#something being pink shouldn’t make you this mad | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

anitalenia · 1 year ago

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𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓶𝔂 𝓵𝓸𝓼𝓽 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮. ⊹ ۪ 𖥔 sukuna.

⋆˙⟡♡ 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒎𝒚 𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆. ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝒔𝒖𝒌𝒖𝒏𝒂 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑐𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑖𝑡 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆, 𝑢𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑙 ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑒𝑓𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑐𝑎𝑚𝑒 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘, 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒛𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒂𝒅. ˚୨୧⋆｡

┈ ᛫ ᤲ 𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔 ✦𓈒 𓆇 sukuna and you had something, could call it love, before you left him, but he was too obsessed with power, mad with the idea of being king again and killing all those Jujutsu high kids who always seemed to foil his plans. still, he came to you when he needed to, and you didn’t make any complaints. until one night he comes to you once more, realizing what he lost and missing what he had.

┈ ᛫ ᤲ 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒍𝒖𝒅𝒆𝒔 ✦𓈒 𓆇 sweet sukuna, injured sukuna, makeup sex in a way, soft + rough-ish sex, kissing + making out, hand around throat but not choking, lip biting, neck biting, shoulder biting, missionary position, kinda dom!Sukuna because obvi, hand holding during sex, back scratching, body worship kinda, pussy eating + oral fem receiving, clit stimulation, pet names such as rosie, pretty girl, pretty, dirty talk + nasty words, unprotected sex *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ minors do not interact | sexual content 18+

┈ ᛫ ᤲ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ✦𓈒 𓆇 sexual content 18+, mentions of killing, strong descriptions of blood, bloody wounds and broken-ish hearts. non accurate descriptions of fixing wounds that you definitely shouldn’t follow, plot holes and inconsistencies 🥰 a Japanese translation of a word that might not be accurate (I’m a white girlie what do I know about Japanese language), I use the word growl way way too much (but in my defense they need better synonyms)

┈ ᛫ ᤲ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 ✦𓈒 𓆇 thank you for reading, I love me a grumpy baby sukuna 💕 I didn’t really write this one how I wanted to write it, but I didn’t want to just delete it all either, so here it is 😜🥲 also I didn’t really like the way I wrote the smut so oh well.

✧˖°.♡︎˙ᵕ˙⋆｡°✩ 𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐘 night when Sukuna came to you; the wind was brisk and harsh like the black waves of an Arctic Ocean, the air frosty and sharp, stabbing into your delicate skin like pine needles. It whistled in your ears and pulled at your hair, biting into you in a fashion so familiar for the beginning of December. It burned the back of your throat every time you inhaled, your nose a raw pink color and your teeth chattering between fogs of warm breath. Your fragile skin was left prickled and shivering under the pale moonlight, the chill carving a path straight to your bones, swimming in your veins like ice water and making your blood run cold.

You had your arms wrapped around yourself in nothing but your silky black robe, quivering in the dim yellow light of your door step as you felt worry bleed into you, eyes straining in the darkness, scanning the dim street light, the snow covered lawn, the silent empty street, for the man your heart pounded so anxiously for.

It was that cold Friday night when Sukuna came to you, hidden in the dark shadow of night and smelling of copper and smoke, trudging through the white snow in blood stained footsteps and falling at your feet with a groan. He was pale and shirtless, covered in scratches and seeping wounds you weren’t sure he’d recover from; he was still so weak, born again but not yet risen to his full potential, vulnerable still; a fawn learning how to use its legs. Blood pearled through burned fingertips as he’d hold his injuries, claws dried in rich blood and his pink hair matted with frost and dirt.

You couldn’t stop the shocked gasp.

“Oh my god!”

You hurriedly grabbed at his forearm and waist — his soft skin cold as ice, ignoring his groans and growls as you’d use all your strength to help him stand up, your own bones rigid and fatigued as the cold crept up your spine and made goosebumps crawl over your arms and legs. Blood stained your hands and dripped at your feet, staining the concrete with rich red drops, your nose tingling and lips grimacing at the metallic smell of it.

“Those brats…” He growled lowly, blood spitting out on his chin and lips, a clawed hand gripping his waist where one of his worser injuries were, his other arm hung over your shoulder as you struggled to drag his limp body into the warmness of your small home.

You dragged him through the house, knocking over a vase in the process that shattered to the floor in several small pieces. The sound shocked you, but Sukuna’s pained moan shocked you worse as you managed to set him on your couch, as gentle as you could be, blood trailing on your wooden floor and soaking into the crimson red covers of your love seat.

Your own blood rushed through your ears as you quickly scampered off to your bathroom and gathered alcohol and rags, Band-Aids and towels, anything you thought could’ve helped him as his faint grunts and pained hisses could be heard throughout your hallway. You were sloppy, dropping things on the ground and leaving cabinets opened as you hurried back out to the living room.

“I’ll kill them, I’ll kill them all… all of those Jujutsu rats.”Sukuna spat out quietly, voice thick with rage and crumbling with pain, muttering more to himself than he was talking to you pointedly. You sighed at that, pity and concern creeping in your heart like sprouting flowers, walking over to where Sukuna lay and squatting down next to him.

You should’ve known this had something to do with Jujutsu High, it always did when he was this angry, this hurt. Still, you couldn’t help but be a little disappointed that Sukuna was still focusing on the same things, a madness taken over him that had him driving down the same endless myriad of roads that never lead the way he wanted them to. Things never changed with him, a hard lesson learned a long time ago.

