making him proud, pleasing him, being the good girl he needs you to be.

nanami pulls away for just a moment, his mouth glistening with your essence, and the sudden absence of his tongue leaves you reeling. your mind is a hazy jumble of conflicting desires — you want him to continue, to ravage you until you can’t think straight, but at the same time, there’s a strange heat curling in your lower belly that feels almost painful. it’s confusing, and you can’t quite articulate what you need, but your whimpers fill the room.

“k-kento,” you stammer, trying to catch your breath. “it... it feels weird.” your voice is soft, shaky, and you glance over your shoulder at him, hoping he’ll understand. the look on his face is amused, but there’s something darker behind his eyes, something that sends another thrill of excitement through you.

“oh, sweetheart,” he tuts, shaking his head as he runs his fingers over the bruises he’s left on your ass, tracing the tender skin. each gentle touch sends a shiver down your spine, the sting pulling you momentarily out of the throbbing heat that’s building within you. “you’re just not used to it yet, are you?” he says, feigning concern as his fingers dip lower, teasingly close to where you want him most. “but don’t worry. i’m here to help you with that.”

you whimper again, the heat in your belly intensifying, and you can feel the slickness pooling between your thighs, almost dripping onto the bedsheets. it’s enough to drive him wild, the sight of you like this — so desperate, so needy, and all because of him. “look at that,” he murmurs, his voice low and filled with satisfaction. “you’re already making a mess, baby. and you didn’t even know you wanted it this bad.”

the humiliation washes over you in waves, but there’s also something intoxicating about it. the way he looks at you, the way he’s so sure of your desires, makes your heart race. “i didn’t mean to…” you try to protest, but your words fall flat, the need pooling in your belly making it hard to think.

“didn’t mean to what?” he asks, his tone teasing as he pushes your legs apart, exposing you fully to his gaze. “didn’t mean to be such a good girl? or didn’t mean to make such a pretty little mess?” his fingers brush against your folds, teasingly slow, and you can’t help the way your body responds, hips instinctively pushing toward him, seeking more.

“both,” you whimper, your voice trembling. but deep down, you know you’re lying. you want to be good for him, want to feel every bit of his attention on you. and as he leans in closer, his breath warm against your slickness, you know you’re trapped in this web he’s spun — caught between pleasure and pain, between wanting to submit and the desperation to be more than what you are.

“you know,” he continues, his voice a smooth purr, “it’s okay to want this, my love. to want me to take you like this.” his fingers tease your slick folds, and you can feel yourself starting to melt under his touch. “you don’t have to pretend anymore. just let go and be a good little housewife.”

the way he says it makes your heart flutter, the words igniting something within you that makes you want to surrender completely. you nod, though the heat in your belly feels overwhelming. “i-i want to be good for you, kento…” your voice is barely above a whisper, and his smirk widens at your admission.

“that’s my girl,” he praises, his fingers slipping lower, circling your entrance with a teasing slowness that makes you whine. “now, let’s see how well you can take it.” he pushes a finger inside you, and the sensation sends shockwaves through your body. “and remember, sweetheart, it’s all about trust. you trust me, don’t you?”

“y-yes,” you breathlessly reply, knowing you should feel ashamed, but all you can think about is how good it feels to submit to him, how right it feels to give in to the heat building inside you. with every movement, he’s taking you further down the path he’s set, and somehow, you can’t help but follow him.

the pressure in your lower belly intensifies, morphing into that familiar, overwhelming urge to pee. panic sets in as you feel the heat pooling dangerously close to the point of no return. “k-kento, please stop,” you whimper, trying to catch your breath, but the desperate tone in your voice only seems to encourage him.

“stop?” he echoes, a teasing lilt to his voice as he dives deeper into your slick folds. “but sweet thing, you’re just getting started. you can’t be telling me you’re ready to quit now.” he flicks your nub with his tongue, each movement driving you further into a haze of pleasure mixed with panic.

“n-no, really, i need to —” you cry out, but the words fall away as he resumes his relentless assault, fingers and tongue working in perfect harmony against you. the way he handles you feels almost cruel, pushing you closer to the edge while you’re begging him to pull back. “i can’t — please, i don’t want to —”

“you don’t want to what?” he taunts, the pressure in your belly mounting. “pee? is that what my little housewife is afraid of? come on, don’t be shy.” he grips your ass tighter, fingers digging in almost painfully, forcing you to feel every bit of the humiliation coursing through you. “you’re such a needy little thing, aren’t you? all that sweet slick just begging for attention. who knew you’d turn out to be such a filthy girl?”

his words only heightens your arousal, the conflicting sensations spinning you into a frenzy. you’re crying now, tears staining the pillow beneath you as you squirm, desperately trying to hold it all together. “kento, please… i don’t want to do that to you,” you sob, your voice cracking under the strain.

“what kind of husband would i be if i let you hold back?” he replies, his voice a mix of mockery and lust. “just let it go, sweet thing. i’ll take care of you. you know i will.”

his words are like a trigger, and you can’t help but feel your body betraying you. the pressure finally builds to an unbearable level, and in one split second, everything blurs. your body arches against his, and as if on cue, you squirt, the warm release spilling over him as your mind goes blank.

“there you go,” he murmurs, watching the way you lose yourself in that moment, pleasure and humiliation crashing over you in waves. “such a good girl, letting it all out for me.”

you can’t process anything; it’s as if time stands still. all you know is the intense heat of your orgasm and the way your body shakes as you surrender to the pleasure, feeling utterly lost in a world where you’re just his — completely at his mercy.

you blink slowly, your body slowly stirring as the soft glow of the morning light filters through the curtains. your mind feels heavy, like it's clawing its way back to reality, and the familiar scent of kento grounds you. his strong arms are wrapped around you, pulling you closer, and his voice — so calm, so sweet — cuts through the lingering haze.

"ah, you're awake," he chuckles, his breath warm against your ear as he holds you tighter. "you fell asleep mid-conversation, love."

your heart skips a beat, the fog in your mind parting slightly. mid-conversation? you think, but something feels off. it takes a moment for your brain to catch up. everything that happened before — the slaps, the biting, the way he degraded you... it felt so real. but now, looking at him, holding you so tenderly, his face filled with nothing but love and adoration, the confusion creeps in.

was it just a dream?

you bite your lip, feeling a sense of guilt creep up your spine. you can't ask him that. what kind of wife would accuse her loving husband of something so horrible? of course it was a dream. why else would he be so sweet right now? you can’t help but feel ashamed for even thinking that something so disturbing could have happened. you’ve known kento for years. he's gentle, loving, patient. he would never treat you like that.

yet, there’s a nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach. as much as you want to brush it off, your body remembers too vividly. your skin tingles where his hands had been rough, and your thighs ache as if they’d been held down too long. but that’s impossible… right?

"you okay?" kento’s voice brings you back to the present, his brow furrowed slightly as he looks down at you with concern. "you seem a bit off."

"n-no, i’m fine," you quickly stammer, forcing a smile. "just a weird dream, i guess…" your words trail off, your voice barely steady. a weird dream? you’re not even sure if that’s true anymore, but you can’t ask him. you can't upset him with something that’s likely your own mind playing tricks on you.

kento's expression softens, and he presses a kiss to your forehead, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek. “must’ve been some dream. but don’t worry about it. i’m here now, okay?”

you nod, feeling your heart twist in your chest. why am i doubting him? he’s being so loving, so perfect. god, you’re a terrible wife for even thinking something was wrong, for questioning his intentions. your mind whirls, and you chastise yourself for being paranoid. what kind of wife doesn’t trust her own husband?

you glance down, and your eyes catch the damp spot on the hem of your nightgown, sending a ripple of unease through you. wait, why is it wet? you swallow, your throat tightening as you try to think of an explanation. maybe you knocked over a glass of water in your sleep. that’s it, it has to be. no need to overthink it.

"you sure you’re okay?" kento asks again, pulling you closer, his hand resting on your lower back. too close. "you’re quiet this morning."

you force another smile, pushing the gnawing doubts deep down where they can't surface. "yeah, just… tired. i probably didn’t sleep well."

he hums softly in response, tracing gentle circles on your back. “you work too hard. you’ve always been so anxious about little things, haven’t you?” he says, his voice so caring, so understanding. but it stings. his words hit a sensitive nerve, making you feel like you’re overreacting. “it’s probably nothing, love. you always get worked up over these things, remember?”

god, he’s right. you’ve always been the anxious one, the overthinker. what if it’s all in your head? kento’s never hurt you before, so why would he start now? maybe you did dream it. you’ve been so stressed lately — you’re just imagining things.

"yeah… you're right," you whisper, though the words leave a bitter taste in your mouth. why can’t you just let it go? you can’t keep doubting him, doubting yourself. he’s been nothing but loving, and yet here you are, second-guessing every little thing.

"good girl," kento says, pulling you in closer as if rewarding you for coming to the ‘right’ conclusion. "see? everything’s fine." his hand slips lower, gently caressing the fabric of your nightgown. “you’ll feel better once you relax.”

he’s right, you think, the guilt of your earlier doubts settling like a heavy weight in your chest. why do I always have to overthink things? you don’t want to upset him, you don’t want to be difficult. good wives don’t question their husbands like this.

but as you close your eyes, trying to settle into his embrace, the uneasy feeling refuses to fade entirely. you ignore the lingering wetness at the edge of your gown, forcing yourself to believe it’s just water—because it has to be.

right?

!! aa this was a lot darker than what i usually right (i think?), but i hope you all enjoy. give it a lil' reblog and a comment if ya did＞﹏＜

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thewickedjazzy · 3 months ago

Text

Level 2: Slow Burn [Shotgunning] for Kinktober.

ᡣ𐭩Chuuya Nakahara x afab! Reader

Synopsis : sweet chuu has been secretly dying to try shotgunning with you, and tonight, the ginger finally snaps—ensuring you a good time.

Warnings: nsfw mdni, soft!chuuya, obv. shotgunning/sharing smoke, oral sex (giving and receiving), pussy drunk!chuuya, cum eating, suggestive themes, smoking, light bdsm (blindfold), sensual touches, consent.

Word count: 2.5k

ᡣ𐭩-check Kink Coin to unlock bonus fics´-

it was one of your usual quiet evenings, wrapped in the warm glow of a flickering candle on the table. you sit comfortably, your legs tucked beneath you as you thumb through the pages of your favourite book, utterly absorbed. a glass of red wine sits within arm’s reach, half-full, forgotten for now as you sink deeper into the story.

across from you, your boyfriend sits with a poetry book in his lap. he’s been reading—or at least pretending to.

of course, you notice he hasn’t turned a page in a while. you glance up, catching his eyes on you—no, not just on you, but on your lips. he quickly looks away, pretending to read, but the corner of your mouth twitches into a smile. you’ve seen that look before. he’s been distracted for days, something swirling behind those deep, pretty azure eyes of his, but he hasn’t voiced it yet.

you shift slightly, the sound of fabric rustling pulling his eyes back to you. when you reach for the pack of cigarettes on the table and slide one between your lips, it’s the last straw. he watches, almost in a trance, as you strike the lighter. the flame flickers briefly before the tip of the cigarette burns red, and you take a slow drag. the way your delicious lips cradle the slim cigarette, the lazy curl of smoke that escapes your mouth, clings to your lips like the embrace of shadowy lovers—he tries to shift his attention to the book on his lap but can’t take it anymore.

“baby, what’s up? i know when you’re too lost, thinking about something,” you say softly, pulling him from his thoughts. he looks up, and this time, he doesn’t bother hiding the way his gaze lingers on your lips, watching the way the smoke dances around them.

he sighs, setting his book aside and leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “doll... there’s something i’ve been wanting to try with you,” he murmurs, his voice so beautifully soft. “but i... wasn’t sure how to bring it up.”

you smile, intrigued, of course. it's not like every day you see chuuya this reluctant. it isn’t like him to be shy about anything with you, but the subtle blush colouring his cheeks and the way he murmurs "doll" sends a shiver throughout your entire body, making your heart lowkey skip a beat. “mhm? tell me,” you coax softly, the cigarette balanced delicately between your fingers as you take another slow drag, eyes never leaving his.

he hesitates for just a moment longer, eyes locked on your lips. “have ya ever heard of...uh.. shotgunning?”

your smile widens, heart fluttering at the way he bites his lip and looks away, his pale features now painted a deep red hue. chuuya is so often confident, but in moments like this, he shows a softer side only you are allowed to see. “i've heard of it... why? you... wanna try it?” you purr softly, leaning forward.

he gives a slow nod, and you notice his adam’s apple bob as he swallows thickly. “yeah... but only if you're comfortable with it.”

you chuckle softly, finding his bashfulness endearing. “chuu, baby” you say, warmth lacing your words as you put out the cigarette. “you know that i trust you.”

“good, then... trust me on this.” he stands and heads to the bedroom, disappearing for a moment before returning with a silk burgundy blindfold in hand. settling back down across from you on the couch, he meets your gaze with underlying excitement, shimmering in his azure eyes, the blindfold draped loosely between his fingers.

your breath catches slightly as you see the blindfold, excitement curling in your belly. he’s never done something like this before, but you’re already intrigued. “what are you planning, chuu?” you giggle softly.

he leans in close, his breath brushing against your lips. “i want you to feel everything... without sight. let me take the lead, doll. i promise you’ll like it.”

your pulse quickens as you nod, lips parting slightly in anticipation.

his bare, slender fingers graze your cheek as he carefully ties the blindfold around your eyes. the world around you fades to darkness, heightening your other senses, god, you never thought something like this could feel this good. the way you can hear his soft breathing, the rustle of his clothes, and definitely feel the heat radiating off him as he inches closer—it’s like multiplying bliss by infinity and getting bonus points for it.

“relax f’me, baby,” his raspy low voice makes your heart skip a beat. you take a deep breath, your body already responding to his soothing tone.

you feel the soft brush of his lips against your temple, the barest touch of his fingers on your jaw as he tilts your chin up slightly. “yeahh.. you look s'pretty like this, doll,” he murmurs, his words wrapping around you like a caress. “just focus on me, yeah?”

you nod again, and you can hear the faint click of his lighter as he takes a drag from his cigarette. the next moment, his hand is back on your jaw, guiding you closer to him.

“breathe with me, doll” he whispers against your lips.

you part your lips, waiting for the sensation. and then, it hits you as he exhales, the hot smoke flowing from his mouth to yours. the warmth of his breath, the taste of the smoke and the closeness of his body—it’s all so intoxicating, so overwhelming. you inhale deeply, taking in the smoke and the sensation of his lips hovering so close to yours, but not even touching, it's quite torturous in a good way.

you can barely stand it—the taste of him mingles with the smoke, the sweet faint smell of his perfume, the closeness, the way his fingers trace the line of your cheekbone—it’s all too much, in the best possible way. your belly tingles with the sensation, every nerve alive under his touch.

“shit… umh,” he curses softly against your lips, his warm breath grazing your lower lip as he exhales, his forehead pressing lightly against yours. he closes his eyes for a moment, savouring the feel of you. he's on cloud nine, his mind short-circuiting from the way you trust him so completely, surrendering every inch of yourself to him—it’s too much. “i’ve been wanting to do this for so long.”

you let out a breathless chuckle, your breath shaky as you brush your lips against his, barely touching but enough to make his cock harden beneath his boxers. “then don’t stop,” you breathe, your words almost lost in the quiet of the room—he doesn't need to be told twice.

he takes another slow drag, this time letting the smoke linger in his lungs before leaning in again. soft pink lips graze yours, just the faintest touch as he exhales into your mouth once more, the smoke curling around your tongue. the gesture, so tender yet so intimate, sends a wave of heat rushing through you. your fingers slip under the choker around his neck, tugging him closer, needing to anchor yourself in the moment.

and just then, you feel his delicious lips finally press against yours, the taste of smoke still lingering on both your tongues. you feel his hands slide down to your waist, pulling you closer as you gasp for air.

the cigarette lies forgotten in the ashtray, its smoke fading into the background as you lose yourself in the taste of his lips.

he groans softly as your body presses against his, pulling away, his lips ghosts over your cheek, pressing soft, intimate kisses before trailing down to your jaw and then the sensitive spot just beneath your ear. “god... ngh, you’ve got no idea how fucking good you feel...” he murmurs, “...I need you, s'much.”

your fingers tangle in his soft ginger hair, giving a gentle tug, not being able to see makes you even more sensitive to every breathless word he whispers. he pulls back just enough to take in the sight of you, admiring how gorgeous you look with your lips parted, breath coming in soft, needy gasps.

he then stands up, towering over you as you sit obediently on the couch, still blindfolded. the room is silent for a moment, filled only by the sound of your own breathing, until you hear the unmistakable sound of his belt buckle coming undone. the soft clink of metal makes your mouth water, pleasure building with every passing second. you bite your lower lip, licking it delightfully, knowing exactly what's about to come.

you feel the soft pad of his thumb brush against your lower lip. instinctively, you open your mouth, letting him slide it inside. you suck on it seductively, swirling your tongue around his finger, drawing a deep, throaty groan from him.

he pulls his thumb from your mouth slowly, the wetness lingering on your lips as you wait for him impatiently.

the next moment, you feel the weight of his cock pressing against your lips, the soft, swollen tip brushing against them. without hesitation, you open your mouth wider, welcoming him in, and slide your lips down his length. the feeling of his girthy cock filling your mouth, warm and heavy, makes your cunt drip with pleasure. You take him in deeper, swallowing him whole until your lips meet the base of his cock, your throat tightening around him.

“haah..ffuck,” he drawls, his hand moving to the back of your head, gripping your hair gently as he throws his head back, lost in the sensation—no matter how turned on he is, chuuya is always gentle with you. he’s never the type to push your head down—he always makes sure you're comfortable, no matter what.

you feel the way his hips twitch as you take him deeper, his tip repeatedly hitting the back of your throat, but the moment he hears you gag, he pulls away, “doll, you okay?”

you nod in response, and immediately take him back into your mouth, allowing him to slide deeper once more.