He was laid on his back, one foot hanging off the edge of the seat and the other bent at the knee, leaned against the cushion. His hands were both on his stomach, where most of the blood seemed to come from, thick and red like paste, smeared over his skin. You almost felt dizzy looking at it. Sweat beaded at his hairline and dirt was smeared across his smooth skin and black markings, mouth twisted in pain and fangs poking out threateningly from between his red lips. Each breath was long and slow with disgruntled groans and hisses between ever so often.

You set your things down on the floor next to you, hands shaking and dried with blood splatter. Sukuna opened his four red eyes with a grimace at the sound of it, looking down at you as if you were something unfamiliar, a stranger to a frightened animal, distrusting and hesitant.

You looked back up at him, brow raised and eyes narrowed at the incredulous hesitance stained in his own eyes.

“Don’t give me that look. You came to me.” You pointed out softly, giving him a stern look that had him stubbornly glaring back at you with a frown.

The faint whisper of candle flame could be heard as you ignored the urge to roll your eyes at Sukuna, knowing this was a sensitive time for him and knew it was in your best interest not to ruin his mood any further.

The dim golden light of your living room, lit by the glow of firelight and candles, exaggerated the sharpness of Sukuna’s face, accentuated the shadow of his muscles and the redness of his eyes. You were almost distracted by the beauty of it, but you knew better than to be.

“Don’t be such a brat, I’m not in the mood.” He grumbled, his eyes closing once more as he leaned his head back slowly on the puffy red cushion; a pain throbbing in his temples. You didn’t bother arguing with him, just giving him another docile, sympathetic sigh as your eyes ran over his face with a gentle fondness.

A few beats of silence buzzed between you as your eyes ran over his cuts and burns, soaking in the rare sight and battered appearance of such a strong curse like Sukuna, a man (thing) who, as long as you’ve known him, had never been one to lose to anything. You knew that fact hurt him all the more, knowing a simple group of sorcerers seemed to always get the best of him.

Your eyes lingered on the gash on his stomach, his burned fingertips, ears intently focused on every pained breath and wheeze that left his lips. Worry pulled at your heart like it was plucking strings, thrumming through your blood and making your throat close up, looking back up at Sukuna with a particular agony of your own.

“What happened, ‘una? Who did this to you?” You spoke quietly in the dim golden light, a frown on your lips as your eyes burned with tears, a consequence of your worry. You could hear the wind rattling the trees from outside, harsh snow coming down now and melting into your windows.

You knew Sukuna didn’t adjust well to emotions, especially tears, but seeing him so mad and in so much pain it made your chest heavy with unknown guilt and sadness, a pit in your stomach that made you feel sick. You felt the need to help him despite his despair being his own stubborn fault. You always did, you couldn’t help it — a flaw really, you always cared too much for things that didn’t deserve it.

He opened his eyes once more, slowly, his red hues running over your face and observing the sad pull of your pink lips and the wet sheer in your sparkly eyes. He could admit to himself that he hated seeing you like that, seeing you sad for him. He didn’t like pity, didn’t appreciate sympathy; he was higher than the minuscule emotions that plagued humanity, the very existence of his own power and grandness going beyond the scale of human morality. But with you, he couldn’t deny that it was for a different reason entirely.

Sukuna could see that you were genuine; he faltered when he was about to snap out a rude response (from instinct more than anything), but when he saw the concern in your doe eyes he couldn’t help but swallow down his disrespect, eyes narrowed at you and his jaw clenched tightly, as if swallowing his own anger.

“That white-haired devil. He knew I’d be there somehow, brought those idiot children… I should’ve seen it!” He growled once more, looking away from you as the memory of earlier that evening played in his mind, a rage burning through him that distracted him from the pain, eyes furiously blazing with something murderous, his sharp teeth bared and a bloody mix of saliva trailing down his cheek in a sheer pink line as his veins throbbed. You felt your own fear jolt through you that had your muscles tense up and skin prickle, never seeing Sukuna so angry before, much less having seen him lose a fight.

“Shhh, you need to lay down, your wounds!” You instinctively put a hand on Sukuna’s shoulder when he tried to pick himself up, a clenched groan escaping his twisted lips when he bent his midsection. You pushed him back down rather roughly when he resisted your strength, eyes widened at the groan of pain that sounded from him.

“Okay, listen, I know you’re angry, but you’re hurt, and that’s more important than whatever revenge scheme you’re coming up with right now.” You scolded, exasperated, Sukuna looking at you like you had just struck him.

“Besides, you wouldn’t win any fight in the state you’re in anyway.” You mumbled quietly, taking your hand off an offended Sukuna who growled in response, turning your head and grabbing your damp rag from the mess of supplies next to you.

“Of course I’d win.” He grumbled almost childishly with that deep, scratchy voice of his, looking you up and down with a disgruntled expression.

You felt an amused smile pull at your lips, a chuckle bubbling in your throat at his stubborn behavior.

You looked back up at Sukuna with the rag in your hand, looking into the embers of his eyes as you spoke softly, “Of course you would. Now move your arms, I need to clean the blood off of you, your stomach got the worst of it…”

Sukuna stared at you, eyes narrowed slightly as they ran over your face, from your hair flowing down your back, to your eyes looking at his stomach anxiously, to your pink lips, pale and dry. He even noticed the blood on your robe, the dried patches on your collarbone and wrist. His eyes lingered on the robe though, familiarity striking him as he zoned in on the stitched red letters of 薔薇 (rose), right above your heart, just below your collarbone.