“haahh, so greedy f’me? mmnnghh”

you hollow your cheeks and move your mouth over him, sucking him with deliberate strokes. the wet sounds blending with his soft whimpers and mewls fill the room as you work him with your mouth. every time you take him in balls-deep, you can feel his cock twitching against your throat. you work your tongue around that sensitive spot just below his tip and precum oozes out, coating your tongue as you savor his taste

“yes fuck nngh, lookin’ ...haah s’fuckin’ pretty like that, baby...ffuckk,” he gasps, bucking his hips forward against your mouth. the sight of you—blindfolded, taking him so greedily—pushes him closer to the edge. his grip on your hair tightens a bit as he fights to maintain control, but the way your tongue swirls around him, the way your mouth swallows him whole has him thinking that he may just cum from feeling your warm mouth around him.

you hum around his cock, sending vibrations through his entire body, and he swears under his breath, his hips picking up the pace slightly. he’s lost in the pleasure, in the sight of you so lecherously sucking him like your life depends on it, and he knows he won’t last much longer like this.

but just as he nears his peak, he pulls out of your mouth, a shaky chuckle escaping his lips as he sees your pouting frustration. “..c’mon baby, i’m here to make you feel good,” he murmurs.

removing your blindfold with a tender touch, his eyes eager to drink in the sight of how fucked out you're going to be in a few minutes, “mhm, yes, lemme see those pretty eyes of yours.”

he then kneels in front of you, easing down your soft panties and gently placing your legs over his shoulders as you recline against the couch.

reaching for the cigarette still burning in the ashtray, he takes a slow drag before exhaling the smoke directly onto your gooey cunt.

“hahh- chuu” you mewl, the sensation of the hot smoke against your sensitive skin leaves you breathless, your body frozen in place as you experience one of the most intense pleasures you’ve ever felt.

he takes another drag, letting the smoky haze drift over your swollen lips before putting out the cigarette in the nearby ashtray. he lets out a shaky groan, watching you drip faster than ever, clenching around nothing.

he showers your inner thighs with hot open-mouthed kisses, each kiss eliciting soft, pleading mewls from your glossed lips. “you like that doll? hmm? lemme hear that sweet voice of yours.” he hums against your thighs, totally focused on blowing your mind with ecstasy.

“..yess..s’much mmph”

with a hungry growl, he finally delves into your cunt, kneading your soft thighs as his tongue drags and explores your wet folds opening them only to plunge his hot tongue inside earning a lewd moan from you, he swirls his tongue around your now swollen clit before dragging a flat strip along your inner folds, completely pussydrunk.

deep blue eyes that you grew to adore, never leave yours as he groans against your cunt sending waves of sparks dancing behind your eyes.

your mouth falls open in a silent moan, hands gripping the couch beneath you as you struggle to voice anything except moans and mewls, “y-yes... chuu i'm clo- ahhh mnghh” you gasp, but your voice falters as his tongue alternates between licking your clit in circular motions and diving into your drooling cunt as if stopping would cost him his life.

you roll your hips against his mouth feeling that familiar heat ignite in your belly, sweating from how long he's been eating you out hungrily, you finally reach your peak, gushing all over his tongue as he hums in satisfaction licking up every drop of you with eager licks.

“hnngh fuck..doll... this may be the hottest shit we've ever done,” he drawls, his eyes locked on you as you pant and giggle, trying to hide the blush spreading across your cheeks with your hands. he brushes your hands aside gently and leans in, kissing you passionately once again, tasting yourself on his tongue makes your heart flutter.

“uhh...will you help me out a bit?” he pulls away muttering, your eyes widen as you see how hard he is now, precum glistening at his flushed tip, veins pulsating, apparently he's been edging himself on purpose.

and of course, you’re more than willing to do so. this man never fails to satisfy you, always putting your pleasure above his own. despite his fearsome reputation as a mafia executive, with you, he’s nothing but the sweetest, most tender, and caring boyfriend imaginable.

TAGS: @a-smol-bean @violetfruity @amanoava @falloutjuli @embersweapons @warriordemigosworld @cathias @alyszuha @v15aexe @vasarii @pe4rl-diver @sukidenks @dazaifavbandage @chuuminn @fyodorsprettynun @ace-0fspades69 @irasamu @trippyserval @alyszuha @bittysuguro @writingandmusing

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eddiesxangel · 3 months ago

Text

She Said Fuck Me Like I’m Famous (I Said Okay) | E.M

WC: 5.9k

Cw: fem!popstar!reader, modern au, fluff, smut, dirty talk, kinda Dom Eddie, oral (m & f), p in v, reader is on bc, creampies.

Summary: when you invite your online bestie over to spend the week with you for the first time, you don’t know what to expect when her over protective friends tag along

Meeting Robin was a happy accident that life sometimes throws at you. Even though she was a stranger on the other side of the country, she was one of the most genuine friends you could have ever asked for. It all started slowly. You had both been on the same Discord server because of your mutual love for an author, and things went from there. After almost three years of friendship, you finally decided to meet in person!

You guys organized everything. She was flying to California and staying with you in your two-bedroom apartment for a little over a week. You had so much planned for the both of you, especially over the weekend, because it just so happened you were also to perform at this year’s Coachella.

It was your first big performance at a festival like this. It would do wonders for your career and hopefully bring you new fans.

Robin was your biggest supporter. She was so excited to see you perform live for the first time, not to mention the VIP passes you had promised her. It was hard to seek out genuine friendships in the line of work that you do. Everyone wants something, so you didn’t disclose your real name and what you did until you could trust her entirely. Robin was one of those people who you couldn't help but love; her bubbly personality and heart of gold were something you latched onto.

You were not taken aback upon receiving a text from Robin informing you that her two extremely protective male friends were adamant about accompanying her to ensure her safety. She had previously mentioned them, and from what she shared, they come across as genuinely great guys. Their concern for their friend's well-being is commendable, and you appreciate their commitment to looking out for her.

She also told you that the guys would rather stay in a hotel with her, but if they felt comfortable, they didn’t mind if she stayed with you for the rest of the week. You weren’t offended. It was unbelievable that you invited someone you’d never met into your home. Still, she was one of your closest confidants, even though you’ve never seen one another in person, primarily through texting and FaceTime.

The day was finally here, and you let Robin know that your assistant would pick the three of them up at the airport because you were in rehearsals until 2:00 p.m.

“See, Rob, this is exactly why we came with you!” Steve pointed at the text message as she read it out loud.

“What do you mean?” Robin asked with a scowl.

“She is sending a random person to pick us up? We are about to be human trafficked for all we know!”

Robin rolled her eyes and hiked up her carry-on over her shoulder.

“Men… so dramatic.” She whispered under her breath.

The three wandered down the corridor until they saw a small woman about 5'1" with a bright smile holding a sign that read ‘ Birdie + 2.’

That was cute; you used her Discord name.

“Oh, yes. Here is the woman who’s going to kidnap us,” she jesters, and the two men can’t help but roll their eyes.

“Hi! Are you Kelsey?” Robin approached the woman who she towered over.

“Yes, Hi! If you want to come with me, the car is waiting. She’s so excited you’re finally here; it’s all she’s been talking about.”

Kelsey opened the door for the three friends to get in and made her way to the driver’s seat.

It’s been a long wait, but your rehearsal wrapped up right on schedule. You made sure because you didn’t want to waste any time. You’ve been so antsy all day, waiting to go home and meet your best friend for the first time. You were so nervous; what if she thought you were annoying? What if the paparazzi ruined her time here? On your way home, the what-ifs circled your mind, but you tried to shake that all away when you got the text from Kelsey that they made it safely and were on their way to the hotel to drop off their things. Then she would bring them over to your apartment.

The minutes tick by as you wait for them in your apartment. You double-check the fridge to make sure you have refreshments and snacks. They must be tired and hungry from the flight.

Your manicured fingernails tap the cold marble countertop in your kitchen as you nervously scroll your phone, trying to distract yourself until the condo buzzer startles you. You run over and answer the speaker, telling them to come on up.

You anxiously count the seconds as you wait for them to approach the door. When the elevator bell dings on your floor, 17 stories up, you open the door eagerly to see Kelsey get off first.

You’re bouncing on your toes as you half-heartedly skip through the hallway, cheering as you see the freckled-faced girl enter the corridor.

“Birdie!” You clap, jump, and run to her with a smile so big your cheeks burn.

Cheers and squeals fill the small space as you take one another in your arms. If the people surrounding you had known better, your embrace would have made it look like you were lovers.

“I can’t believe you’re finally here!”

"I can't believe you're real." You step back to look at her in full. Finally, after all this time, you are united with your bestie. You tell one another everything. Robin confided in you about how she likes girls, and you said you were so scared that you're not good enough to be here. The imposter syndrome was extreme, but she put your mind at ease.

One of the men behind Robin had cleared their throat, reminding the both of you that they were also there.

“Oh my god, sorry.” Robin jumps.

“This is Steve, and this is Eddie.” Robin steps out of your way, and your gaze falls on the two handsome men standing behind her. Your heart flutters a bit, taking in both of them.

Steve and Eddie were complete opposites in their style. Steve had a preppy look, with a soft smile and gentle, kind eyes that reflected his warm personality. In contrast, Eddie's style was edgy and tough, but his eyes were surprisingly kind and strikingly beautiful, hinting at a depth beyond his tough exterior.

“Hi, I’m y/n, but you can call me Bunnie.” You stuck out your hand to introduce yourself.

“Damn, kinda disappointed you’re real; I had 50 bucks going that you were catfishing Rob this whole time,” Steve giggled as you shook his hand.

“Shut up,” Robin rolled her eyes.

“Me? A catfish? Never,” you giggled.

You moved to Eddie, and he stood there wide-eyed as he tried to speak, say hello, hi, or something, but he felt like his tongue was suddenly too big for his mouth. There was no way you were real. There's no way you were this pretty in real life. There was no way Robin was friends with a celebrity.

Unsurprisingly, Eddie had no idea who you were when Robin told him and Steve she was coming out to see you. However, Steve’s reaction made it seem like you were a big deal, so he googled you and looked at your Instagram beforehand. Never in his life did he see someone so beautiful. The attraction was instant, but now, seeing you in person, there was no denying his inevitable crush on you.

Eddie finally managed to choke out a “hi.” His cheeks heated up as his voice cracked like he was 12 again.

“It’s so nice to meet you,” you smile but quickly turn to Robin.

“Come,” you say, linking your arm with hers as you return to your condo.

“Thanks for letting us tag along with Birdie here,” Steve smiled.

After the initial excitement, you had all settled down. You were lounging on your balcony, eating and drinking to your heart's content.

“No problem, the more the merrier,” you smile.

Robin had told you about her friends back home; you also felt like you strangely knew them.

“What do you guys want to do first? Eddie, any suggestions?” You ask, singling him out.

Eddie hardly knew what to say. It was as if his brain had stopped functioning when you spoke to him. He wanted to woo and get to know you and hoped and prayed that you were as good of a person as Robin raved you to be.

“W-what?" He stuttered and looked at you wide-eyed. "Uh, I'm not sure. What do you have in mind?”

Without a beat, you rambled off the list of activities you had in mind, and Eddie listened so intently to everything; he would go anywhere as long as he was in your company.

“He, man, help me get some more drinks,” Steve said, nudging Eddie’s knee.

“No, please, you’re my guest. Allow me.” You got to stand, but Steve insists.

“Take advantage, let them dote on us.” Robin giggled.

“Dude, you’re really into her, aren’t you?” Steve smirked once the two men were back inside and out of earshot.

“How could I not be? Hello, she’s like the perfect woman,” Eddie half whispered.

Eddie took you in one more time through the sliding glass door. Not only was your style darker and edgy, but you’re witty and funny and don’t seem too vapid for a Hollywood star. He had a preconceived notion about Hollywood starlets; however, you seemed so down to earth, and you loved talking music with him; even if you are a pop star, you know your shit when it came to writing and playing guitar.

“You should ask her out this week and see what happens.”

“No, she’s not into me.”

“Maybe not yet? But how could she not be? You’re a catch. You gotta be yourself; you’re too in your head right now. Just think of her as an extension of Robin.”

“An extension of Robin?”

“They’re practically the same person; just don’t think about how hot she is.”

That’s easy for you to say.” Eddie rolls his eyes.

“How?”

“I don’t know, man. You’re King Steve, Steve 'the hair' Harrington, and you know how to flirt with girls.”

“So do you.”

“Not girls like that!” He points towards you and Robin, oblivious to the conversation, gabbing away about who knows what.

“You’re telling me that a girl who looks like that isn’t going to be attracted to a guy who looks like you? “ he raised a brow.

“I don’t know?” Eddie shrugged.

“Nah, dude, you’re being too hard on yourself. Listen to me, be yourself, and see what happens.”

“Okay,” he sighed, bringing the drinks out for you and Robin.

As the night wore on, Eddie became more confident speaking to you and less intimidated after the talk with Steve in the kitchen. When the night ended, you were all disappointed to say goodbye but excited about what tomorrow would bring.

The past few days have been absolutely hectic. Rehearsals for the upcoming show have consumed your mornings, followed by afternoons filled with various outings. It's a whirlwind from sound check to meeting up with your guests at their hotel or wherever they are.

Eddie’s crush was starting to take over his mind. Every night before he went to sleep, he thought about you and watched videos of you. He even went so far as to put your name on YouTube and “cute moments” afterwards.

Nothing could stop Eddie from getting you off his mind. He was so excited when you gave him your number, even if he was too nervous to text you. His excitement doubled when you followed him on Instagram, and he spastically went through all his posts to make sure nothing was embarrassing.

Today, you went to the beach. A relaxing day was much needed after your hectic schedule of rehearsals and entertaining your guests over the past few days.

You arrive to see your new friends secured a great spot by the water's edge. Robin is lying under the umbrella while the boys wrestle in the water.

“Is Eddie single?” you ask after settling down with Robin on the sand.

“The most chronically single person I’ve ever met; dude hasn’t been in a relationship since he confessed his love for a cheerleader in high school, and I wouldn’t even count that as a girlfriend.”

You stop and ponder this newfound information as you watch him from afar. As you observe him splashing around, you see him in a new light. He is lean but has some muscle. His various tattoos and how he looks in a bathing suit is giving you butterflies.

“What’s wrong with him?” You ask nervously.

“Nothing is wrong with him; he’s just… I don’t know how to explain it. The girls in our town aren’t into guys who look or act like Eddie. They’re all stuck up, snooty rich kids, you know? And Eddie has had it rough; he grew up on the poorer side of town and his parents. His uncle raised him, so everyone looked down at him.” Robin sighed, hating the way life had treated her friend.

“Trust me, I know about stuck-up assholes. I live in their capital.” You snort.

“So why are you asking about Ed? Any particular reason?” Robin peaks at you from under her sunglasses. ”

“He seems different from the guys in L. A” You twiddle with the strings on your bikini bottoms.

“Well, I know he has a big fat crush on you.”

“Really?” Your face lit up, giving away your motive for conversation.

“Seems like you do, too girl friend.” She nudged you, and you tried to hide your face under your beach towel.

“Ooooooooooo Bunnie has a crush on Eddie the Freak.” Robin teased.

“What did he do to earn that title?”

“There are many rumours; I’m sure you’ll find out soon.” She wiggled her brows suggestively.

Robins’s innuendo had you giggling so hard that you almost started crying.

You pulled Eddie’s attention when he heard your angelic laugh. Eddie stood distracted by watching you lay out with Robin, your tattoos on display, more than he had seen initially. Your teeny black-and-white bikini was a sight for soar eyes, being stuck with Steve all day and night. With the sudden distraction, Steve had the opportunity to body-slam Eddie into the ocean.

Eddie’s audible “oof” was heard, and before Eddie knew it, he was gasping for air. When he finally got his bearing straight, he saw you looking over, concerned at the two men, then gave a slight wave to ensure he was okay.

“Playtimes over, Harrington,” Eddie shoved Steve off of him.

“Oh, I think it’s just beginning for you, Munson.”

The two men exited the water looking too hot for their own good, like some personal Baywatch episode was coming at you in 3D.

“Like what you see?” Eddie smirked at you as they both approached the both of you.

“Absolutely.” You squint up at him, the sun catching your eyes.

Eddie plopped beside you and shook his head like a dog getting ocean water all over you.

You squeak at how cold the water is.

“Oh, sorry, Bunnie, let me get that for you.” He smirks.

He brushes the water from your face with his towel.

Oh, he knows what he is doing.

Your skin deceived you as the goosebumps arose when Eddie touched your face.

“You cold, Bunnie?” Eddie noticed and pulled you in with him as he wrapped his towel around the both of you. Your bare back pressing against his cold, damp chest wasn’t helping, but hell, you were not about to start complaining.

“Thanks”

Robin gives you a pointed look, then immediately grabs Steve’s hand to yank him up.

“Come, we are getting food.”

Steve leaves without protest, seeing what Robin sees- that you and Eddie should have some alone time.

“So a little Birdie told me you have a reputation back home.” You were leaning up against Eddie’s chest, basking in the sun.

“Oh, did she, now? And what might that be.”

“that you’re a little freaky,” you giggle.

“You sure you want to know about th-"

“Oh my god! It is you! Oh my god, I love you. Can I please get a picture with you?” A girl not much younger than yourself, clearly a fan of yours, looks down at you, and Eddie is cuddled up.

Without missing a beat, you get up and greet the fan.

“Can you take our picture?” She gives her phone to Eddie before he even agrees that he’s getting up to help.

You give him an apologetic look. This was not the kind of day he signed up for.

You pose with the fan and talk with her briefly before she asks, “ Is that your boyfriend?”

You look over your shoulder to see Eddie again sitting under the umbrella.

“No, no, he’s a friend,” you smile.

“Too bad, you guys would be a cute couple.”

You entertain her only a few more minutes before she leaves.

“Sorry about that.” You sit back down beside Eddie.