He stared at it, a fond memory surfacing in his brain that had him short circuiting, eyes looking back up at your face as he cocked his head at you with a glare, a growl gurgling in the back of his throat like it was your fault that he felt the way he did.

He felt something incredibly unfamiliar swirl in his stomach and claw at his heart; a mix of guilt, of anger, for getting that damned robe so dirty with his own sweat and blood.

“What is it?” You asked, always so concerned. You furrowed your brows, noticing the distant look in his eyes as he stared at you, his lips still twisted and eyebrows pressed together like your very face caused him great anguish.

“Why do you always have to leave? Why can’t you stay? Forget about those Jujutsu High people, just stay with me…”

“I can’t. Not until they’re all dead. Not until their blood is dripping down my hands and flooding the streets of this wretched city. Not until I’m King again. Once they’re gone there will be nothing in my way, nothing to stop me from having my throne, nothing that can come between me and my full power. Once I have that, I will have everything, nothing will ever be able to stop me again.”

“…is that really all that matters to you?”

You looked over Sukuna’s face with a pink blush at the awkwardness of it all, his crimson eyes, hard and piercing, boring into you with an aggrieved frown; the memory of something now unattainable playing behind those eyes of his that you knew nothing about. You felt anxiousness run through your blood as you placed a strand of hair behind your ear, somehow embarrassed at the way he was just staring at you.

“Sukuna, what’s the problem, are you okay?” You laughed nervously, like a doting school girl in the way he used to make you giggle so much, your eyes flickering between the rag in your hands and his stare; you were never able to make eye contact with him that long, he always flustered you too much.

But, you supposed, it was wrong to dwell on those things now.

Sukuna’s eyes danced between yours some more, watching and remembering like he was staring into a glittering pair of nostalgic television sets. His lips, tinged with blood splatter and chapped with dry skin, were set in an irate frown as those same guilty, unfamiliar, feelings swirled in his chest like a wicked brew, but also… something else. Something worse, something more painful, something dull but vibrant that burned through his conscious like a twinkling star.

“You still have that, huh?” He groused with that deep voice of his, voice thick but still remaining disinterested, his bloody hand moving up from his stomach (where strings of blood snapped between his palm and him) as his sharp claw poked at the red letters on your heart.

You furrowed your brows at what he meant, glancing down to where he poked you when the red stitching caught your eye and it all just made sense.

You faltered for a moment as your mind flashed back to the same moment his must’ve, staring down at it as a melancholic feeling settled in the pit of your stomach at the memory. Yes, you had never gotten rid of it, a pathetic attempt to hold on to you as it was the only thing I had left besides the pain you left behind. You looked back up at Sukuna with a solemn expression, your eyes flickering between his in uncertainty and sadness for a moment before you looked back at his stomach.

You really needed to fix that already.

“Um, well yeah. It was a gift, remember?” You gave him a small smile as you glanced back up at his eyes, the need to cry suddenly very real and heavy on your chest. You didn’t want to tell him the truth, tell him you missed him, and that for the first few weeks after he left it still smelt of him, smelt of smoke and cinnamon, rosemary and clary sage.

You couldn’t find the strength in yourself to throw it away even after the smell faded, nor could you stop the anger that flooded you every time you saw it. It was the only thing you had left of him besides the heartache, but at least that was invisible with the potential to be ignored. Not the robe, that was something physical and very much existent that just reminded you that you weren’t as okay as you made yourself believe.

Honestly, you hadn’t realized you were wearing it, damning yourself for buying one so similar.

Sukuna didn’t respond to that, just stared at you with a vexed expression like you were some riddle he couldn’t figure out, some ingredient he couldn’t taste, and it pissed him off. Still, he couldn’t help it when he reached back over and traced his finger over the red stitching, brows furrowed and eyes burning, his black claw scratching against it as he felt your body freeze underneath him. He could feel your heart beating rapidly under his finger, a spot of blood smearing over the letters from his bloody hand.

“Sukuna! Oh my god, I love it! But now I feel bad, i didn’t get you anything…”

“eh, don’t make it a big deal, alright?… But you like it, huh?”

“I love it, I love it love it love it!”

“Mm, good. How about you try it on for me, princess? Then give your King a proper thank you…”

“Okay, I will. But, seriously, thank you. I’ll always wear it. I love it.”

“Yeah, yeah, you better, you brat…”

Sukuna retracted his hand slowly, the silence between you heavy and buzzing with all those feelings you didn’t want to share, all those memories you didn’t want to think about. Your lips tightened as you looked over his face for some reflection of what he was thinking, your skin tingling at just the feel of his finger tracing your heart. You wondered if he could feel how quickly it beat for him, but knew that of course he did.

You swallowed nervously, adjusting your robe to cover the area of skin he had accidentally exposed. The stain of blood on the red lettering didn’t go unnoticed to you. It was painfully ironic.

Sukuna took your distraction as his outing, his eyes dropping from yours as he grunted and laid his head back on the pillow. He didn’t want to think about that, his mood already well and soured. Still, he couldn’t help the way his stomach tightened with a newfound sickness — sick with his choices? Most definitely. He closed his eyes and adjusted himself so he was more facing the cushion than you, an annoyed quirk on the edge of his sharp lip that let his white fang peek out.