“That’s okay, I get it. You’re famous and all.” He smiles.

“I’m not that famous,” you sigh.

“Don’t sell yourself short, sweetheart.”

“Well, maybe…” you shrug.

“You have strangers coming up to you complimenting your work; that’s sick as fuck if you ask me.”

“It's something I’ll never get used to.”

“Tell me more what it’s like?”

“What? Having a fan approach me?”

“Yea. I guess being a famous rockstar was all I ever dreamed of until a few years ago when I realized it wouldn’t be in the cards for me.

“What if it could be?”

“What do you mean?”

“I have a crazy idea.”

Pictures of you and a “Mystery guy” were planted all over the tabloids the following day. Of course, no one stopped to take a photo when it was just you and Robin or the four of you sitting on the beach.

“I’m sorry, Eddie. I didn’t mean for you to get dragged into my crazy.” You apologized while you were all out to dinner. Eddie was sat directly beside you.

“I think I like crazy,” he smirked and gently touched your knee.

You tried to hide your bashful smile while playing with the stem of your martini glass.

Robin and Steve instantly locked in on the chemistry between you. They tried to look at one another subtly, but you caught it.

“What are you guys up to?” You ask.

“Nothing,” Robin laughs, but Steve isn’t shy about the topic.

“You guys are cute,” he smirks into the glass before sipping the golden bubbly liquid.

“Steve!” You squeak.

“I agree,” Robin concurred.

You wanted to agree with them, but you hardly knew Eddie, but you yearned to know everything about him. The more time you spend with this group, the more you don’t want them to leave. You can’t imagine how it will be once they go home next week. You would kill for them to spend more time with, especially Robin and your newfound crush, Eddie.

As the sun sets on the horizon, casting a warm glow over the Coachella stage, you feel the nervous excitement building inside you. In just five minutes, it would be your turn to shine. Every move, every step, every beat was etched into your mind. You had rehearsed and memorized everything, from the choreography to the cues. The anticipation was palpable as you prepared to take the stage. Eddie Robin and Steve were set up in the VIP section, and you had an excellent sightline. You felt the cheers from the crowd pulsing through your veins as you stepped under the spotlight.

“She’s incredible!” Robin cheered.

“I had no idea she could sing like that!” Steve was in shock.

“What do you think, Eddie?” Robin turns, but her friend is nowhere in sight. “Ed? Hey, where is Eddie?”

Steve looks around, and he has no idea.

“Maybe he had to take a leak or something?”

Unbeknownst to them, you had a little surprise for your friends.

“How are we feeling tonight!?” You ask the crowd from centre stage.

The crowd roared in response.

“I said, “How are we feeling tonight? “ you ask again, and the crowd cheers as loud as possible.

“Very good, Coachella! I’m so grateful for you guys having me! this is a crucial moment in my career, a highlight, really.” You paced the stage.

“I’m so grateful for you guys to take time out of your day to come out and see me. It means more to me than you ever know! You guys make me feel like a rockstar!”

The crowd cheers again, even louder, and you can’t seem to break the smile off your face.

“Now, before we get this party started, I need you guys to give a warm welcome to a new friend of mine.” You look over to the side stage and wave a hand.

“Everyone, put your hands together for this rockstar! The best guitarist I’ve ever encountered! Give it up for Eddie Munson!” The crowd cheers as you ask them to, and you swear you hear Steve and Robin above all else.

Eddie cannot believe he is standing on stage in front of a crowd with thousands of people in California instead of 6 drunks in Hawkins, Indiana.

Eddie never imagined this opportunity would come to him, but here he was as if a magical being had granted him one wish in life.

When you looked at Eddie, a smile spread across your face, etched into his memory forever. Eddie looked so hot that you couldn’t help but rake your eyes up and down, taking him in. He wore his black ripped jeans, boots, and denim vest, showcasing his many tattoos.

The way you looked tonight was so beautiful. Eddie didn’t think he could make it through the three songs he’s rehearsed with you over the last two days.

Your music wasn’t Eddie’s usual genre. However, it wasn’t as bubblegum pop as he expected. He appreciated many rock elements and would be an idiot to pass up this opportunity.

“Okay, let’s rock!” And Eddie started the first riff of the second half of the setlist.

The crowd was electric, and Eddie’s heart felt like it would pound out of his chest, especially when it came to the guitar solo he absolutely nailed.

“Thank you, Coachella! Goodnight!” The roar of the crowd doesn't die down.

You grab Eddie by the hand and run off stage. As you make it to the stage, Eddie wraps you in a high so tight it takes your breath away.

“That was incredible! Unbelievable!” Eddie howled in excitement. “I can’t believe that just happened!”

“It’s incredible, isn’t it!” You smile.

“Yes! God, I could kiss you!”

“Who is stopping you?”

Maybe it was the adrenaline or perhaps it was the fact that Eddie would be leaving soon, but you wanted it so bad that you threw all caution to the wind.

“What?” Eddie’s eyes winded.

“Kiss me, rockstar. I know you want to.”

You pulled Eddie in by the guitar strap, and your lips connected. The moment his plump lips made contact with your deep cherry-cola-coloured ones, you knew this was something more than physical attraction. You haven’t felt a kiss like this in a very long time. The both of you pull away regretfully, but you are standing in the middle of backstage, and techs and roadies are running all over the place; you can’t just make out with Eddie here.

“Come home with me to my place tonight? You ask bravely.

Eddie quickly nods his head, at a loss for words.

“Okay,”

Nothing could top this moment for Eddie. It was you and him alone for the first time. He was in your bedroom, and the height he was feeling was too much to contain. Eddie pulled you in closer, his lips crashing into yours harder as his hands grabbed the silver material of your mini dress. He pushed you up against the wall, and you felt his tight hold on your body. His hard body pressed up against yours, and the only thing separating you was four layers of thin cloth dawning you and Eddie.

“Fuck you’re so hot.” You moan.

Eddie’s head spun at your confession. You thought he was hot. You, the girl who made all of his wildest dreams come true and then some.

“I want you,” you mumble into his lips.

Eddie didn’t need to be told twice before his hand travelled up between the soft skin of your plush thighs.

The way your skin felt under his fingertips makes you shiver. Slowly, his callused tips found their way to the cloth of your soaked panties.

Eddie moaned into you as his kiss trailed down the side of your jaw to your neck, catching that sweet spot that makes your pussy weep.

Eddie’s fingers delicately stroke up and down your slit like he would break you, but you need more. You can’t help your hips rock back and forth into his touch.

Eddie didn’t think he would end up with a pop star grinding into his hand when he planned his trip to Cali with his friend, but he wasn’t complaining. He would be happy if this was the furthest the two of you got.

“More,” You plead, and your hand wiggles its way between the two of you to stroke his already hardening cock.

Eddie buckles his hips into your hand unwillingly, but the feeling of your hand on his cock had him acting on instinct. The two of you dry-humping one another against the wall wasn’t enough.

“Need you, want you so bad,” Eddie confesses.

You push up off the wall and drag Eddie to your bed. You push him back with a giggle, then fall to your knees before him.

“Holy shit,” he whispers under his breath. Your gaze meets Eddie, and it’s like a siren is looking back up at him, ready to drown him with your lust.

You quickly unbuckle and unbutton and unzip everything containing Eddie’s bulge from you, and you’re pleasantly surprised when you finally unwrap him. His tip was already crying for your touch, so red and shiny due to the precum that had been leaking ever since you kissed him when you both got off stage. His long, thick shaft taunted you as if it might not be able to fit.

“Want to teach me why they call you Eddie the Freak?” You smirk.

“Fuck Bunnie, you don’t know what you’re asking for. "

“That’s why I’m asking, big boy.”

You don’t give Eddie a chance to respond before wrapping your warm lips around his fat tip.

“Yes, sweetheart, right there,” he draws out his words as you take him in further.

His hands grip the roots of your hair, pulling them taught as your mouth takes him to the back of your throat.

“Oh god,” He moans again. The way your mouth feels around his cock is making him want to thrust up into you, but he holds back for your sake. He knows you asked him to share why he’s called the freak, but he’s not ready to scare you away with his kinks, not yet.

“Fuck baby, you’re so big” You pull off and replace your mouth with your hand so you can catch your breath. Your lung capacity may be suitable for singing, but you can only hold so much breath.

“You think so, pretty girl?” Eddie brushed a fallen piece of hair from your face, and you swore you had never been so hot and bothered.

You bite your bottom lip and try to grind yourself on your heels for any source of friction as you take him back in your mouth. His taste was addictive, and so was the way he was looking down at you with a look in his eyes that made you feel so wanted.

“Such good girl; you like being on your knees for me?”

You nod your head and hum on his cock in a reference, and that makes Eddie’s head spin. The way your mouth is sending vibrations through him has him pulling you up off of him because he would end the night early if you keep that up.

You giggle as he switches your positions and strips himself. Your head hits your pillows, and you sink into the plush mattress.

“You’re wearing too many clothes," Eddie smirks as his hands find the hem of your dress, pushing it up, up, up, until it meets the lower part of your breasts. Then you take over, folding the fabric over your head.

“Fuuuuuuuuck” Eddie draws out before letting his head fall between them. He presses his face into your chest, kissing and sucking on your tits before he finally takes one nipple into his mouth.

“Tonight should be all about you, Sweetheart.” he nips at your sensitive skin.

“Should worship you like you deserve.”

A low main leaves your throat before Eddie dips down to discard your sodden panties. Finally, he has you where he wants; needy for him and naked.

“Knew you’d have sucha’ pretty pussy, Bunnie.”

“Edddieee” you cry; it’s pathetic how riled up you’ve become.

“Don’t be a brat now,” he warns, but that only makes your pussy throb even more than it has been.

You’re dying to be touched; you craved him so badly that you couldn’t stand it.

Eddie’s mouth dips down to your lower stomach, long drawn-out mouth kisses trailing along your skin around your mound, your under thighs. His teeth nipped and bit at your tender flesh, not breaking the skin but enough to mark you up, to claim you as his own.

“Eddie, please, baby, touch me.” You ask as you stroke the fallen hair out of his face.

“Asking so nicely, good girl.” He purrs.

You can’t help but let out a long sigh as Eddie's tongue makes contact with your swollen bundle of overly sensitive nerves.

He tasers you fully as the flat of his tongue drags itself over your slit. Your slick coats itself on his lips and chin as he sends a rush of pleasure through your veins.

Eddie, the Freak Munson, should be renamed to Eddie the Munch for the irresistible way he’s eating you out. His hands push your inner thighs wider so he has more of you to consume. Your exposed pussy calls to him as he eats you like he’s enjoying it more than you are. He wants you to cum all over his mouth.

Eddie lifts his head and replaces his mouth with his fingers as he pushes up inside of your pussy while massaging your clit with his thumb.

“I know you’re close, baby; give it to me. I need to know how you taste coming on my tongue.”

His dirty words had your head spinning and your core tightening. He was right; you were so close, you wanted- no, you needed to come.

“Please, please, please,” you begged for him to let you have the wave of pleasure wash over your body.

Eddie had you right where he needed you, in the sweet spot of being so desperate that you’d agree to anything he asked. He loved being in control this way; he loved wanting to feel powerful but also loved how much you trusted him to do so.

But what Eddie loved most of all was how you were about to cum all over his face; he loves pussy so much he can’t get enough of it, so he dips back down and has you cumming on his tongue as he pushed it up into your hole and didn’t let up as his thumb rubbed on your clit.

He doesn’t let up until you’ve come twice before wanting to get to the best part.

“Did so good baby, you taste so good. I know you got one more in you for me.”

You can’t even speak; the way he just made you come so quickly, one after another, was mind-blowing.

“Want to teach me why they call you Bunnie?” Eddie mocks as he pulls you up to switch positions.

How were you to ride him after all that?

“Fuck Eddie, I don’t know if I can; my legs are like jello,” you giggle.

“I believe in you, baby,” he creases your ass as you align yourself over his cock.

“Wait, do you have a condom?” He stops you.

“I’m on birth control” You slowly rub your pussy over his shaft, teasing the head at your entrance, threatening to put it in.

“Shiiiiiit” Eddie’s head goes back. “You want to be my little Bunny? Hop on it raw?”

“Mmmmmmm, yes,” you hum as your hips rock back and forth.

“Fuck okay, okay.” And before the second okay is out of Eddie’s mouth, you’re already sinking on his cock. It feels so good that he stretches you until your hips are connected to the bottom.

The only thing filling the room was the sounds of skin slapping skin and the moans coming from each of your mouths. His hands roam your body, exploring the swell of your breasts, your nipples, down around your hips, your back and your ass giving it a tight squeeze.

“Fuck, that’s it. You’re such a good Bunny, bouncing and taking my cock so well.”

“So big.” Your legs were already burning as you worked yourself up and down on his body.

“You going to cum like that, huh?” His hips match your rhythm, and you work together to create the perfect pace.

“That’s my girl, that’s my girl, that’s my girl,” he chants like a prayer as your pussy clenches down on Eddie’s cock, making that your third orgasm of the evening. Your body shutters as your orgasm takes over you, the icing on the cake of the day you’ve had today.

“I’m close. Where do you want it.”

“In me, cum in me, please.”

“Fuck, you sure?”

“Yes!” You had stopped bouncing me, but Edie had you held in place as he fucked his hips up into you.

You can feel his balls slapping your ass and his cock twitching so deeply inside you that tiny ripples of post-orgasm spasms are still running through you.

With a grunt, Eddie collapses, and you fall on top of him. Your hot bodies pressed together, chests heaving, breathing in one another.

“Hey, you wanna stay?” You tentatively as as you curl up next to him.

“Sure baby, I can spend the night”

“No no-well yea, but no…I mean here in California… you can join the band” you bite your lip.

“You-you want me to join your band?”

You nod your head slowly.

“Woah…”

“I know it’s crazy! But you’re so good, and you love it. It wouldn't be exactly what you want, but it also puts your foot in the door, and I kind of don’t want you to leave.” You blab.

“All I heard was you don’t want me to leave, Eddie teases.

“I’m serious,” you playfully swat his chest.

“I’m going to have to call my boss in the morning,” he smirked.

“Really?”

“Id have gone an idot to pass up an opportunity like this sweetheart.

Tagging some mooties @xxbimbobunnyxx @eddiesghxst @munson-blurbs @maisieisaloserr @ghost-proofbaby @littlexdeaths @take-everything-you-can @andvys @userchai @loserboysandlithium @floredaqueen @sexmetaleddie @strangerstilinski @myherometalhead

#Eddie Munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson request #eddie munson fan fic #Eddie Munson fluff #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson x oc

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1-imaginary-girl · 1 year ago

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Wolf Bite

Klaus Mikaelson x Reader

Summary: During a fight between your friends and Klaus and his hybrids, you get bit. A certain someone appears later to help heal your wounds and complicate your feelings. Reader uses she/her pronouns.

Warnings: Violence, fluff

Word Count: 4850

Part 2

A/N: I have been obsessing over Klaus lately and thought I would share this passion with you guys. I haven’t seen TVD or TO in a while so I apologize if I get anything wrong about the lore. It doesn’t follow any canon plot, just inspired by Klaus healing Caroline’s bite.

You’re leaning against a wall in the Salvatore brothers’ house as the rest of your friends talk about their newest plan to threaten Klaus and his family. The idea seems foolish to you, but you know better than to voice your opinion. Ever since the Mikaelson clan moved to town, being a vampire has gotten a lot more complicated. You’re suddenly not so immortal when there’s a whole group of people out to get you and your friends.

You’ve also started to notice a shift in the group as Elena now has feelings for both Salvatores. You’re well aware that your presence has slowly started to go unnoticed and yet here you are again. You watch as the group argues about how to lure Klaus and co. to the woods where you’ll meet him.

“What if we send someone to his house to deliver the message?” Elena suggests. But Stefan shakes his head.

“No, it’s too risky,” he says.

“Not if we send someone with a white oak stake for protection,” Caroline says.

“That would ruin the plan,” Bonnie says. There’s a silence as the group thinks of a new idea. Until Damon speaks.

“What if we get Y/N to call him?” Damon says, looking at you for the first time today. Your eyes widen as the rest of the group now looks at you. As if they weren’t just ignoring you.

“What? N-no way,” you say, not prepared to be put on the spot.

“Come on, he’s clearly shown an interest in you. Now’s the time to use that,” he argues. It’s true. Ever since you first met, Klaus seems to have taken a liking to you. But you think the group’s making it a bigger deal than it is. You think he just does it as a way to annoy the group. Though why he chose you instead of someone like Caroline or Bonnie, you’ll never know.

“I don’t want to do that,” you say, not wanting to explain exactly why. You’re not even quite sure yourself. “Besides, it probably won’t work. I mean, I don’t even have his phone number.”

“Oh right,” Damon says, furrowing his eyebrows as you throw a retch in his plan.

“You could deliver the message in person,” Caroline suggests. Your jaw almost drops.

“Wait, so it’s too risky if someone else goes to the house, but not me?”

“Come on, he won’t hurt you,” Damon says. You’re beginning to think being a wallflower was the better option.

“We all have to help, Y/N,” Elena says. You choke on your words as you look around, seeing no one objecting to this plan.

“Wait, you guys my message spell!” Bonnie exclaims. Everyone turns to her and you are relieved to be out of the spotlight as you lean back against the wall. “I need paper, something to write with, and something of Klaus’s.”

Though you are currently mad at all of them, you decide you’re mad at Bonnie the least so you open your bag. You’re able to scrounge up the materials, even something of Klaus’s (you didn’t ask). With the necessary ingredients, Bonnie performs her spell and the written note lights on fire before quickly disintegrating. She opens her eyes.

“That should do it,” she says.

“We should go,” Elena says and everyone agrees.

†††

The group is waiting in the woods for Klaus to appear, as is expressed in the letter. Another argument broke out on the way here as to who will get the white oak stake as you only brought one to threaten Klaus with. The group didn’t want to risk any of the other stakes. In the end, Damon won the argument as he reminded Stefan his responsibility was to look out for Elena, which she did not like. The rest of you are armed with regular stakes just in case anything happens.

“When is he going to get here?” Caroline says, though no one answers as no one knows. “I mean, how can he even find us? We’re in the middle of the woods!”

“He can probably track us by seeking out Elena’s blood,” Damon says which angers Elena. Sometimes you feel bad for her being the only human amongst the group (other than Matt), and other times you envy her for it.

When the group is about ready to give up, you hear something coming. The other vampires can hear it too and you ready yourselves. Soon enough, Klaus stands before you with a smile on his face. “Well, well, isn’t this a nice surprise? I hadn’t realized we were pen pals,” the Original says. His eyes rake over the group and he perks up when he spots you. “Hello love.”

The others glance at you and, panicked to be on the spot again, you say, “Uh, hi,” with a small and awkward wave.

This causes Klaus’ smile to grow wider and seemingly more genuine, and you try to suppress the urge to blush. Although you don’t think your friends were pleased by that interaction.

“I assume you know why you’re here,” Stefan says, bringing Klaus’ attention back to the group.

“Ah yes, the cryptic message,” Klaus says. “So, what is it that I must see? Truly, I’m dying to know.” You see Damon smirk.

“I wouldn’t act so cocky,” he says.

“Oh, and why’s that?” Klaus says with an entertained look on his face. His face changes, however, when Damon reveals the white oak stake. His cocky attitude shifts quickly to fear and anger. “Where did you get that?” he growls.

“Well it turns out when your sister burned down that bridge, she didn’t realize that other things were made from your precious oak tree,” Damon taunts. He’s exaggerating, of course, as there was only one other thing made from the tree. But Klaus still looks fearful.

“So what? You really think you can kill me with one stake?”

“We don’t intend to kill you. At least not now anyway,” Caroline says.

“We called you here as a threat. To tell you to leave Mystic Falls or else,” Stefan says with a calm smile on his face.

“Oh, and this isn’t the only stake. We wouldn’t risk bringing all of them with us just for you to break them,” Elena says.

“You’re bluffing,” Klaus sneers.

“Care to find out?” Damon asks. You can practically feel the steam of anger rolling off Klaus.

“How dare you threaten me,” Klaus says, his blue-green eyes turning a deadly shade of yellow.

“What are you going to do about it?” Damon says with a taunting smirk. Klaus’ face shifts and he smirks back.

“Why I’m so glad you asked,” he says. He then lets out a whistle and some of his hybrids emerge from the woods. You widen your gaze as you hold out your weapon, trying to assess the situation. The hybrids move in closer, and you can see the others preparing themselves. “Now, let’s try this again. Hand over the stake, and no one gets hurt.”

You thought the answer would be obvious. Sure, Klaus might be bluffing but you can’t kill that many hybrids. And what’s one lost stake anyway? However, you seemed to be the only one thinking that.

“No thanks,” Damon says. You look at him incredulously.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Klaus says. As soon as Klaus advances, his hybrids pounce and the group is thrown into an attack. Your weapons will only slow the hybrids down, but your best hope is to get the upper hand and snap their necks to incapacitate them.

Damon and Klaus immediately face off. The rest of you prepare to face the small army of hybrids while Stefan protects Elena. One of the hybrids locks onto you and hisses before attacking you. You instantly try to hold the hybrid off and stab her, but you can feel her overpowering you in strength.

Still, you rely on your moves in combat to avoid any major injuries or worse, her bite. You manage to get the upper hand and stab her through the stomach, and while she’s slowed down, you move to behind her back and snap her neck, knocking her out for a good while.

You’re trying to catch your breath when you sense another hybrid coming at you too late. He pounces on you and you slam into the ground with him on top of you. You’re caught off guard and without your stake. When you try to move to fight back, the hybrid digs his teeth into your shoulder. A short scream rips through you, powered both by panic and pain.

Meanwhile, Klaus is fighting Damon when he hears the scream. He looks your way as he feared it was you, and the scene causes his eyes to widen. With a newfound urgency, Klaus faces Damon and quickly finds a way to snap his neck.

As you’re panicking from the bite, you feel the hybrid being pulled off of you and you see Klaus with a furious expression. The hybrid is very confused by his sire’s anger. You think you hear Klaus growl, “Not her,” before snapping their neck.

You’re shocked at what just happened all at once and remain on the ground, sitting up with wide eyes looking at Klaus. He looks away from the hybrid to meet your gaze and his eyes instantly soften. He looks concerned, though you’re not sure why. He makes a move to walk toward you but before you can say anything, Caroline rushes over to you.

She quickly puts herself between Klaus and you. “Stay away from her,” she hisses at him. Klaus’ expression shifts back to anger, and before you can explain to Caroline what’s going on, Klaus’s gaze flick from her to you and then he sprints away. Not just away from you, but he leaves the forest. The hybrids that haven’t been incapacitated follow.

You look after him, longing to talk to him and figure out why he saved you, when Caroline’s face comes into view. “Are you okay?” she asks while helping to pull you off the ground. You nod and you guess that’s enough for her because she walks towards the rest of the group.

You’re a bit stunned as Klaus seemed to show more compassion than your friend, but you merely shake off the exchange. From the woods, the group heads back to the Salvatore’s place. You trail behind them, your mind racing as you’re overly aware of the fact that a werewolf bit you. Not just a werewolf, but a hybrid. You haven’t told your friends about it because you don’t want to be a bother to them as that’s all you feel like you are these days.

On the way back, your mind wanders to the one person that seems to be on everyone’s minds these days. Klaus. You don’t know why he saved you, even from his own hybrid, but you want to thank him. You know you should hate him like the others do but for some reason every time that man looks at you, your stomach erupts into butterflies.

You feel awful for how you feel, you know all the harm he’s caused to your friends and not to mention the world, but you can’t help it. It doesn’t help that he pretends to be soft on you either. You haven’t told anyone about your feelings, whatever they are, for fear of persecution but you can’t stop thinking about him.

You arrive at the Salvatore’s and the group huddles in the living room for a quick debriefing of what just went down. All the while images of Klaus and your bite flash through your mind. You look at your shoulder and you can’t see the full damage as it’s covered by your shirt but you know it’s not good.

“How are you holding up, Damon?” Caroline asks teasingly. He glares at her and rolls his neck.

“Doing just great thanks,” he says.

“What the hell even happened?” Elena asks. “I mean, why did they just leave?”

“All I know is, one minute I’m holding my own against Klaus--” Damon says and to this you hold back rolling your eyes. Klaus must’ve been going easy on him, toying with him. “--and then he gets this raged look on his face and boom, lights out.”

“He went to Y/N,” Caroline says causing all of their eyes to stare at you again. You bite back your annoyance at her for bringing that on you.

“What happened?” Stefan asks while the rest of the group waits. The image of Klaus looking at you causes your face to heat up and you struggle to come up with a lie. You don’t want to tell them the truth when you yourself haven’t even gotten to the bottom of it.

“I-I don’t know,” you say. They still stare at you. “Maybe he was mad at me for harming his hybrids.”

“There were two knocked-out hybrids beside her,” Caroline adds. The group looks at you with a mix of shock and amazement.

“You knocked out two of them?” Damon asks with surprise and slight amusement. You don’t want to outwardly lie so you just kind of nod.

“And then he just left,” you say.

“It still doesn’t make sense. I mean, why target you specifically?” Bonnie asks.

“Maybe he’s miffed his lover betrayed him,” Damon says and your face turns beat red.

“W-What?! I am not his—” you burst out in surprise until someone cuts you off. No one even looks your way.

“Or maybe he’s planning something,” Elena suggests. The rest of them start diving into conspiracies but your mind is elsewhere. You suddenly feel drawn to look at your bite. The more you look at it, the more it’s like you can feel the venom pumping through your veins. Your heartbeat is suddenly too loud and you feel like you can’t breathe.

You don’t know if it has something to do with the venom or just your overall panic, but all of a sudden, the world goes black.

†††

Your eyes slowly open and your vision is blurry at first. Figures stand over you and after blinking a few times, you recognize your friends.

“She’s awake,” Elena says, as if everyone isn’t seeing it for themselves. You realize you’re lying on the Salvatore’s couch. You wonder how long you blacked out for.

“What the hell Y/N?!” Caroline instantly yells at you. You flinch at her volume but she doesn’t seem to notice. “Why didn’t you tell us you got bit?”

At the reminder, you look back at the bite only to see that its gotten worse. You wince at the sight of it and face the group. You guess they discovered it when you passed out.

“I don’t know, I-I thought I could handle it,” you say, not wanting to admit the real reason. Most of them roll their eyes at you.

“Of course you couldn’t handle it!” Damon says. “You should have told us.”

I didn’t know you cared. You bite your tongue to keep the words from spilling out of your mouth. “I’m sorry,” you say, losing interest in the conversation as you are now painfully aware of the venom from the bite.

“What are we going to do?” Bonnie asks. They begin to cut you out of the conversation even though they’re talking about you and you decide you can’t deal with this right now. You stand up from the couch, feeling a bit of a head rush before steadying yourself. This seems to draw their attention.

“Hey wait, where are you going?” Stefan asks, as they all look at you with bewildered expressions.

“I’m going home,” you say and start to walk away. Unfortunately, they follow.

“You can’t just go home!” Caroline exclaims, reacting as if you just said you were going to the moon.

“Watch me,” you say, your frustration getting the better of you. You try to make your way towards the door but a few steps in you stumble and Stefan speeds over to steady you.

“Okay, we’ll take you home, alright?” he says and in that moment, you’re grateful for him. He turns to the rest of the group. “We can regroup at her place and brainstorm ideas there while keeping an eye on her.” The rest of the group seems to agree with the idea. In separate cars, the group drives over to your house.

Soon you’re pulling into your driveway. They’ve all been invited in before so entering isn’t a problem. With Stefan’s help, you climb the stairs and soon find yourself in your cozy bed. You wish you could just sleep away this problem but a sudden sharp pain from the wound reminds you that isn’t possible.

“So what now?” Elena asks as the group piles into your bedroom. It feels weird and you’re slightly uncomfortable with it but you keep quiet and just get under your inviting covers.

“Maybe we can ask Klaus for help?” Bonnie suggests. At this, Damon instantly scoffs.

“Yeah that sounds like him,” Damon says.

“Maybe he’ll do it for Y/N,” Caroline says. “He does have a soft spot for her.”

“I don’t know if that’s enough for him,” Stefan interjects. “We all know what he’s after.”

“No,” Damon says. “We finally have a real weapon against those Original assholes and I’m not just going to throw it all away for—”

“Damon,” Elena hisses and nudges him in the chest before nodding over to you. Once more, all eyes are on you and you don’t know what to do. Damon looks away, maybe feeling guilty for basically saying you’re not worth it.

“Why don’t we continue this conversation downstairs?” Caroline suggests. You once again wonder why they’re talking about this situation without you but you’re too tired and hurt to care.

“We’ll be downstairs if you need anything,” Bonnie says and then the group filters out closing the door behind them.

Throughout the day a few of them check in on you every once and a while, barely giving you updates on if they’re going to find a cure. As your pain grows and the sky darkens, you start to think that maybe this is it. Maybe this is how you die. You never imagined it happening like this and your chest caves in at the thought of a final death but it’s looking more and more likely.

You’re not sure what time it is, but later in the night you hear a faint knock which sounds like it’s coming from your front door. You ignore it, not having the strength to answer it. You figure one of your friends will answer it. If they’re even home.

The knock sounds again, louder and more persistent, and you start to suspect that your friends have left. You take a deep breath as fear coils around your throat, constricting your breath. Your friends aren’t here and you’re going to die all alone before you even got to live. The knocking stops and you settle back into the silence.

Then a sound comes from your window. It sounds like…knocking? From your bed, you can’t see the outside since it’s too dark out. You wish your friends were here. Slowly, you climb out of bed and try to rally your strength in case you have to fight something or someone. As you walk over your confusion only grows.

There, perched on a branch from the tree outside your window, is Klaus Mikaelson. He gives you a wave and you hesitantly wave back. You approach the window cautiously before opening it.

“Um, can I help you?” you ask, trying to understand what you’re seeing. Hallucinations are a side effect of wolf venom, right?

“Well hello to you too, love,” he says with a cheeky smile on his face. His eyes roam over your body and his smile falters. You suddenly become aware that this is the closest you’ve ever been to the Original. You try not to let your cheeks flush.

“What are you doing here?” His smile drops entirely, noticing your serious demeanour.

“I’m here to help. Now if you could just let me in—”

“Help with what?” His face becomes grim as his eyes trail over to your shoulder. It’s now out in the open as you’ve changed into pajamas. You then remember that he must’ve seen the bite when it happened.

“Your wound, love.”

“Why…why would you want to help me with that?” you ask. Then a thought occurs. “Wait, have my friends spoken to you?”

His eyebrows furrow as he shakes his head. “No, I haven’t heard from them,” he says and though you can’t say you didn’t expect it, your heart drops at hearing it. “Wait, do they know about this?”

“Um yeah.”

He looks angry as he asks, “And where are they now?”

You look at the floor and try to keep your embarrassment inside. “I don’t know, I thought they would’ve contacted you.”

“Apparently not.” His face is still twisted in anger although you’re not quite sure why. Then he looks at you and seems to remember why he’s here. “So, can you let me in?”

The thought of having Klaus Mikaelson in your room makes your heart beat faster. And though you want to give in, to continue living your immortal life, you hesitate. “Why should I trust you?”

“What?”

“How do I know if I let you in now, it won’t come back to bite me in the ass?” you ask, your arms crossed.

Klaus doesn’t seem to understand your concern. “Love, you realize that’s a hybrid bite. I don’t think you have the time for this.”

“So you admit that you would use it later?”

His face scrunches up. “That’s not—no I wouldn’t do that—just please let me in,” he says, giving you a sincere look that threatens to break down your walls. Just as you’re about to question him more, a wave of pain washes over your body. You let out a groan as you slightly stumble back. “Y/N?” The pain grows more intense and you let out a whimper before you collapse onto your knees. “Y/N!” It’s as if your body is at war with itself and you can feel every impact of it.

“You have to let me in, just say the words and I can help you. Please!” You hear Klaus say from the window. But it’s hard to find words when the pain is so intense. You want it to stop. “Y/N!” You hear him bang his fist against the walls of your house.

You slowly lift your head up to see his worried face, desperately waiting for you to let him in. You no longer care if this will come back to haunt you. You take a few deep breaths before you say, “Come in.”

As soon as the words take effect, Klaus rushes into the house and scoops you into his arms. You clutch at his chest, not thinking of anything but the pain. He carries you over to the bed and gently places you down before quickly running over to the window to close it. The pain seems to be dwindling down but you know it’ll be back. Your whole body is so weak, you used the last of your strength to walk over and talk to Klaus.

Speaking of, he’s quickly back at your bedside, eyes furiously scanning you for signs of physical distress. Then his eyes lock on yours and you feel your breath hitch. “You have to drink my blood,” he says quietly to you.

You know that that’s the cure and that it will save you, but you’re still hesitant. This is Klaus you’re talking about. The big bad hybrid who’s been attacking your friends and causing chaos for weeks now. And yet for some reason, a part of you wants to trust him. A part of you wants to give in to the idea that he could be good. But how can you trust him when you can’t even trust your own instincts?

He must sense your hesitation, because he leans down to look into your eyes. When you look at him, you’re stuck by how truly beautiful he is. His eyes are a beautiful blue, but more than that, they hold a look of sincerity in them. “I know you don’t trust me, I wouldn’t either,” he says. “But this is what’s going to save you. So please, take a chance. What have you got to lose?”

He does have a point.

“I don’t want to die,” you admit in a small voice. Your breath stutters as you let the fear bubbling inside of you rise to the surface. Klaus’s look is sympathetic.

“I don’t want that either,” he whispers. Your eyes meet and you feel caught in them. “Let me help you.”

Maybe it’s because this is a different, more sincere side of Klaus that you’ve never seen before. Maybe it’s because your friends are gone and you’re feeling vulnerable. Maybe it’s because your instincts seem to have aligned. Either way, you nod your head.

He offers you a small smile. He then sits on the bed and gently shifts you so that you’re leaning against his chest. You’re too weak to move yourself. Klaus rolls up his sleeve and bites down on his wrist before bringing it close to your lips. You’re tempted but look at him to make sure it’s okay first. He nods and you sink your teeth into his wrist.

At first, you feel weird about the situation. But then you lean into it and begin to enjoy it. Klaus whispers encouragingly in your ear as his blood enters your body. You can feel your strength begin to return and the fog in your brain clear. You almost don’t want to stop, and the way Klaus is petting your hair doesn’t help. But eventually, you know you’ve had enough, so you pull away.

“Wasn’t so bad, eh?” Klaus says and you look up to see him smiling down at you. “Are you going to be okay?”

“I think so.”

“Then I guess my work here is done.” He moves you so you’re lying back on your bed, but when he moves to leave, you grab his arm. He looks back, confused.

“Why did you do that?” When his confusion doesn’t clear, you clarify. “Why did you help me?”

He looks down at the floor and his lip twitches into a smile. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, love, but I quite fancy you. Wouldn’t want you dying on me before I’ve had a chance to win you over.”

His words shock you enough to let go of his arm. The strangest part is that he looks sincere about it. “But…you actually like me? Like, that wasn’t all an act?” you ask. Both of you seem to be confused by the other.

“Why would I do that?” You start to feel embarrassed.

“To—to get on the group’s nerves? To throw us off?”

“Is it so hard to believe that I might just like you?” To be honest, the thought hadn’t occurred to you. Trickery made more sense.

“Yes,” you say and then wish you didn’t. “I—I mean, why me? Why not Caroline or Bonnie?”

“Besides the fact that you’re the most gorgeous creature I’ve ever laid eyes on?” he asks and you’re suddenly glad it’s dark because your cheeks are on fire right now. “Because you’re different.” That doesn’t make you feel so great. He must have picked up on that because he catches your eye and says, “Because you’re better.” The idea makes you flustered, that anyone would think you’re better than them, let alone a powerful hybrid like Klaus.