He hated all these goddamn feelings. They were confusing and they hurt, hurt worse than any wound on his physical being that a mortal could give him.

“Hurry up, will ya? I’m tired.” He spoke in that annoyed tone like you were nothing more than a hassle for him, a pest he was shooing away. You frowned at that, the moment you two shared, dare you even call it that, now in shambles at your knees as you rolled your eyes at him in newfound annoyance; not just for his careless attitude, but also for making you remember.

“You know, you should really be nicer to me, I’m the only one who helps your grumpy ass.” You mumbled rudely, but just as honestly, scooting closer to the couch and reaching over to grab Sukuna’s wrist from where he was still covering the bloody wound. You moved it a little, grimacing at the way the blood had dried and was sticky all over his abdomen, smeared over his abs and sitting heavy in your nose like an essential oil.

You were just thankful the blood had stopped coming.

Sukuna flinched when you grabbed his wrist, his body tensing as he released a small growl like he was some feral dog. You could almost laugh at it if he didn’t irritate you so fucking much; you couldn’t believe he was still so stubborn despite always depending on you to help him. It made annoyance seep through your bones, more so than ever before.

“You need to move your arm or I won’t be able to clean it. You’re the one who wanted me to hurry up, aren’t you?” You sassed, having no patience for his attitude like you did earlier, raising a brow at him to dare him to try and rebuttal.

Sukuna glared at you despite knowing you were right, not appreciating his words (or your attitude for that matter) being thrown back at him. He relaxed his muscle though after a short stubborn moment, his hand going soft in your grasp so you could move it away.

“Be gentle. It hurts.” He hissed at you like a troublesome child when you went to move his arm again. You slowly raised his arm (but not before giving him a sour expression to show your distaste), with as gentle as a touch as you could muster, and carefully set it off to the side. He raised it to his head and set it behind him, propping his head on his arm as he stared down at you untrustingly.

You sighed in exasperation, giving him a look between annoyed and even more annoyed as you leaned over and gently ran the rag over the dried blood surrounding the wound. You realized the blood made it look a lot worse than it was; a simple deep cut that was mostly likely caused from some sort of weapon. You were curious on the details of what exactly happened, but you most certainly knew better than to ever ask him.

A few moments of silence passed as you washed away at the blood, red droplets running down his sides and most likely staining your loveseat. You were glad it was red, a purchase made shortly after meeting Sukuna as there were plenty of nights spent just like this one. The white rag quickly became tinged with pink, but some spots were harder to scrub than others from where the blood had crusted for so long on his skin.

You glanced up at Sukuna, where his eyes were now closed but his mouth was still twisted into a grumpy scowl. You would say he looked a little cute, like a pouting puppy more than a murderous curse, but no, you weren’t going to say that nor admit it to yourself. It was always hard to keep those thoughts away; your mind had become so consumed with him when you were together that it was hard to just forget about him now.

You looked back down, hoping Sukuna wouldn’t notice when you pressed down just a little harder, only a little on a stubborn patch of blood by his belly button. Of course, you just as soon regretted it as Sukuna’s clawed hand came down quicker than you could think and snatched at your fist with a pained hiss.

“I said gentle, woman!” He spat, viridian eyes enraged and sharp teeth glistening under the dim orange light. Your eyes widened in initial shock before they glared down at where his hand was gripping yours. You hissed at the tight hold on your knuckles, snapping your head at him. The genuine pain swirling in his irises did little to subdue your own anger.

“Oh my god, okay!” You exclaimed in utter frustration, snatching your hand out from under his with a scoff and a shake of your head.

Sukuna let out an almost threatening sound from the bottom of his throat, glowering at you for a few moments like you had just hurt him personally. Still, his eyes couldn’t help but wander to the way your hair fell around your shoulders; you’d always been beautiful, far more beautiful than he ever really deserved. He stared at you a little longer than he should have, thankfully unknown to you. Looking at you like this only made him feel like shit, remembering what he had done.

It made him feel sick and lost; at the way he treated you and yet you stuck around. Had you really loved him? You must’ve, you always stayed when in reality you should’ve left long ago. Even now, you always helped him despite how he treated you, Sukuna wasn’t blind to it. He saw you roll your eyes at him and this mournful feeling settled heavy in his heart (when had he gotten one) — he was still grieving over the loss of you and he didn’t think he’d ever get you back.

Sukuna gave you one last glare for being so damn distracting before he relaxed once more in the love seat. You have managed yet again to bring out these feelings in him that made him want to throw up and he hated it. He laid flat on his back, wincing as he did, clenching his jaw and letting out a low snarl at the predicament he was in.

You settled down yourself, letting out a huff as you glanced back up at him in exasperation. You couldn’t believe the temper he still had, you even found it mildly amusing. You looked back at his abdomen, where pink water droplets dripped from your hand and down his side. You resumed gently washing away at the blood coating him, “All that time to yourself and you still haven’t fixed those anger issues it seems…”

Sukuna’s eyes snapped open at that, his ears picking up the end of your grumbled sentence.

“What’d you say, brat?” He hissed with a dark glare, looking down at you with an expression of utter offense at your statement.

You glanced up at him, your eyes running over that familiar face with a smile you couldn’t stop from stretching over your lips. Your eyes ran over his scowl, the fierceness of his glare, a small giggle bubbling in your throat. You put your head back down and continued rubbing the blood off of him as though he couldn’t see the wide, bemused smile on your lips.

Sukuna instantly felt confused at your reaction, his eyebrows furrowing as he stared down at you with a dumbfounded expression.

“What’s so funny? Why are you laughing?” He scoffed at you, like he was offended that he was the only one not in on your joke, glaring at the way you only seemed to laugh just a bit harder at him. His eyes were immediately drawn to your lips, the curve od your smile and the sweet sound of your laugh that seemed to make his heart pound in his ears. He glanced at your grin then back to your eyes before you could notice.

You bit your lip to stop the giggles, smiling through your teeth as you glanced up at him and his confused (hilarious) expression.

“Oh, nothing. Just lay back down.” You sighed whimsically, smiling to yourself as you went back to cleaning the blood off of his waist, albeit not as concentrated as you were before — a way to distract yourself from looking back up at him. It was something though, of course it was something, but it was also something you most definitely didn’t want to talk about. You’d hoped he’d ignore it, but of course he wouldn’t.

Sukuna scowled at you, grabbing at the rag in your hand and ignoring the sting of pain that shot through him as he leaned forward towards you, his shadow crossing your face.

“Tell me, I demand it.” He ordered, his hold tightening on your hand as his glare worsened.

You had froze when he grabbed you, almost embarrassingly so, your eyes lingering on his hand that was conjoined with yours (always bigger and full of so much power) for a moment before you cleared your throat of any remaining laughter. To this day, he could still make you feel so nervous.

“Oh, you demand it, huh?” You almost laughed at that as you looked back up at him, eyes quickly finding his in the daze of candle smoke and blood. You staggered for no particular reason, missing the way he always used to look at you. You managed to compose yourself though as a wide, amused smile at his dramatics pulled on your lips instead. He couldn’t help but linger on it, hand still on top of yours like you both weren’t aware of it.

Sukuna couldn’t help the irritated sound that fell from his lips, rolling his eyes at you before giving you a really look (it only made you smile harder at him).

“Oh, it’s nothing. It’s just… whenever we were together you would always get so offended when I would say anything about your anger issues. It’s just funny that it still bothers you, that’s all.” You smiled fondly — bitterly, at the memory of it, shrugging your shoulders nonchalantly as though speaking of it didn’t affect you as much as it really did.

Truth was, of course it affected you. It was just supposed to be a fleeting thought, a fleeting memory shoved to the surface that was quickly drowned. But he just had to know, and now it was all you could think about. It made your heart sink, sadness filling in your chest cavity like syrup, thick and heavy and bitter in your blood.

The smile slowly fell from your face as you looked back down at his wound, which was slowly healing itself. You looked at his hand, which was still tight around yours (having to fight the urge to turn your palm and intertwine his fingers with yours). You couldn’t bare to see the look on his face at your response, feeling embarrassed for being so vulnerable so quickly, feeling embarrassed that you spoke with him like he was nothing but a friend. He wasn’t a friend to you, he wasn’t supposed to be anything anymore. But he was and it was silly of you to try and disregard that fact.

You knew he was more, he was always more, so here you were, blushing and smiling like he was still with you, like he wasn’t here to use your services then leave as he did every few months. You were silly and love drunk, blissed out on the memories and the hope of his return. It was ridiculous. Yes, You missed him — you absolutely hated to admit that fact but it was blaring in your head, obvious and flashing, obvious in the way you cared for his wounds every time he came, obvious in the way you welcomed him back in time and time again. It was so painfully obvious you still hoped for him, and these little visits of his did nothing but ruin you more.

You sighed as your eyes started to burn, hand clenching the rag for dear life to try and stop them from coming. You had to be stronger than this, strong like all those times you’d seen him before in the year and half he’s been gone.

Sukuna stared at you for a while, his grip loosening on your hand as he thought about what you just said.

Whenever we were together.

He felt bad, to put it simply. He didn’t ever think he’d miss you, a mortal, like he has. He didn’t ever think he’d need you, a mortal, at his side when he became King again, he didn’t ever think he’d need anyone. He was Sukuna, King of the Curses and one of the most powerful beings on earth. He could have any woman he wanted, absolutely anything he desired, he was just that powerful. He knew that when he met you, the only sorcerer to never try to kill him, the only girl he’d ever faltered for.

When did he lose sight of that? He was evil, he wasn’t meant to live or love but here he was, already having lived and loved beyond what he was meant to. Loved? Loved. He did love you but he always loved power more, he loved you but… he screwed it all up and you left him. He thought he was fine with that, thought that you were just a waste of time he granted his attention to, a speck in his endless story of immortality and struggle, but then you left and he didn’t have you anymore. Was power ever really worth it compared to you? He was alone, but wasn’t that what he wanted in the first place? He didn’t need anyone, didn’t need you, a mortal, to be by his side when he took his throne at the flames of the world.

That’s what he thought.

But then you left him like any self respecting woman would have and he had missed you, missed you so much more than a curse like him was supposed to feel. He missed your smile and your hands, your touch and your pretty eyes. He knew he wasn’t the best man around, never treated you quite fairly and always considered you second to his crown, but it didn’t take him long after your disappearance to realize how foolish that was. It wasn’t his strength that made him dinners at night, it wasn’t money that kissed him on his cheek and held his hand, and it wasn’t power that loved him like you did.