“I still don’t understand.”

“Hmm.” He seems to think on what to say before smirking. “Then I guess I’ll have to do a better job at showing you.” When he winks at you, you think your face might be on fire from how hot it is. Once again, he turns to leave.

“Thank you,” you call out which makes him stop in his tracks. He turns around to face you and seems confused by your words. But you mean them. He didn’t have to save you, you gave him nothing in return, and yet he did.

He smiles and you think it’s much better than the fake ones he gives to the group. “Of course love,” he says. “Couldn’t have my favourite vampire dying on me.” You give him a smile back, genuinely happy to hear someone say that to you.

Then your eyelids begin to feel heavy and you have to blink rapidly to stay awake. Klaus sees this and says, “Goodnight, my love,” before opening your bedroom window.

“Goodnight,” you say back as you watch the window close. You lay back down on your bed, thankful to no longer be dying. You guess you have your new saviour to thank for that. As you close your eyes, you can’t help but see Klaus in a different light. Not as a villain, but as a complicated man. You don’t think your friends are going to like your change of heart, so for now you’ll keep it to yourself. You’ll be content in knowing that maybe the big bad hybrid isn’t so bad after all.

#klaus x reader #klaus x you #klaus x y/n #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson x you #klaus mikaelson x y/n #klaus mikaelson #klaus mikaelson fanfiction #tvd #tvd fanfiction #the vampire diaries fanfiction #tvd klaus #the originals #the originals fanfiction

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bloodibambiidoll · 4 months ago

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Beautifully Broken (Eric Draven x Reader)

Ever since you arrived to the rehab facility you were sent to, you can’t keep your eyes off of him… 900wk, Unprotected sex, choking, dirty talk 18+MDNI Part 2

A/N: I just saw this movie an hour ago and I am absolutely possessed. Bill skårsgard is the love of my life and this just did something to my brain. You’ll probably be seeing more of him…

Ever since you arrived here there’s only been one thing on your mind, one thing keeping you going and it was him. He was so beautifully broken that you were immediately taken by him, even if you’ve never spoken to him. But you watched. You watch the way he almost always chooses silence over speaking. He never shared at circle or sat with anyone during meal time. You watched his defiance to the guards and doctors. The way he rebelled against them with a stone expression and a locked jaw, still not saying a word. You watched the way he would draw, scribbling away in his sketchbook like it was the only thing in the world to him. The way his large tattooed hands would grip onto the charcoal pencils made your thighs clench and his face was so beautiful it made your heart ache.

His sea green eyes always held a look of determination, his plush pink lips were always slightly downturned and it made you want to know what he looked like when he smiled. His jet black mullet was always slightly messy and the pink sweatsuit sat taunt against his large frame, you’re surprised they even had a size long enough to accommodate his height. He was an irresistible mystery that you wanted to pick apart and piece back together with pieces of your own broken soul. So you couldn’t watch anymore, you couldn’t wander, you had to know. You square your shoulders and march forward with purposeful steps before plopping yourself down at the table next to him.

“Hi.” You give him a soft smile and tell him your name and he just stares at you, those striking eyes roaming your face intently. That ever neutral expression gave nothing away. His eyes lock with yours and you stare at each other like you’re trying to search each other’s minds. After a moment he releases you from his hypnotizing gaze to glance around the room before looking back at you.

“They don’t really like opposite genders sitting with each other.” He rests his hands on the table, tapping the metal of his rings against the cheap glazed wood.

“Yeah? Well I don’t really give a shit.” You tilt your head to the side, your eyes sparkling with mischief and your lips turned up in the most beautifully sinister smirk he’s ever seen.

“I’m Eric.” His corner of his lips raises slightly and it makes your stomach erupt with butterflies. You can’t help but wonder what his laugh sounds like.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Eric.”

“Shhh, baby, you gotta be quiet for me.” Eric’s inked hand comes up to cover your mouth as he pounds into you deep and rough from behind. He has you pressed up against the wall in the back of the laundry room with your pink sweatpants pooled at your feet. Your back is arched as far as it can go, your hips meeting his own with each brutal thrust. His free hand is shoved up your sweatshirt, groping your braless tits and playing with your sensitive nipples. Eric leans down to place sloppy kisses on your neck and it has your pussy clenching around him. “Are you gonna cum for me?”

“Mhm!” You moan into his palm, your drool starting to drip down his wrist. Eric moves his hand from your mouth so he can grip onto your throat instead and it has your eyes rolling back.

“I want to hear you say my name when you fall apart on my cock.” His voice is like honey when his lips ghost against your skin, his breath sending shivers down your spine. “Touch yourself for me.”

“Fuck, oh my god, I’m so close.” You bring your hand between your legs and find your slick clit, the feeling of your fingertips against your sensitive bud sending you over the edge. “Fuck, Eric! I’m coming, I’m fucking coming.”

“Yeah, that’s my girl, fucking cum for me.” His grip on your throat tightens as he fucks into you mercilessly, chasing his own high. “I’m going to fill you up so deep it won’t be leaking out until we are in the yard for gym hour and you start doing jumping jacks.”

“Oh, fuuuuck. That’s- that’s so fucking hot, please please, give it to me. Give me your cum, Eric.” You reach behind you to yank on the hair at the nape of his neck and it has his hips stilling against yours while he spills inside of you.

“Fuck, that’s my good fucking girl.” Eric growls in your ear as his cock continues to twitch inside you, filling you to the brim just like he promised. He pulls out gently, holding onto you with one arm so your legs don’t give out. He runs his fingers along your inner thighs and over your sensitive pussy, gathering the cum that leaked out before pushing it back in. “Wouldn’t want any to go to waste.”

He leans down and pulls up your pants and your panties before flipping you around so your back is against the wall. Eric chuckles before smiling down at you sweetly, those beautiful green eyes twinkling with adoration and it’s everything you could’ve ever dreamed. He’s so beautifully broken, and entirely yours.

Divider is by @thecutestgrotto

#the crow 2024 #the crow #the crow 2024 fanfiction #Eric Draven #eric draven x reader #Eric Draven smut #Eric Draven fanfiction #Eric Draven blurb #bill skarsgard #bill skarsgård #bill skarsgard fanfiction #bill skarsgard x reader #bill skarsgard smut #bill skarsgard imagine #Dolly writes

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novaursa · 4 months ago

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A Dragon's Claim

- Summary: Daemon returns from his exile during the celebrations of Rhaenyra’s and Leanor’s wedding, with only one thing in mind: to claim you.

- Paring: niece!reader/Daemon Targaryen

- Note: reader is referred to as Y/N, is younger sister of Rhaenyra and is bonded with Grey Ghost. These events happen before and lead to The Blood of the Dragon. The list of all my works in chronological order is on my blog, pinned to the top.

- Rating: Mature 16+ (there is no adult content in this one)

- Word count: 4 538

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff

The air in the great hall is thick with tension and mirth as lords and ladies gather beneath the towering pillars of the Red Keep. The glow of a thousand candles casts a golden hue over the faces of the realm’s most powerful, yet the flickering light cannot reach the shadows where whispers thrive.

You sit at the high table, a smile frozen on your lips as you watch Rhaenyra and Laenor share a dance, their steps polished but strained. Your elder sister’s gown is woven with gold and red thread, a stark contrast to Laenor’s pale silks. The match is political, a necessity, and everyone knows it. But the feast continues on, with music and wine flowing freely to disguise the uneasy undercurrents.

Your father, King Viserys, is content for now, raising his cup with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. You know how deeply he misses your mother, and how hard he’s tried to keep the family together since her death. Beside him, Queen Alicent's gaze flickers between you and your siblings, always watchful, as if measuring the distance between you all.

Yet the evening shifts suddenly when a presence enters the hall, one that sends a murmur rippling through the gathered guests. Heads turn, voices hush. You feel the change in the air before you even see him.

Daemon.

Your Uncle strides in as if the years and the disgrace of his exile mean nothing. His long silver hair is swept back, and his black leather doublet clings to him like shadow. The greenish glow of dragon glass at his throat only sharpens the edges of his smile. He's dressed in dark finery, as if mourning—and you recall, with a bitter twist in your gut, that Lady Rhea Royce has just died. A hunting accident, they say. But few believe it was an accident at all.

Your breath catches as his violet eyes sweep across the hall before landing on you. There's a dangerous glint there, something raw and unsettling, something that reminds you why you’ve kept him at arm’s length all these years. You feel it like a caress, lingering too long, too close.

He moves with purpose, winding through the throng of courtiers until he’s at your side. Your fingers tighten around your goblet as he dips into an elegant bow, just deep enough to mock propriety. The room buzzes with speculation, but Daemon pays it no mind. His attention is wholly on you.

"Little Niece," he purrs, voice smooth as silk, yet laced with something darker. "It’s been too long."

You tilt your head, eyes narrowing as you regard him. "Not long enough," you reply, keeping your tone cool, distant.

He laughs—a low, rich sound that curls in your stomach, unsettling in its familiarity. "Such sharp words. You wound me, Y/N."

You resist the urge to roll your eyes, instead taking a sip from your cup. "What do you want, Uncle? Surely you did not come all this way just to attend a wedding."

"Why would I not?" He shifts closer, the scent of leather, smoke, and something distinctly Daemon filling the air around you. "After all, it’s a family affair. And I’ve missed our little talks."

You can feel the heat of his gaze, the way it lingers on your face before dipping lower, as if taking you in inch by inch. It’s almost predatory. You’ve seen how other women melt under that stare, but it’s never had that effect on you. If anything, it’s only ever put you on edge.

"Missed?" you echo with a scoff. "You were banished, or did you forget?"

Daemon’s smile doesn’t falter, but it sharpens. "Exile is a state of mind, Niece. It changes nothing of who I am—or what I want."

Your jaw tightens. He’s always been this way—playing at power, testing limits. When you were younger, you found it thrilling, the way he flirted with danger, the way he seemed to live without consequence. But now, all you see is a man who’s always hungered for more than what is his.

"And what is it that you want now, Daemon?" you ask, holding his gaze. You don’t flinch, even when his smile widens.

His voice drops, low and intimate, a whisper meant for your ears alone. "The same thing I’ve always wanted. You."

The words are a knife, sharp and precise. They cut through the haze of laughter and music that surrounds you. You know what he’s asking, what he’s offering—and you also know you’d be a fool to accept.

You set down your goblet with deliberate care, your expression hardening. "You’re wasting your time. Whatever game you’re playing, find another piece for it."

His amusement doesn’t fade, but there’s a flicker of something else in his eyes—something darker, more frustrated. For a moment, the mask slips, and you see the hunger beneath, the yearning he’s kept at bay since you last rejected him.

"You think you’re above this, above me," he murmurs, his voice laced with challenge. "But we’re more alike than you care to admit, Y/N. Fire runs in our veins, and it will burn until we claim what’s ours."

You feel a shiver crawl up your spine, but you refuse to let it show. "Perhaps," you say coolly, standing from your seat and stepping back, putting distance between you. "But that fire will not consume me. Not for you. Not ever."

His gaze follows you as you move away, back into the crowd where the music drowns out the tension of your exchange. You feel his eyes on you, a burning brand that lingers even when you force yourself to focus on the dancing couples and the revelry. But Daemon Targaryen is not so easily dismissed.

You know this won’t be the last time he tries. He’s always been relentless in his pursuits. But you’ve held him off before—and you’ll do it again, no matter how many times he attempts to draw you into his web.

Yet in the depths of your mind, a small voice wonders how long you can keep resisting before the fire spreads.

The hall is alive with music and movement, swirling skirts and polished boots creating a dance of color and grace. You find yourself swept into the rhythm, partnered with Lord Tyland Lannister—a golden lion of the Westerlands, resplendent in his crimson and gold. He’s handsome enough, with a confident smile and courteous manners, but he lacks the edge of danger that seems to follow Targaryens like a shadow.

Still, you laugh politely as he makes some jest about the boisterous nature of the court. Tyland is careful, measured in his charm, his hand respectfully placed at your waist as you twirl together across the floor. Yet your mind is only half on the conversation, aware that a pair of intense violet eyes is tracking your every move.

Daemon watches from where he leans against a pillar, his posture deceptively relaxed. He appears disinterested to those who don’t know him well, one hand holding a goblet of wine, the other idly tapping against his leg. But beneath that mask of ease is a tightly coiled tension, a hungry beast waiting for the right moment to strike. His gaze is riveted to you, sharp and possessive, a wolf studying its prey from afar.

Beside him, King Viserys attempts to draw his brother into conversation, oblivious to Daemon’s distraction.

“It’s good to see you back, brother,” Viserys begins, his tone amiable as he turns to face Daemon. “We’ve missed you here. It’s been far too long since the family was whole.”

Daemon barely acknowledges the words, his focus entirely elsewhere. His eyes flick over the way you laugh at something Tyland says, the way your lips curve in amusement. A flicker of annoyance passes through him, a subtle tightening of his jaw. He’s always despised the Lannisters—their arrogance, their ambition, their sense of entitlement. And seeing you in Tyland’s arms only fuels the simmering irritation.

Viserys, oblivious to his brother’s dark thoughts, continues, raising his goblet to Daemon. “Rhaenyra is happy tonight, isn’t she? It’s a good match for her, one that will strengthen the realm. Laenor is—”

“A distraction,” Daemon mutters, cutting him off, his tone sharp enough to draw Viserys’ attention.

Viserys frowns, looking at him more closely. “What’s on your mind, Daemon? You’ve barely said a word since you arrived. If it’s about Rhea—”

Daemon lets out a dry chuckle, finally turning his gaze to Viserys, but it’s laced with disdain. “Rhea is long dead, brother. Her bones are cold and buried. Let us not pretend we mourn her now.”

Viserys shifts uncomfortably, clearly unsure of how to respond. “Still, it’s no easy thing to lose a wife, even one you didn’t—”

Daemon cuts him off again, this time with a flick of his hand. “Enough, Viserys. I didn’t come here to talk about the past.”

“What did you come here for, then?” Viserys asks, voice softening as he tries to reach out to his brother. “We can put things right between us. There’s no need for more distance. We’re family—”

Daemon’s gaze snaps back to you, watching as you spin gracefully in Tyland’s arms, your dress swirling around you like flames licking at the air. His lips curve into a faint, humorless smile. “Family…” he repeats, the word bitter on his tongue. “Yes, it’s always about family.”

He doesn’t bother hiding the way his eyes track your every movement. Viserys follows his line of sight, finally understanding where Daemon’s attention lies. He clears his throat, his expression hardening. “Y/N is not for you, Daemon. She’s my daughter, and I’ll not have her tangled in whatever schemes you’re plotting.”

Daemon’s smile widens, but there’s no warmth in it. “Schemes? You wound me, brother. I only have your daughter’s best interests at heart.”

“Do you?” Viserys’ voice takes on a warning edge. “You’ve already caused enough trouble tonight with your sudden appearance. If you truly care for her, you’ll leave her be.”

But Daemon doesn’t answer. His thoughts are locked elsewhere, watching how you move with such effortless grace, the way your eyes spark with life as you dance, seemingly carefree. He knows you’re aware of his presence, can sense it in the way you avoid looking in his direction, how you keep Tyland between you and the shadows where Daemon lurks. It’s a clever tactic—one that both frustrates and excites him.

“She’s stubborn,” he murmurs, almost to himself, as his eyes narrow. “But that’s what makes the chase worthwhile.”

Viserys stiffens, his grip tightening around his cup. “I’m warning you, Daemon. You’ll not drag her into your games. If you truly have any regard for her, you’ll stop this.”

Daemon turns to face his brother fully now, his expression unreadable, but his tone is laced with cold mockery. “And what if she doesn’t want your protection, Viserys? What if she wants something… else?”

“That’s enough.” The king’s voice is steel now, but it wavers slightly, betraying the deep undercurrent of worry. “I won’t allow it. You’ll stay away from her.”

Daemon holds his brother’s gaze for a long, tense moment before he breaks into a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Of course, brother. I live to serve.”

But as Viserys takes his words at face value and turns away, relief evident in his posture, Daemon’s eyes drift back to you. A storm brews within them, filled with unresolved hunger and an unyielding determination. He watches as you end the dance with a gracious curtsy, Lord Tyland offering a courtly bow in return, and his fingers curl tighter around his goblet.

You may think you’ve pushed him away, that you’ve built walls high enough to keep him out. But Daemon Targaryen has never been one to accept defeat—not when there’s something he desires as fiercely as he desires you.

No, the game is far from over. If anything, it’s only just begun. And as you catch his gaze from across the hall, your eyes locking for the briefest of moments before you look away, you feel it too—the inevitability of the fire that threatens to consume you both.

For now, you dance with Lannisters and play your part as the dutiful daughter. But Daemon’s patience, like all things about him, is dangerous. And sooner or later, he knows, you’ll find yourself face-to-face with the truth neither of you can deny—no matter how much you might try to resist it.

The music softens, allowing the hum of conversation to fill the hall. You’re surrounded by a cluster of courtiers, each eager to share a word or a compliment with the princess of the realm. They shower you with flowery flattery, and you respond with practiced grace, a polite smile that never quite reaches your eyes.

You’re keenly aware of Daemon lurking at the edge of your periphery, a shadow just waiting to slip into the light. He’s watching, waiting for an opening—and when your father becomes occupied by the arrival of Lord Beesbury, Daemon seizes his chance.

The courtiers around you stiffen as Daemon approaches, the atmosphere shifting subtly as they sense the tension that follows him. He cuts through the crowd with the grace of a dragon circling its prey, a dark smile curling on his lips as he stops just beside you. The air crackles with his presence, drawing every eye in the circle toward him.

“Y/N,” he says smoothly, his voice warm honey over cold steel. “I hope you’re not allowing these dullards to bore you.” There’s an undercurrent of possessiveness in the way he says your name, a familiar, disconcerting tone that sends a shiver down your spine.

You keep your expression composed, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of seeing any discomfort. The eyes of the court are upon you, watching for any reaction, any hint of scandal. You cannot afford to make a scene—not tonight, not at Rhaenyra’s wedding. So you take a slow breath and incline your head, allowing him to join the conversation if only to avoid drawing unwanted attention.

“Uncle,” you greet him, your tone carefully neutral. “I find the company quite agreeable, actually.”

A flicker of amusement dances in his eyes as he takes a step closer, deliberately brushing the edge of your skirts with his boot. “Do you? Well, perhaps it’s simply my own poor luck that I’ve yet to find anyone in this hall nearly as fascinating as you.”

The compliment is a blade, sharp and glittering with intent. The courtiers exchange nervous glances, unsure of where to place themselves in this verbal dance between the two of you. They sense the tension, the unspoken challenge in Daemon’s words, but they dare not intervene. Instead, they hang back, listening closely while pretending otherwise.

You give a tight smile, deflecting his advance with ease. “How fortunate for you, then, to have found me amidst so many ‘dullards,’ as you so kindly put it.”

He laughs, a low, throaty sound that sends gooseflesh prickling across your skin. “Indeed. But then, I’ve always known where to find the rarest of treasures.”

His eyes lock onto yours, the weight of his gaze heavy with suggestion. You feel the noose of his presence tightening around you, making it harder to keep up the pretense of polite conversation. Every word he speaks is laced with a deeper meaning, a challenge you’re unwilling to meet, yet can’t entirely ignore.

One of the courtiers, a nervous young man from House Florent, clears his throat and tries to steer the conversation back to safer waters. “Princess Y/N, Lord Daemon, I heard the finest fabrics for tonight’s event were imported directly from Qarth. Perhaps you’d care to share your thoughts on—”

Daemon silences him with a glance, his attention never fully leaving you. “I think the princess and I have far more interesting matters to discuss, don’t we, Niece?” He leans in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, just loud enough for the others to hear the edge in it. “Or perhaps you’d prefer we step outside, where we might speak more privately?”

You stiffen slightly at his audacity, feeling your control slipping under the intensity of his advance. But you refuse to let him see how he rattles you. “That won’t be necessary,” you reply, your voice steady despite the tightness in your chest. “We’re perfectly fine where we are.”

Daemon’s smile widens, but it’s not the charming smile of a courtier. It’s something darker, edged with hunger and frustration. He’s testing your boundaries, trying to see how far he can push before you break. And you know that refusing him outright, especially in public, might only embolden him further.

He takes another step closer, his arm brushing against yours as he speaks in a tone meant for your ears alone. “You’ve always been so careful, Y/N. So proper, so well-behaved. But there’s fire in you—I’ve seen it. You can pretend all you like, but you can’t deny what’s in our blood, what we’re meant for.”

You force yourself to meet his gaze, your heart thudding in your chest. “You mistake me, Daemon. Whatever you think we share, you’re wrong. I am not like you.”

“Not yet, perhaps,” he murmurs, his lips barely moving as his breath ghosts across your ear. “But you will be, in time. The fire consumes us all eventually. Why fight what you can’t escape?”

Before you can answer, one of the other courtiers—a lady from House Frey—interjects with a forced laugh, clearly sensing the rising tension. “Lord Daemon, you speak of fire as though it’s something to be embraced. But surely even dragons know better than to be burned alive.”

Daemon doesn’t bother responding to her, his gaze still locked on you. “Perhaps some of us would rather burn than live half-alive.”

The weight of his words lingers in the air, a challenge wrapped in seduction. You can feel the eyes of everyone around you, waiting to see how you’ll respond. Every nerve in your body screams at you to walk away, to extricate yourself from this perilous game he’s playing, but the chains of decorum hold you in place.

“Not everyone fears the flame,” you reply, your voice a delicate balance between defiance and diplomacy. “But not everyone is foolish enough to be consumed by it either.”

For a moment, Daemon’s expression softens, a flicker of admiration passing through his eyes. He’s always liked your spirit, the way you push back when others would cower. It’s one of the reasons he’s so drawn to you—you’re a challenge, not easily won. But that only makes him more determined.

He steps back slightly, giving you room to breathe, though his presence still lingers like smoke in the air. “We shall see, Niece,” he says, his tone softer now, but no less intense. “We shall see.”

The conversation shifts awkwardly back to safer topics as the courtiers nervously chatter to fill the silence, but the damage is done. The undercurrents of tension remain, swirling just beneath the surface, unseen by most but keenly felt by you.

You make your excuses and step away from the circle, moving toward the safety of the crowd. But you can feel Daemon’s eyes on you, tracking your every movement, a predator biding its time.

You take a deep breath, willing yourself to focus on the revelry, the laughter, the music. But no matter how hard you try, you can’t shake the feeling that tonight was only the beginning. Daemon has set his sights on you once more, and though you’ve pushed him away before, you know this time he’s more determined than ever.

The fire is closing in, and you’re not sure how much longer you can keep it at bay.

The days in King’s Landing have grown longer, shadows stretching thin as the sun’s heat begins to wane with autumn’s approach. It has been weeks since the feast, since Daemon first rekindled his pursuit of you, and those weeks have been filled with nothing but frustration. You’ve become as elusive as a wisp of smoke, always slipping from his grasp just when he thinks he’s closed the distance.

He’s been searching for you throughout the Red Keep, stalking through the corridors like a restless lion. Servants avert their eyes when he passes, knowing better than to cross him when his temper is barely leashed. He checks the gardens where you sometimes take afternoon strolls, the library where you immerse yourself in history, even the secluded balcony where you once sat to watch the sun dip beneath the horizon. But you’re nowhere to be found.

His patience, already thin, frays with each passing moment. Where are you?

Eventually, he strides into the inner courtyard, his boots striking the cobblestones with purpose. He spots Rhaenyra, her golden hair spilling like liquid sunlight as she leans casually against a column. She’s watching a pair of knights spar in the yard, but when she catches sight of Daemon, she lifts a brow in amusement.

“Uncle,” she greets, her tone warm but laced with curiosity. “You seem troubled. Should I be concerned for my safety?”

Daemon barely slows his approach, his eyes narrowed and searching. “Where is she, Rhaenyra?”

Rhaenyra’s smirk widens, enjoying the tension radiating from him. She has always seen through him, understood the games he plays. But right now, her amusement only fuels his growing irritation.

“She?” she asks, feigning ignorance. “You’ll have to be more specific, Uncle. There are quite a few women within the Keep.”

“Don’t play coy with me,” he snaps, his voice a low growl. “You know who I mean. Where is Y/N?”

Rhaenyra’s amusement falters slightly as she studies him more closely. She sees the fire in his eyes, the barely contained storm that brews beneath his calm exterior. She knows Daemon well enough to recognize when he’s truly agitated.

“And why would you assume I’d know her whereabouts?” she asks, though her tone is more measured now, less teasing. “She doesn’t confide everything in me.”

Daemon steps closer, his frustration bleeding into impatience. “She’s your sister. You know where she’s gone. Stop wasting time and tell me.”

Rhaenyra’s gaze flickers with something unreadable before she sighs, realizing he won’t relent. “You’re relentless, aren’t you?” She shakes her head as if in disbelief, then lowers her voice conspiratorially. “Fine. I’ll tell you, but only because it’ll keep you from stalking around the Keep like a shadowed ghost.”

She pauses, savoring the way Daemon’s impatience makes him lean in closer. “She’s gone to ride Grey Ghost.”

Daemon’s reaction is instant. The blood drains from his face as his eyes sharpen, and without another word, he turns on his heel, already planning his next move. The mention of the dragon’s name—Grey Ghost, the elusive and wild creature—ignites something dangerous within him.

Rhaenyra watches with a slight frown, sensing his sudden intensity. “Daemon—wait. She knows what she’s doing; she’s always had a bond with that dragon—”

But he’s not listening. His mind is racing, the image of you alone on the back of such a wild, unpredictable creature flashing before his eyes. Grey Ghost is no docile mount like Syrax or Caraxes. The dragon is known for being elusive, rarely seen and even more rarely approached. For you to go after such a beast alone—Daemon feels a surge of possessive protectiveness he can’t tamp down.

He strides swiftly toward the stables, barking orders at the stablehands to ready his horse. The urgency in his tone leaves no room for argument. “Saddle it quickly!” he snaps, every muscle tense with the need to move, to reach the Dragonpit before it’s too late.

In the back of his mind, he knows he’s not only worried about your safety. This chase, this pursuit, has become something more to him—an obsession, a need to prove that you can’t slip away from him, not when he’s decided you’re his. And riding Grey Ghost? That’s an act of defiance, a clear signal that you’re not afraid to dance on the edge of danger.

He mounts his horse in one smooth motion and urges the animal into a gallop. The wind rushes past him as he rides through the streets of King’s Landing, his mind singularly focused on getting to the Dragonpit. He doesn’t care who watches or what whispers will follow in the wake of his urgency. Let them talk; let them wonder. All that matters is reaching you.

By the time he arrives at the Dragonpit, he’s barely winded, though his blood roars in his veins like wildfire. The keepers bow hastily as he storms past them, heading straight for the chamber where Caraxes, his own dragon, resides. The Blood Wyrm growls low as Daemon approaches, sensing the tension in his rider.

Daemon doesn’t waste a moment, clambering onto Caraxes’ back with practiced ease. The bond between dragon and rider is instinctual, and with a sharp command, Caraxes unfurls his wings and takes to the skies with a powerful beat. They soar upward, climbing higher into the heavens as Daemon scans the horizon, searching for the faint silhouette of a dragon in flight.

He knows the general area where Grey Ghost roams—often among the mist-shrouded cliffs near the coast, far from the reach of men. If you’ve truly gone there alone, then you’ve either misjudged your own courage or you’re challenging him in your own quiet, stubborn way.

Either way, he intends to catch you.

The thrill of the chase pulses through him, his heart racing as Caraxes cuts through the clouds, flying faster and faster toward where he hopes to find you. There’s a primal satisfaction in the pursuit, the idea of tracking you down, claiming what he believes should be his. He imagines what you’ll say when he catches you, what you’ll do—if you’ll continue to resist, or if you’ll finally realize there’s no escaping the inevitable.

As they fly over the rugged cliffs, he finally spots a shadow moving below—grey scales glinting in the fading light. There you are, astride Grey Ghost, your figure small but unmistakable. The sight sends a surge of possessive relief through him. You’re safe, unharmed, but you’ve ventured too far for his liking.

He urges Caraxes lower, drawing closer until the two dragons are flying side by side, their wings slicing through the air in tandem. The sound of Caraxes’ approach makes you turn, your eyes widening as you realize who’s followed you. Even from a distance, Daemon can see the defiance in your gaze, the way you straighten your back and tighten your grip on the reins.

You’re not pleased to see him. But that’s too bad.

Daemon grins, his eyes flashing with determination as he closes the distance, ready to confront you, to remind you that running—or flying—won’t keep him at bay. He’s always known where to find you, and now that he’s caught up, he has no intention of letting you slip away again.

The chase may be thrilling, but Daemon Targaryen has never been content to chase forever. At some point, even the most elusive prey must be caught. And when he finally corners you in the sky, he’ll make sure you know exactly what it means to be his.

#house of the dragon #viserys targaryen #alicent hightower #daemon targaryen #rhaenyra targeryan #grey ghost #daemon x you #daemon x y/n #hotd daemon #daemon targeryen x reader #daemon x reader #hotd x reader #hotd

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joeshiestyslover · 6 months ago

Text

friend of a friend- c. sturniolo

pairing: dealer!chris sturniolo x reader

summary: after you lose your previous dealer, you friend hooks you up with hers. little do you know, you’re about to become his favorite customer.

warnings: language, mentions of drugs, suggestive content

a/n: i’m such a slut for dealer!chris i wont even lie to y’all. also, imagine chris can drive in this one

masterlist

lowercase intended

“do you have a good dealer?” you ask your friend, savannah. your last dealer ended up getting arrested, so you’re low on your shit and in desperate need of more. savannah looks up at you, “yeah, you want his number?” you nod at her question, “yes please.” she shares his contact with you and you quickly click on the number and begin to type out a text.

you selling rn?

yeah what do you need

how much do you charge for an ounce

150

bet when can i get it?

whenever i’m home all day

he sends you his address and you put it into your maps, seeing he’s only about a ten minute drive from savannah’s house. you look up at her, grabbing your keys, “i’m gonna swing by his house and get some shit. i’ll come back later and we can smoke, yeah?” she smiles and nods, “sounds good, see you later” you smile back at her and walk towards her front door, walking outside towards your car. you hop in and connect your phone to the carplay, setting up the gps.

you drive for about ten minutes before pulling up in front of his house. you shut off the engine and get out of the car, locking it as you walk towards the front door. you stand in front of it for a few seconds before knocking a few times. you can hear footsteps inside the house and the lock clicks as the door swings open.

well damn.

on the other side of the doorway is probably one of the hottest men you’ve ever seen in your life. “what’s up?” he asks. “i texted you earlier about coming to pick up.” he smirks. “oh yeah. come on in.” he says, motioning for you to walk into his house. you cross the doorframe as he shuts the door behind him. “you wanted an ounce right?” he questions, looking you up and down subtly. you nod as he walks over to a jar which you assume holds all his shit. he then pulls out a bag of weed and hands it to you as you take out the cash. he walks back over to you and you hold the money out for him to take, but he just shakes his head, “nah don’t worry about it, i won’t charge you since it’s your first buy.” you raise an eyebrow, “you do that with all your customers?” he smirks at your question, “nah, just the pretty ones.” “well, thank you.” you smile at him a little. “oh i never got your name, i need something to save to my phone.” he smirks again at your request, “it’s chris. what about you, ma?” “y/n” you respond. “y/n” he repeats, “i like that name.” you feel your face heat up slightly, “thanks” “anytime, ma. is that all you needed?” he asks and you nod, “yeah that’s it. are you sure you don’t want me to pay?” “like i said, don’t worry about it. gotta make sure you come back.” you smile at his words. “thanks chris.” you begin to walk towards his front door. “see ya, y/n.” he calls out as you walk outside towards your car.

you begin to drive back to savannah’s apartment, parking in the garage. you walk up to her door and open it, seeing her sitting on her couch. “you never told me your dealer’s hot as fuck.” she just shrugs, “you never asked.”

a few weeks have passed since your first deal with chris and you’re starting to run low again.

hey can i come pick up?

of course ma

you want an ounce?

yea that’s perfect

come over then

you quickly gather your keys and wallet and walk out of your apartment towards your car. you get in and immediately pull out of your garage and drive to chris’ place. once you get there, you shut off the engine and grab your things before getting out and walking towards his front door. you knock and it’s only a few seconds before the door opens, revealing chris in a black wife-beater and some loose-fitting jeans and you can’t help but admire him. “there’s my favorite customer. how you doing, ma?” he asks with a smirk on his face. “i’ve bought from you once and i’m already your favorite customer?” you retort, sporting a smirk of your own. he shrugs, “just had to let you know. come in, i already got your shit ready.” he motions for you to cross the doorway.

you follow him into the apartment, shutting the door behind you. he grabs a baggie and holds it out to you. you take it from him and begin taking out your wallet, “are you gonna let me pay this time?” chris shakes his head. “absolutely not. my favorite customer doesn’t pay.” you sigh at his response. “i feel like i’m taking advantage of you. don’t you have to make money?” he shrugs, “don’t worry about it, ma. i have plenty of customers to make up for it.” you sigh and open the baggie. “you wanna smoke?” you ask as a smile graces his face. “i thought you’d never ask, but i don’t wanna smoke your shit i already have some pre-rolled.” he walks over to his jar and pulls out a joint. you close the baggie and put it into your purse and take out your light pink lighter. you hand it to him and he takes it from you, “this is cute.” you smile slightly as he sits on the couch, patting the spot next to him. you sit down as he takes a hit and hands the joint to you. you take it from him and take a long hit, letting the smoke sit in your throat before exhaling.

as you both sit in silence for a while passing the joint back and forth, chris speaks up. “you’re really pretty, y’know that?” you blush at his words and cover your face with your hands to hide it. “oh come on ma, don’t hide from me.” he puts out the joint and grabs your wrist, pulling them away from your face. you smile at him, “you’re really sweet chris.” he returns your smile “only for you, ma.” a beat of silence passes before chris breaks it. “what are you doing tomorrow night?” chris asks. “nothing. why you wanna do something?” he nods. “let’s go out.” “where do you wanna go?” you inquire. he smirks again, “you’ll find out.” you raise an eyebrow. “you’re not gonna murder me are you?” you ask playfully. “nah i don’t hurt pretty girls like you.” “if you say so.”

the next night, you begin to get ready for your date with chris. you take a quick shower before fixing your hair and doing your makeup. you pick out an outfit from your closet, a halter top, some cargos, and your converse.

as you’re fixing your lipstick, you hear a knock at the front door of your apartment. you quickly gather your things and walk over to your door before opening it. “hi chris.” you greet the brunette boy in front of you. he looks you up and down with a smirk, “hey ma. you ready to go?” you nod and walk out of your apartment, shutting and locking the door behind you. “so where are we going?” you ask, walking towards his car. “the beach.” he states simply as he opens the passenger door for you. you mutter a “thank you” as you get in. he shuts the door and walks around the car to the drivers side and gets in, turning on the engine immediately after shutting the door.

he puts the car into drive and begins driving towards the direction of the beach. he hands you the aux cord and you take it and plug it into your phone. you scroll through your spotify playlists and click one, putting it on shuffle. the song ‘sativa’ begins to play throughout the car. “y’know, i didn’t bring a swimsuit, chris.” you break the silence, but he just smirks. “don’t worry about that, ma.” you let out a small laugh, “okay.” you respond.

after about ten minutes of driving, chris finally reaches the parking lot to the beach. you unplug your phone and move to open the car door, but chris stops you, turning off the ignition and getting out, moving to your side of the car and opening the door for you. he offers his hand to you and you take it as he smiles at you.

chris takes a towel out of his trunk and walks over to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as he guides you towards the beach. you two walk in the sand before settling on a spot in front of the water. the beach is mostly deserted, the only people a couple hundred feet away from you. chris sets the towel down and sits down, holding out his hand for you to take. you grab his hand and sit down next to him. you look out towards the water and see the sun setting in front of you. you sit for a few seconds, admiring the view. “it’s so pretty.” you say to chris, your eyes still fixated on the water. “yeah it is.” chris replies and you turn towards him to see him looking at you. you smile at him and lean your head on his shoulder, his left arm quickly finding your waist.

the two of you sit there for a bit, enjoying each other’s company. “i’m glad you agreed to come here with me.” chris tells you. you lift your head off his shoulder and look up at him, “me too.” you see his eyes flicker down to you lips before coming back up to your eyes. chris leans towards you slightly, “can i?” he asks and you nod. he then leans in and presses his lips to yours, your hands coming up to cup his cheeks. he angles himself so he can lie you down on the towel with him hovering over you. his hands travel up your shirt as he begins to plant kisses down your neck. you let out a sigh of contentment, and he lifts his head up, chris’ blue eyes meeting yours. “you’re so beautiful, ma.” he says with a look of adoration on his face. you lean up and give him a quick, soft kiss.

chris sits up and takes his shirt and sweats off, leaving him in his boxers. “come on, let’s go for a swim.” he grabs your hands as you begin to undress as well until you’re just in your bra and panties. he leads you to the water as you giggle at his excitement. the both of you spend the rest of the night playing in the water and making out. as you enjoy your time with chris, you make a mental reminder to thank savannah for giving you chris’ number.