He knew he had lost sight of what was most important, he knew that but he was too stubborn to admit it to anyone, even himself, especially you. He had been chasing a fantasy, an idea, when you were right there all along. He was so stupid, but he was greedy and selfish above all. He wanted you but he wanted power, and you proved that he couldn’t have both.

What was he doing here? Why did he always come to you when he needed help? Why did he ever let you leave and why did he keep using you like this? Really he had no one else to turn to, and if he did die he wanted it to be with you, in your arms or by your hand. It was sappy and sentimental but it was the truth. Yes, he was evil, he was supposed to be evil, take what he wanted and use what he needed with no care for others.

But you… he couldn’t be that way with you even when he first met you. You had softened him up, but it still wasn’t enough to change him completely. He still craved endless strength and reign above all, after all he was created to kill anything that got in his way. He needed to destroy and plunder, do the sins he was born to do and burn the world to ashes.

But… he didn’t want to do any of that without his queen by his side. Why was he doing this? Why was he doing this to you? All these questions and no answers, a year and a half of hopelessness and loneliness, a year and a half of chasing something that would never satisfy him like you did; teetering on the edge of a cliff but never quite falling in. He wanted to with you. Fall into that dark abyss of uncertainty and fear with your hand in his, just as it was intended.

He didn’t necessarily plan on admitting that tonight though, but seeing you with that damned robe on and your hair so shiny and smooth the way he liked it… he could feel his resolve slipping away like warm honey. Damn, he really did miss you.

And now, you just had to go and say that and make him feel even worse. When we were together…

Ryomen Sukuna clenched his jaw at the weight behind that simple statement, his eyes running over your face for any sign of the pain he knew you felt inside — or what he could see of it through the strings of your hair.

He left the hand that was on top of yours there, almost squeezing it underneath his in an uncharacteristic effort of intimacy. He heard you let out the quietest sniffle, his chest caving in as his eyes flickered worriedly around your frame. He felt a need to comfort you pull at his dark heart, but he wasn’t quite sure what to do and felt utterly powerless.

He shyly brought his other hand up, hesitant, not wanting you to flinch away from him, not wanting to scare you off.

The silence was almost too much to bear between you as you refused to look at him, feeling weak and stupid for bringing it up.

Sukuna delicately laid his palm on the back of your head, his skin stained with his blood and crusted to his claws. You didn’t move when he touched you, very gently stroking your hair once you didn’t move away from him. He clenched his jaw, wanting to grab more of you from just that small touch alone.

You closed your eyes at the feeling, savoring the tingles on your scalp with every brush of his hand. You thought it was kind of sweet of him, his own way of comforting you that was already so uncomfortable for him to be doing. You were grateful for it, slightly leaning into the warmth of his touch, not caring about the dried blood on his fingers.

Sukuna let it be silent for a few soft moments, relishing in the feeling of you under his palm again.

“You should go to sleep, brat. I‘ve got the rest.” He mumbled in that aggressively caring (but somehow nonchalant) way that he does. You just appreciated the fact that he was trying at all.

You hadn’t heard that tone in a long time; it raised goosebumps on your skin that had a small smile gracing your lips. It was well needed and washed over you like a velvet curtain.

You were tired, but you didn’t want to leave him by himself like this, leave him to clean his own wounds (although they were his own), but you cared too much to ever leave him alone, another reason why you always so graciously helped him when he wanted you to. Besides, you didn’t want to leave him injured like this, bleeding on your couch and covered in dirt, knowing he still needed help despite not saying it.

You raised your head up to look at him, your eyes and cheeks tinted a soft shade of pink.

“Are you sure? I can do this for you, I don’t mind it, you know that.” You protested, his nails scratching into your head in a tingly way that made your eyes droopy.

He gazed back at you with a softer expression, one that made you weak and doting at his bedside. You missed when he’d look at you like that, like he really cared about you more than his dreams of world domination. His eyes looked over your face, the need to bring you closer sizzling and suffocating, so much so you almost thought he would (hoped he would). He kept his hand in your hair, but the petting stopped the longer you looked at him, a sudden intimacy soft in the air between you as you looked into his eyes.

He frowned at the look on your face, almost pitiful, the aftermath of a few quiet tears you’d hoped he didn’t notice (he always knew).

“Go.” He spoke quietly, voice deep and rumbly like brittle mountains that made a shiver crawl up your spine. It made your mouth dry at the intensity of his gaze, your chest fluttering at the unnecessary kindness. You wonder what changed. You sighed at the silent demand in his voice, wanting to stay, but judging from the daring way he raised his eyebrow at you you knew it was futile to argue.

“Fine. But don’t move too much, and don’t clean any of this, i’ll get it tomorrow. Just try to get some rest now okay? You need to heal. Those wounds are worse than the other ones you’ve had.” You ordered gently as you raised yourself off your knees — they popped as you did so, and set the rag on the table. Your hands were a little bloody as well, knowing you looked almost a big of a mess as he did. Sukuna’s hand fell off your head as you rose, his nails lingering on a few strands of hair until they fell from his reach.