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo imagine #christopher sturniolo fluff #christopher sturniolo angst #christopher sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fluff

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getamuses · 9 days ago

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Authors notes: No warnings, nothing smutty here (minors not welcome to interact with this account)

Summary: Geta’s just kind of a dick tonight & you’ve gotta snap him out of it (again)

Pairings: Geta x Future Empress

Divider by: sweetmelodygraphics

Before you entered his life, Geta always had trouble controlling his anger. He even found it difficult in times when you were not immediately in his presence. When he’d be in meetings with the senate, one off hand remark could send him into a rage. Because you were a comfort for him in these times, he was quick to order you to be in the room during his meetings with senate.

You were never in main focus, the senate didn’t even approve of you joining their meetings but wouldn’t dare argue with their emperor. Knowing you were there & all he would have to do is look over his shoulder while you sat in the background arranging floral displays, or letter writing sometimes if Caracalla joined meetings, you’d even play with Dondus, was enough to help calm him in stressful situations.

On one particular night he’s really fuming. One of his worst fits in a while. You lost track of time in the garden picking flowers for the arrangements you wanted to put together for the Cubiculum so you weren’t there during what proved to be a particularly stressful senate meeting.

Soon after the success of capturing Numidia, during the gladiator games, he & Caracalla ordered Persia to be concurred for Rome now. He sent men out to fight this battle weeks ago & it’s taking longer than he had expected. Typically it would only take a few days to conquer an area. Many Roman soldiers have perished & there is pressure to send more to fight. The senate had voiced their concerns that the people of Rome grow hungry but the emperors don’t care. They want the glory for Rome at the cost of whoever they need to have pillaged & plundered. Rather, they demand it.

You had heard the commotion from the garden. Things were being smashed, Geta was shouting. “WHAT IS THE TIME?!” you shouted to the two servants who were collecting flowers with you. You dropped your basket of flowers & quick made your way back into the palace. Knowing that something set him off, you knew this wasn’t going to be fun.

When you walk into your shared chamber, there’s wine & shards of smashed wine glasses & vases on the floor. He’s on a rampage throwing things throughout the room. He’s then screaming about the mess & why no one is attending to clean it up.

The servants can’t keep up with the growing mess, so they stand in the corners of the room waiting & hoping he’d either dismiss them or he would leave the room, once he was done or gone from the room they could remedy his mess. They’ve done it before many times in his & Caracalla’s fits of rage.

You’re a bit shocked at the mess & can’t hide the shock on your face. When he notices your presence, he stops his screaming & turns away from you. He seems a bit embarrassed. To be reacting like a child who has been denied a toy or a sweet. You’re no stranger to his anger, but you hadn’t seen him cause such a mess like this before.

“Leave us” you order the servants, who don’t hesitate to leave the second the words pass your lips. “Your anger is not becoming of you my love, look at this mess you have created” you say carefully looking down to walk through the shards of clay & glass that blocked your path to him. “They were not dismissed by me & should be here to clean up this mess! How dare they retreat at the behest of a consort & how dare you think you can order anyone in my house! You are not even my empress yet! To think you have any power now is foolish! You won’t even have any IF you do become empress” he snapped back taking a gulp of wine he hadn’t yet smashed to the floor.

“If” he said… you recount to yourself, that word hurt. Never in your year together had he ever uttered questioning in your union. He pledged only his irrevocable love for you in the last month of becoming engaged to be married. Concubines & whores were banished to even be in his eyesight from the second he asked you for your hand. He wasn’t going to fuck this up, but now in a fit of anger, he made you doubt that love.

“This room, the items within it, & I are not the cause for your anger tonight Geta. You cannot smash all of your possessions because the senate & your army have angered you”. You’re standing behind him now, his back to you facing out the balcony over looking the flower garden he had planted for you over looking the sea. You reach your hand up to touch his shoulder but he flinches away in a huff.

“Do not speak to me as if I am a child! I am the Emperor of Rome! You are here to serve & satisfy me, not to lecture me!” he quickly spins back to face you spilling his red wine on the floor. “I will no longer allow any of you to attempt to take control from me!”

He’s screaming & as he’s coming closer to you, you no longer recognize the brown orbs you’ve loved since you met. The brown in his eyes has been suddenly replaced by a deep black. You’d never seen him like this before. What did he mean that he wouldn’t allow anyone to take control from him? Who was trying to take his power from him?

“Geta, my love” you speak quietly & with a bit of a hitch in your throat. “You know I am not here to take anything from you. You are my emperor, my soon to be husband. You are scaring me now. Come back to me my love. Break this spell.” You slowly reach to take the glass of wine from his hands to replace it with your hands. You interlock your fingers with his & it seemingly starts to pull him right back to you. “Break this spell” he quietly repeats back. Words he would soon start using to calm his brother during his demented hysteria.

Your hands are now at each side of his jaw. Thumbs slowly tracing back & forth to help soothe him & bring him back to you. Looking deeply into each other’s eyes & the familiar brown orbs start to return.

“Geta what did you mean when you said you weren’t going to let anyone take control from you? Who is trying to take your control?” you questioned hoping this wouldn’t reanger him. “The senators talk of treason, treachery, they say Caracalla & I are losing the trust of the Roman people. Gracchus suggested we give up our thrones to Acasius & Lucilla. This is my birth right. I am the emperor, I have the trust of my people.”

Noticing he’s becoming a bit agitated, you shush him running your hand up & down his back & along his arm. “I wouldn’t worry about that my love, the people love you. You needn’t worry about Acasius or Lucilla. They are past their time of ruling.”

“Where were you tonight? Why were you not with me during this meeting” he’s nearly whispering at this point now. His voice hoarse from the screaming. He’s leaned in closely now he’s rested his head on your shoulder.

“My love, I am so sorry the time slipped away from me. I was in our garden picking flowers I planned to put in the Cubiculum for you to celebrate your success. I did not mean to be in garden for so long”. He lets out a small hum.

You’re running your fingers through his hair & along the back of his neck which you know he loves. He’s entranced at this point. Your touch could easily calm him in any situation, this time was no different. You bet he definitely didn’t hear a word you just said but that doesn’t matter. He’s content now.

“Did you pick any of those white ones I liked? You know the ones I want to crown you in when we are married” he quietly asked not moving from his spot on your shoulder. “They’re called lilies & yes I have plenty of them as I know they are your favorite. There is a whole row of them in the garden” you’re still stroking his hair & feeling how heavy his body is getting you know you’re starting to lull him to nearing sleep.

You slowly lift his head up & have him stand upright, he needs a second to rebalance himself & hold his own weight again. Taking his hand in yours, “Come my love, let us sleep in a different room tonight, I will have this mess cleaned up for you by morning. For now let us take rest.”

“I’m sorry for what I just said before. I did not mean what I said, you WILL be my empress. Soon. I promise.” He wasn’t the best emperor far from it, but he was yours.

#emperor geta #emperor geta x reader #emperor geta x you #Getamuses #emperor geta fic #gladiator II #he got some angy issues what can I say #he big mad sometimes

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playboysaleen · 23 days ago

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Through Ash and Iron

Jinx x Reader x Caitlyn

Arcane had me in such a chokehold I couldn't pick- so just hear me out... through out all of it. LET. ME. COOK.

Summary: Through Ash and Iron plunges you into the heart of Piltover’s gritty streets, where you’ve always felt the weight of your family’s failures. Rejected from the Junior Enforcer Program, your anger burns brighter than ever—until one fateful punch changes everything. The eyes of Piltover’s elite may look down on you, but it’s the wild eyes of Jinx that truly see you. She’s chaos personified, and you’re drawn to the destruction she promises. But that’s not all. Caitlyn Kiramman, a poised enforcer with a soft spot for rebels like you, offers you a chance to rewrite your future—if you can control the rage you can’t seem to escape. Torn between the order Caitlyn represents and the dangerous freedom Jinx offers, you stand at the crossroads of two worlds. As your power grows, so does the tension between these two women. One promises a chance at belonging, while the other ignites a fire you didn’t know you had. But the choices you make will change everything—not just for you, but for both cities teetering on the edge of war. Who will you choose? And how much of yourself will you lose along the way?

Warnings: Violence duh, gay panic(lol), cursing, all that jazz (whatever you seen in Arcane is what you gon see here) This is also a slight AU.

Word Count: 4.8k

A/n: Reader is masc cause this was typically just for me to read but i decided to share it with you all so. Enjoy. It has she/her but just let your imagination soar cause i wrote this like two weeks ago and been invested since to go back and change it-

The Piltover sun was unrelenting, casting its harsh light across the cobblestone streets as you strode briskly, hands shoved deep into your pockets. Your family name weighed heavy, like chains wrapped around your shoulders. Born to a small family of tinkerers, You had spent your entire life feeling the gap between their modest contributions to Piltover's progress and the grand inventions that propelled others into fame. The Junior Enforcer Program had been your one shot at proving yourself, but rejection came swiftly, accompanied by sneering remarks about your family’s "lackluster pedigree."

Today was no different. The square was buzzing with the usual afternoon crowd when a familiar voice rang out, dripping with derision.

"Hey! Heard you got booted outta the program. Guess they only take people with real talent, huh?"

It was Garett, the golden boy of the Junior Enforcers. He and his cronies flanked him, their uniforms spotless, badges polished to a mirror sheen. You froze mid-step, your jaw tightening.

"Ignore them," You muttered to yourself, but your feet betrayed you, stopping as Garett took a few steps closer.

"What’s wrong? Family tinkering business not enough to get you a recommendation? Or maybe they saw through that temper of yours." His grin was razor-sharp. "Guess being a second-rate scrapper runs in the family."

The taunts weren’t new, but something about his tone—mocking, pitying—made your blood boil. The crowd had begun to gather, eyes darting between you and Garett like spectators at a boxing match.

"Watch your mouth," you growled, fists curling.

"Oh, what? Gonna cry about it? Or maybe punch your way into the program?" Garett took a deliberate step closer, his voice dripping with mock concern.

You snapped. The punch came faster than anyone could react, your knuckles connecting with his jaw in a sickening crack. Garett staggered back, his smirk replaced by wide-eyed shock.

"You don’t talk about my family," You hissed, your voice trembling with rage.

But You weren’t done. Your training—unrefined but raw with potential—kicked in. You swept his legs, sending him crashing to the ground, then landed a sharp blow to his ribs. The crowd gasped, the whispers turning to murmurs of disbelief.

When Garett’s friends tried to intervene, your stance shifted, your body low and coiled like a spring. One step closer, your glare seemed to say, ‘and you'll regret it’. They hesitated.

By the time the enforcers arrived to pull you off, Garett was barely conscious, clutching his side and groaning in pain. You, meanwhile, were hauled to your feet, breathing heavily, a black eye forming from a well-placed blow Garett had managed to land. The crowd was silent now, staring at you like you were some kind of wild animal.

Above the commotion, on a rooftop cloaked in shadow, a pair of bright, manic eyes gleamed. Jinx crouched, her lips curling into a delighted grin as she watched the scene unfold.

“That one,” she muttered, pointing at you.

Beside her, one of her goons—an imposing Zaunite named Clagg—shifted uneasily. "Her? She’s a Piltie. What d’you want with her?"

Jinx turned her gaze on him, her smile widening. "She doesn’t even know what she’s capable of," she said, her voice a sing-song melody laced with chaos. "That strength, that rage... It’s wasted here, wasted on them."

Clagg scratched the back of his neck, clearly unconvinced. "You sure she’s not just another uptight Piltie brat?"

Jinx snorted, hopping to her feet and pacing along the edge of the roof with feline grace. "Oh, Claggie. Don’t you get it? She’s perfect. She just doesn’t know it yet."

"Perfect for what?"

Jinx twirled her finger beside her temple, her grin widening into something almost predatory. "For making the Undercity known, silly. For showing Piltover we’re more than scraps and fumes. She’s strong, she’s angry, and she wants to make a name for herself."

"And you think she’ll just... switch sides?"

Jinx leaned closer to Clagg, her tone suddenly deadly serious. "They’re gonna throw her away, like they always do. All we gotta do is pick her up and show her who she can really be."

Clagg frowned, glancing back down at you, who was now being dragged off by two enforcers. The crowd had parted, murmuring about the ferocity you’d shown.

"You sure she won’t turn on us?" he asked.

Jinx tilted her head, her grin returning. "If she does, it’ll be fun. If she doesn’t... well, imagine the chaos we can cause with someone like her on our side."

She turned away, her voice drifting like a song on the wind. "Bring her to me. I want her."

Down below, as you were led away, you caught a glimpse of something on the rooftops—a flash of blue hair and a pair of wild, glinting eyes. Your heart skipped a beat, but you shook it off.

You didn’t know that your life was about to change forever.

The holding station wasn’t much—just a cobbled courtyard with heavy iron cells stacked against the walls, open to the unforgiving Piltover sun. You sat slumped against the bars, your arms draped over your knees, still nursing your bruised eye. The static buzz of the enforcer station echoed in the air, but you barely noticed. Your knuckles throbbed, but it was a good kind of pain—the kind that reminded you, you weren’t powerless.

"Well, well. Look who’s behind bars."

Your gaze snapped upward. Garett stood on the other side of the bars, his jaw tightly wrapped in bandages, one arm cradling his ribs. His smirk was weaker now, but his words carried the same venom. "Guess that temper finally landed you where you belong, huh?"

You leaned back, letting out a low chuckle. "Still standing, aren’t I? You’re the one who looks like they got hit by a train."

His smirk faltered. Your grin grew. "What do you want, Garett? A rematch?"

"You’re lucky I didn’t press for worse charges," he sneered, stepping closer to the bars. "Your kind doesn’t belong in Piltover. Should’ve left you to rot with the Zaun rats."

The word hit you like a slap, but you hid it behind a sly grin. "Bold words for someone on the wrong side of these bars," you said sweetly. "But hey, come a little closer. Say that again."

Garett narrowed his eyes, but pride—and maybe stupidity—drove him forward. You shifted subtly, the muscles in your arms tensing like coiled springs.

When Garett was close enough, you struck, grabbing his collar and yanking him hard into the bars. His head slammed against the iron with a sickening thud, and he yelped in pain.

"You little—"

Before he could finish, a sharp jolt of electricity coursed through your body. Gasping, you collapsed to your knees as the enforcers stepped in, tasers crackling. Garett stumbled back, holding his head, his curses drowned out by the ringing in your ears.

When the shock subsided, you dragged yourself upright, your vision blurry. You caught movement in your peripheral vision—a figure stepping out from the shade of a nearby fountain.

Caitlyn Kiramman.

Her uniform was immaculate, her posture poised, but her curious gaze lingered on you like she was trying to solve a puzzle. She approached slowly, stopping just outside the cell.

"You don’t hold back, do you?" Caitlyn said, her voice even but laced with faint amusement.

You shot her a glare. "What do you want? Here to lecture me about ‘proper conduct’ too?"

"Not exactly." Caitlyn crossed her arms, tilting her head. "You’re... different. Strong, capable, but reckless. That’s why you weren’t accepted into the program, isn’t it?"

Your fists tightened, but you didn’t respond.

Caitlyn continued, her voice softening. "You don’t have to waste your potential. I’ve seen people like you—people who think strength alone is enough. But without control, you’re a danger to yourself and everyone around you."

"And what? You think you can fix me?" You snapped, your voice edged with bitterness.

Caitlyn raised an eyebrow. "That depends. Do you want to be fixed?"

The question hung in the air, heavier than you expected. For the first time, you were at a loss for words. Caitlyn stepped closer, lowering her voice. "I can get you another chance. The program needs people with your skill. But you need to show me you can handle it."

Your jaw tightened, your pride clashing with the flicker of something you didn’t want to admit—hope.

"I don’t need your help," you muttered, though your voice lacked conviction.

Caitlyn studied her for a moment, then stepped back, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "Think about it. I’ll be around." She turned and walked away, taking a seat by the fountain, her gaze flicking back to you occasionally.

From the shadowed alley across the square, Clagg watched, his massive frame blending into the darkness. His brows furrowed as he observed Caitlyn’s interaction with you, the faint tension between them. When the conversation ended, he slipped away, heading back toward the Undercity.