He put his hands behind his head and looked up at you, his eyes gazing over your form in a way he wasn’t able to before. Could say it was a form of admiration, but you didn’t want to reach. You glanced back at him, at his chest and abs that were sharp and bloody in the golden light of the living room. You scolded yourself, knowing you really shouldn’t be looking at him in that way.

“Yeah, yeah. I think I can handle it.” He rolled his eyes at you, words full of sarcasm and dismissal. You gave him a sarcastic smile back, taking a step forward and leaning down towards him to adjust the pillow behind his head. You were grateful that the both of you mutually decided to just forget about the moment that happened just mere seconds ago, you couldn’t handle the embarrassment that would come with his teasing.

Sukuna looked up at you as you leaned towards him, his eyes curiously looking up at yours, head almost titling up towards you. You ignored his proximity, the smell of rosemary and smoke on your nose that masked the heavy scent of pennies in the air.

You swallowed when you looked at his lips, then back to his eyes, flustered now at the way he seemed to have expected you to do something else.

You cleared your throat, awkwardly fixing the pillow behind his head. He looked at your own lips, your hair falling around his head and tickling his shoulders. He felt his heart race, the urge to reach up and just take your lips in his strong and burning in his chest.

“Whatever you say.” You mumbled between his face and yours before quickly turning around, a blush on your cheeks and a heat lingering on your skin.

Sukuna watched as you started walking towards the hallway, intent on taking a shower to wash the blood off yourself, eyes glued to you as disappointment sunk in his chest at the missed opportunity. He clenched his jaw in frustration, looking at how pretty you were in candlelight.

You stopped at the corner of the hall, your cheeks burning as you tried to catch a breath of false confidence, not wanting him to see how easily affected you were by him even after all this time. It was almost pathetic how quickly he could make you blush. You inhaled, face covered by the corner of the wall so he couldn’t see you, then exhaled in an attempt to calm your heartbeat.

You turned your head, noticing how he was already staring at you with dark eyes. You looked back at him, wanting to say so much more than you should, an ache in your chest that pained your heart at seeing him again.

“Goodnight, pinkie.” You smirked at him, knowing how much he hated when you called him that. It was just a silly nickname you always called him when you were together, a tease to his pink hair that started from the beginning of the relationship. You weren’t sure if you should’ve said it but you needed something to break the tension you could feel weighing down on your shoulders.

Shockingly, Sukuna didn’t glare at you like you thought he would have, like he usually would have. His expression was blank and unreadable, dare you say heartfelt at the way his eyes softened so uncharacteristically, looking back at you with a hard stare. You swore you could feel the air get warmer.

“Goodnight, Rosie.”

You faltered as you turned back around to leave, your hand coming up to your chest like he’d just snatched the air out of your lungs.

Rosie.

He hadn’t called you that since he loved you, or so you thought he did. It was something so simple but so important, a small detail among the bigger picture that made your heart flutter; you couldn’t believe he even remembered that, that he cared enough to call you it again.

You couldn’t stop the smile that spread over your lips like a lovesick fool, giddy and bashful as you walked to your room with confusing thoughts in your head.

Goodnight, Rosie.

Sukuna had taken a shower shortly after you retired to your room, the heat much needed on his cold skin as blood and grime swirled down the drain in a spiral of red and black. He stared at it blankly, hot water washing over his bruised body and unveiling all the cuts he didn’t even know were there, bathroom steaming with a thick smog that fogged up the mirror and the space around him.

He was thinking about you then, lost in a trance, thinking intently about you and your smile, thinking about how it used to shine for him but now it only shined at the memory of him — he should’ve appreciated that as that was enough, it should have been enough for him as it would’ve been for any man who betrayed the woman they loved. He was lucky he was still a sore memory and not a bitter regret, he was lucky you still even smiled around him at all. He was lucky now just as he’d been lucky before, but he wasn’t as foolish now as he was then either.

He had been thinking about this for some time actually, just a few months after the loneliness and heartbreak had really settled into his bones. It took a while, but eventually he couldn’t deny the stiffness in his joints and the heavy weight on his chest, the feeling of your loss crushing his rib cage and suffocating him.

Even these little pathetic visits of his were a lame excuse for the real reason behind why he wanted to see you; but it still surprised him that you never turned him away, not even the first time he showed up at your door with bloody knuckles and bruised skin. You most certainly weren’t as hospitable as you are now, barely gave him a blanket to sleep with after you threw a rag at him. Still, you never kicked him out and he’d wake up with the blanket wrapped around him anyway.

It was a sweet, short lived moment before he’d have to leave again.

You were always so sweet, sweeter than you gave yourself credit for. Sukuna always loved and loathed that about you; you were too trusting sometimes despite knowing the dangers of the real world — but then again Sukuna was the most dangerous thing of all, what could possibly scare you now? You were too sweet and it contradicted him greatly; he always considered himself rude… rude and harsh, apathetic to life’s many sorrowful woes and uncaring for measly mortal lives. Humanity was a pest to him, a cockroach nibbling on the crumbs of his successes. You of course, didn’t necessarily share that same vision.

You made him soft, even he knew that. You made him care less about them and more about you, but never quite enough to make him forget about his true love for ultimate power. You had made him soft yes, turned his sharp edges into curves yet you couldn’t change his dire need for bloodlust. That, you didn’t mind. You knew who Ryomen Sukuna was, knew he wasn’t some docile little puppy that would hang on to your every whim and argument. He was murderous but not so much when he was with you, and that was all you really wanted.