Jinx was perched on a rickety table in her lair, tinkering with a new gadget, when Clagg arrived. He cleared his throat, and she looked up, her blue hair a wild, tangled halo around her face.

"Well?" she asked, her voice sing-song but sharp. "Is she ready to join the fun?"

Clagg hesitated. "Not exactly. They’re holding her until morning. But... there’s a complication."

Jinx’s eyes narrowed, her hands stilling. "What kind of complication?"

Clagg scratched his neck, looking uncomfortable. "The Piltie—Kiramman. She talked to them. Seemed like she was trying to... recruit her."

Jinx’s expression darkened, her grin disappearing. "Recruit her?"

"Yeah. Something about the Junior Program. She said she needed to ‘control her anger.’"

For a moment, Jinx was silent. Then she laughed, a sharp, grating sound. "Control her anger? Control it? That’s what makes her amazing!" She hopped off the table, pacing erratically. "That’s what makes her... Why would she want to be some boring, uptight enforcer when she could be so much more?"

Clagg shifted uncomfortably. "Maybe she doesn’t see it that way. Not yet, anyway."

Jinx stopped pacing, her eyes narrowing. "She will. Because I’m not letting her waste herself on those Piltover snobs." She spun on her heel, her grin returning, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

Clagg watched her carefully. "You jealous or somethin’, Jinx?" he asked, half-joking.

Jinx froze, then shot him a glare that could’ve melted steel. "Jealous? Please. I just don’t want her to turn into another boring Piltie pawn." She turned away, her voice quieter but filled with determination. "She belongs with us. She just doesn’t know it yet."

Clagg nodded slowly, stepping back as Jinx returned to her tinkering, her hands moving with restless energy. But the look in her eyes—sharp, calculating—told him she wasn’t done with you yet.

Not by a long shot.

The morning came with a harsh jangle of keys and the scrape of boots on stone. You stirred at the sound, every muscle in your body stiff and aching. The cold floor beneath you offered little comfort.

“Breakfast, rat,” an enforcer barked, tossing a dented metal bowl through the bars of your cell. It clattered to the ground, its contents sloshing dangerously close to the filthy floor.

You dragged yourself up, peering into the bowl. The so-called “meal” looked more like paste than food—a gray, lumpy porridge that smelled faintly sour. Your stomach churned, both from hunger and disgust. You hadn’t eaten in days, too consumed by work before your arrest to even think about food. Now, the gnawing hunger clawed at your insides, but even desperation had its limits.

The enforcer sneered. “What? Too good for Piltover’s finest cuisine?”

You glared at him, your lip curling, but before you could respond, another voice cut through the tension.

“That’s enough.”

Caitlyn Kiramman stepped into view, her commanding presence making the enforcer stiffen. She gave him a pointed look, her voice firm. “Dismissed.”

The enforcer muttered something under his breath but left without further protest. Caitlyn waited until he was gone before turning back to you.

“That doesn’t look particularly appetizing,” she remarked, her eyes flicking to the bowl.

You snorted, pushing the porridge aside with your boot. “You could say that.”

Without a word, Caitlyn stepped away, returning moments later with a small bundle. She crouched by the bars and slid it through—a cloth-wrapped package that smelled… amazing. Your stomach growled audibly as you unwrapped it to reveal fresh bread, cured meat, and cheese.

You didn’t bother with gratitude or manners, tearing into the food like it might disappear if you didn’t finish it quickly. Caitlyn watched you, her expression unreadable, though there was a faint flicker of something in her eyes. Amusement? Concern?

“You’ve been pushing yourself too hard,” she said after a moment, her tone softer now. “It’s not just hunger I see in you. You’re worn down—physically and… otherwise.”

You didn’t respond, focused on the food. It wasn’t until the last bite was gone that you leaned back against the bars, letting out a slow breath. Caitlyn still stood there, studying you.

Her gaze lingered on your arms, and you realized too late that your sleeves had slipped up, revealing the ink etched into your skin. The tattoos were simple, clean lines that twisted and turned across your arms, forming an intricate pattern that, to the untrained eye, might have looked random.

But Caitlyn’s sharp eyes picked up on the subtle symmetry. “Those tattoos…” she began, her voice laced with curiosity. “They’re a map, aren’t they?”

You tugged your sleeves down, your eyes narrowing. “It’s personal.”

For a moment, she looked like she might press further, but instead, she nodded, stepping back. “Fair enough,” she said simply, though her curiosity didn’t wane.

Above the holding station, hidden among the rooftops, Jinx crouched in the shadows of her hooded cloak, her bright blue hair tucked away. Her manic eyes tracked every movement, every word exchanged between you and Caitlyn.

“She’s just sitting there, acting all… proper,” Jinx muttered to herself, her voice dripping with disdain. “Thinking she can just swoop in with her fancy bread and—”

Her head snapped to the side, as if addressing someone who wasn’t there. “Oh, I know what she’s doing. Acting all high and mighty, trying to make her into a little Piltie puppet.”

Clagg shifted uncomfortably behind her, glancing between her and the interaction below. “You sure this is worth it, Jinx? If Kirraman’s sniffing around, it’s gonna be a lot harder to grab her.”

Jinx didn’t seem to hear him, her hands twitching as she began pacing along the rooftop. “Why does she even care? She doesn’t see it—doesn’t see what I see. The fire, the chaos, the… the art.” She giggled, then stopped abruptly, her expression twisting.

“But she will. Oh, she will. When I show her.”

Clagg hesitated, his voice low. “Maybe we should back off. Let her cool down first.”

Jinx spun around, grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him close, her manic grin returning. “Back off? Claggie, darling, that’s not how we do things. I said I want her, and I always get what I want.”

Her grip tightened, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “Now, bring me Sevika. If Caitlyn wants to play games, we’ll give her something to think about.”

Clagg nodded quickly, retreating as Jinx released him. She turned back to the scene below, her grin fading into something darker.

“She doesn’t need fixing,” Jinx murmured to herself, her voice soft but tinged with something almost… vulnerable. “She’s perfect just the way she is.”

The afternoon light bled through the iron bars, a dim and indifferent reminder of time passing. You sat curled in the corner of your cell, your knees drawn to your chest, arms wrapped around them. The stone was cold against your skin, but the tension in your body made you oblivious to it. The hum of enforcers’ chatter in the distance felt like white noise, and you closed your eyes, trying to block it all out.

The metallic rattle of keys pulled you back to reality.

You glanced up sharply as Caitlyn appeared, a brown satchel slung over one shoulder. Her polished boots echoed against the stone as she approached, stopping just outside your cell.

“Still sulking, I see,” she said, her tone light but with an edge of observation that made your jaw clench.

You shrugged, lowering your gaze. “What do you want, Kiramman? Here to throw me another pity sandwich?”

She ignored the jab and reached into her bag, pulling out a folded bundle of clothes. “Actually, I thought you might want something clean to wear. You’ve been in those for days.”

The gesture caught you off guard. Your eyes flicked between her and the clothes, suspicion prickling in your chest. “What’s your angle?”

Caitlyn smirked, leaning casually against the bars. “You’re really determined to make this difficult, aren’t you?”

You scoffed, your sarcasm kicking in as a defense. “Wow, you figured me out. Guess those fancy detective skills weren’t wasted after all.”

She didn’t rise to the bait, her calm demeanor frustratingly unshakable. “I pulled a few strings,” she said simply. “Instead of transferring you to the main detention center, I convinced them to let you out under my supervision.”

Your head snapped up, and for a moment, you couldn’t find the words. The shock must’ve shown on your face because Caitlyn’s expression softened, almost imperceptibly.

“You… what?” you managed, your voice quieter than you intended.

“Don’t look so surprised,” she replied. “I figured you deserved a second chance. It’s not every day I meet someone who can take down an enforcer and still have enough fight left to make sarcastic remarks from a jail cell.”

Her comment wasn’t just a tease; it was understanding. You felt an unfamiliar heat rise to your face, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you felt… seen.

You blinked, looking down at the floor before mumbling, “Thanks.”

Caitlyn raised an eyebrow. “Did I just hear you say something nice?”

You rolled your eyes, but a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips. It was fleeting, but Caitlyn caught it, and something flickered in her expression. It wasn’t obvious—just the faintest spark of warmth—but it disappeared before you could question it.

“Don’t make me regret this,” she said lightly, sliding the bundle of clothes through the bars. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up. You can shower at my quarters.”

You hesitated, but the thought of a hot shower and clean clothes was too tempting to resist. Rising to your feet, you grabbed the clothes, your curiosity about Caitlyn growing with each interaction.

The walk to her place was surprisingly quiet at first, the buzz of Piltover’s streets filling the silence. Caitlyn walked beside you, her steps measured and her presence steady. Eventually, she broke the silence.

“So,” she began, glancing at you. “Recklessness seems to be a theme with you. Always been like that?”

You shrugged, adjusting the bundle of clothes under your arm. “Guess you could say that. I’ve always been… protective. Didn’t like seeing people get pushed around, so I did something about it. Got me into trouble more times than I can count.”

Caitlyn nodded, her expression thoughtful. “You don’t strike me as the ‘follower’ type.”

A dry laugh escaped you. “Not really my style. I don’t do well with rules. Never have.”

Her curiosity deepened. “Where did you grow up? Before Piltover, I mean.”

You hesitated, the question stirring something uncomfortable in your chest. “I don’t really remember,” you admitted. “Had an accident when I was a kid—eight or nine, maybe. Lost a lot of memories. My parents said we had to move here, and… well, that’s about it.”

Caitlyn’s brow furrowed, but she didn’t press further. “That must’ve been hard.”

“Yeah,” you said simply, your gaze fixed ahead.

The conversation quieted, but the air between you felt less tense now, a tentative connection forming.

The sun dipped low, casting Piltover in hues of amber and gold as the streets grew busier. The walk to Caitlyn’s quarters was quiet for the most part, the city’s hum filling the space between you. You clutched the fresh clothes she’d given you, your mind racing with questions about why she’d gone out of her way for you. The warmth of gratitude mingled awkwardly with the stubborn edge of your independence, and you kept your thoughts to yourself.

Caitlyn finally broke the silence, her voice steady but probing. “So, do you plan to keep punching enforcers, or was that a one-time thing?”

You smirked despite yourself. “Depends on how annoying they are.”

Her laughter, soft but genuine, caught you off guard. You glanced at her, unsure if she was mocking you, but her expression was amused rather than judgmental.

The conversation lulled again, and you turned your attention back to the crowd ahead. That’s when you felt it—a strange pull, like a string tightening in your chest.

Your eyes scanned the bustling square, and there she was.

A figure cloaked in shadows, her hood low but not enough to hide the faint glow of blue strands peeking out. Her posture was loose, almost lazy, but her eyes… her eyes burned with a wild, electric intensity. They locked onto you, and for a moment, everything else faded.

Your heart twisted in a way you couldn’t explain. Something about her felt dangerous, chaotic, and yet… you couldn’t look away. You were trapped, rooted to the spot by the sheer force of her gaze.

“Are you alright?”

Caitlyn’s voice broke the spell. You blinked, tearing your eyes away to look at her. She’d stopped walking and was now watching you with a raised brow.

“What?” you asked, your voice slightly hoarse.

“I asked if you were planning to clean up your act,” Caitlyn said, tilting her head. “Or should I prepare for another arrest in the near future?”

You huffed a laugh, trying to shake the lingering unease from your chest. “Not really my style to plan ahead.”

Caitlyn rolled her eyes, but her lips quirked into a small smile. “Somehow, I’m not surprised.”

As the conversation ended, you instinctively glanced back toward the spot where the hooded figure had been. But she was gone.

The space she’d occupied now seemed impossibly empty, as if she’d been a mirage. The strange tightness in your chest lingered, though, a reminder that what you’d seen was very real.

Caitlyn resumed walking, unaware of the moment you’d just experienced. You followed her, your thoughts muddled. Whoever she was, that look… it wasn’t something you’d soon forget.

Caitlyn’s quarters were surprisingly modest for someone with her family name. The space was neat, furnished with clean lines and muted tones, though it lacked the lived-in warmth of a true home. You stepped inside cautiously, taking in the surroundings as Caitlyn moved toward a small desk, gathering some scattered papers.

“You don’t get a lot of company, do you?” you teased, running your fingers along the edge of a shelf lined with books and trinkets.

She glanced over her shoulder with an arched brow. “What makes you say that?”

You smirked, gesturing vaguely to the room. “It’s… a little too perfect. Like you’ve been trying to convince yourself you’re comfortable living alone.”

Caitlyn’s lips twitched into a faint smile as she continued tidying up. “Some of us prefer a bit of order in our lives. Not everyone thrives in chaos.”

You chuckled softly, continuing to wander. “Order’s overrated.”

Eventually, she stopped and turned to you. ��Shower’s this way,” she said, leading you down a short hallway. She opened a door, revealing a clean bathroom stocked with neatly arranged towels and toiletries.

She gestured toward the counter. “Towels are here, soap’s in the shower. Let me know if you need anything else.”

You stood awkwardly for a moment, unsure how to phrase what you wanted to say. “Hey, uh…” You rubbed the back of your neck. “Thanks. For everything. You didn’t have to go out of your way for me.”

Caitlyn leaned casually against the doorframe, crossing her arms. “I’m starting to think gratitude doesn’t come naturally to you.”

You huffed a small laugh. “Yeah, well… I mean it. But about this whole program thing…” You hesitated, searching for the right words. “I don’t think it’s for me. I don’t… fit into neat little boxes. I never have. And I don’t want to disappoint you. Or your name. You’ve got a reputation to uphold, and I’d just ruin it.”

Caitlyn’s expression softened, and for a moment, you saw the same person who had defended you earlier. “You’re selling yourself short,” she said. “You don’t have to be perfect to make a difference. Everything you’ve done… maybe it wasn’t by the book, but that doesn’t make it wrong.”

Her words caught you off guard, a flicker of doubt stirring in your chest. You shrugged, trying to play it off. “I’ll think about it.”

As she spoke, you reached for the hem of your shirt and pulled it off without thinking. Caitlyn froze mid-sentence.

Her eyes widened, fixating on the tattoos that adorned your skin—a network of minimalist lines and shapes that seemed to map your body. You glanced over your shoulder, catching her staring.

“See something you like, Kiramman?” you teased, a sly grin tugging at your lips.

She stammered, her usual poise momentarily shattered. “I-I wasn’t— I just—”

You chuckled softly, shaking your head as you stepped into the bathroom. “Relax, Commander. I’ll be out in a bit.”

The shower was a welcome relief, washing away days of grime and tension. You lingered longer than you probably should have, letting the heat soothe your aching muscles. When you finally emerged, dressed in the fresh clothes Caitlyn had given you, the scent of something… burning hit your nose.

You walked into the kitchen to find Caitlyn in a state of controlled chaos. She was at the stove, fumbling with a pan that was clearly getting the better of her. Smoke curled lazily toward the ceiling as she muttered under her breath, poking at something that might have once been food.

“Need a hand?” you asked, leaning casually against the doorway.

She jumped slightly, spinning to face you. “I was trying to make something for you. But it’s… not going as planned.”

You smirked, stepping forward to take the pan from her. “Let me handle this before you burn the place down.”

With practiced ease, you salvaged what you could and whipped up a simple but hearty meal. Caitlyn watched from the side, her arms crossed but her expression amused.

“Didn’t expect you to be good at cooking,” she remarked as you set two plates on the small dining table.

“People like me have to learn how to take care of ourselves,” you replied, sitting down across from her.

The meal was quiet at first, but Caitlyn eventually broke the silence. “You’ve been in a lot of fights, haven’t you?”

“More than I can count,” you admitted.

“Do you ever think about how you could’ve avoided them?” she asked, her tone curious rather than judgmental.

You shook your head, leaning back in your chair. “That’s just who I am. I see someone getting pushed around, I step in. It doesn’t matter if it’s smart or not.”

Caitlyn studied you for a moment, her eyes thoughtful. Then you decided to turn the tables.

“What about you?” you asked, smirking. “What’s your love life like? Got a boyfriend waiting somewhere?”

She stammered, clearly caught off guard. “I—no, I don’t—”

You raised an eyebrow. “No boyfriend, huh? Girlfriend, then?”

Her face turned slightly pink, and she fumbled for a response. Before she could come up with one, you grinned. “Relax, I’m just messing with you.”

The tension broke, and both of you ended up laughing harder than you had in a long time.

Later, as you stood at the door ready to leave, there was a strange tension in the air. Caitlyn handed you your belongings, her expression unreadable.

“Thanks for… everything,” you said, your voice quieter than usual.

She nodded, watching you closely. “Take care of yourself, alright?”

You stepped out into the cool night air, the streets of Piltover feeling oddly oppressive now that you were alone. Something gnawed at the edge of your awareness, a sense of being watched.

A voice called your name from the shadows, low and gravelly. You spun around, your posture instinctively defensive.

A tall woman emerged from the darkness, her metallic arm glinting faintly under the streetlights. “You’ve caught someone’s eye,” she said, her voice laced with menace.

Your heart raced as you tried to place her, but before you could respond, another voice echoed through the alley—high-pitched, teasing, and almost sing-song.

“Aw, Sevika, don’t scare her too much.”

Your head snapped to the source of the voice, but all you saw was the faint outline of a figure perched above, her laughter bouncing off the walls.

“Who are you?” you demanded, your voice sharp.

Sevika didn’t answer. She lunged forward, her cybernetic arm moving faster than you anticipated. You tried to dodge, but the impact was overwhelming, the world spinning into darkness as you hit the ground.

The last thing you heard before everything faded was the faint sound of laughter echoing in your ears.

___________

well… i personally like the next part (like i said i wrote this a little while ago like 2 weeks ago- it’s everywhere and 80k words-)

Apologies if there is any mistakes😔

#jinx x reader #jinx arcane #wlw #jinx x ekko #sevika #arcane #netflix #arcane netflix #caitlyn kiramman #caitlyn arcane #caitlyn x reader #lgbtq #fanfiction #book #love

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