Come to think of it, you never truly tried to change him at all. You’d be disappointed sometimes sure, but never once did you say he was wrong, or that he shouldn’t do this and he shouldn’t do that. In anyone’s eye you were perfect; a pretty little queen who gave her King anything he asked for for one simple thing in return. His love.

Sukuna gave you that but… he didn’t at the same time. He was younger then though, a freshly reanimated curse still hellbent on revenge and destruction like he’d been 1,000 years ago. He didn’t love anything then, nothing but pure chaos. Then he was trapped, and 1,000 years later he had reawakened with that same fury only in a much different time, in a much different world. He didn’t have you 1,000 years ago but yet he had you all of a sudden, the girl who killed curses for a living yet didn’t kill him.

He didn’t know what made him so special, but he didn’t kill you either, stuck on your otherworldly beauty and hanging on to every sweet word that left your lips. He made you his a couple months after, not like you weren’t the moment he laid his eyes on you and decided to spare your life. Something beyond him must’ve known how important you’d be later on, something beyond him saving him from the potential heartbreak of having not been with you at all.

He spoiled you in all the gifts and glory you never could’ve imagined, dressed you in soft red silks and fine white diamonds, showered you with oh-so sweet compliments and possessive touches — he never liked anyone thinking you weren’t his, but he never gave you the one thing you really wanted in the way you deserved it. He never chose you first, put you first, loved you above everything. Yes, he loved you but he loved chaos more, and eventually his crazed mind had twisted into something so incongruous, so far gone he was blinded by his need for mayhem that he couldn’t see you anymore.

And that’s when you left, and it’s been such a painful blur ever since.

His girl, his rose… withered into ash in the flames of his own hands.

But now, now he was grown. He knew what he wanted now and the night only made it so much more obvious to him that he was ready to give you everything, all of him and all of his love.

Maybe it was the soft way your hands ran across his hot skin, delicate and dainty, so you couldn’t hurt him anymore than he was already hurt. Maybe it was the way you fluffed his pillow like a doting wife and smiled at him so sweetly like he’d never done anything to hurt you in the first place. Maybe it was the way you saved him time and time again with open arms and a gentle heart despite how he’d treated you. Maybe it wasn’t just one moment that made him realized how much he missed you, but in fact all of those moments combined that helped piece together that revelation.

You were beautiful and kind, a flower he had abused one too many times that grew thorns around it’s heart. Now you weren’t so easy to pluck, to win over. But now Sukuna was ready, he didn’t care if he got cut if it meant you’d be his flower again, his darling rose.

Sukuna clenched his jaw, skin red and patchy from the heat of the shower as he reached over and turned it off. The water subdued to echoing droplets, his need for you stronger than any craving for chaos he’s ever experienced.

He was ready to love you, to give himself to you in the way you always needed, be there for you just as you were for him. He couldn’t let this snowy night pass before you knew that, let this opportunity pass him by like they have so many times before. He stepped out of the shower, determined to make you his again and become the King (thing) you always deserved.

For the first time in his very long life Ryomen Sukuna was going to be selfish for the right reasons.

It was that cold Friday night when Sukuna came to you, slowly opening your door so he didn’t wake you up quite yet. He was still bare from the shower, a piece of gauze taped to his abdomen the only form of attire he had on. He had left wet footprints along your hallway, his skin mostly dry from the warm air of your home but his pink hair still damp, droplets of water rolling down his neck. His abdomen ached with every step but he couldn’t focus on the pain, only you.

He didn’t care that he was naked, you’d seen his body plenty of times before just as he’d seen yours, and what a beautiful sight it was. He had no shame and had nothing to be ashamed about, and to be honest his nudity wasn’t even a thought in his mind as he gently closed the door behind him.

It was late, the sky still black with white flurries sprinkling down, your window stained with fog and snowflakes as a silver, fragmented glow of the moon befell on your sleeping form. Your room was dark but bright enough for him to see, his feet silent and calculated like he knew which boards creaked and which ones didn’t; he’d been in here so many times without you knowing that the rhythm of steps he needed to take just came natural to him.

He noticed the black robe he had gifted you was thrown on the end of your bed, and he couldn’t help but wonder what you had been wearing underneath it as all he could see was a puff of soft hair above your crimson blanket. He loved that you still loved the color red even after him, sprinkles of Sukuna dusted over your apartment so subtly only he’d be able to notice it. Your red couch, your red blanket, your black clothes and the diamond jewelry you never threw away. All little reminders of him because you couldn’t find it in yourself to move on.

Good.

He moved to your bedside, sitting on the edge of the bed as it sunk under his weight. The silence was filled with your gentle breathing, his dark red eyes looking over the soft rise and fall of your shoulder from where you had scrunched the blanket under your chin. Your eyelashes were cute and wispy, laid over your cheeks as a strand of your hair slid down to your nose.

This scene was so familiar to him; he couldn’t recall how many times he’d snuck in here when you were sleeping just to see you again, in between the weeks he’d knowingly visit you with a bustled lip and bloody nose.

You were beautiful and peaceful, his black claw coming up and ever so softly moving the piece of unruly hair behind your ear. His knuckles dragged on your cheekbone, his jaw clenched as he suddenly felt unsure of himself and the moment he’d just created. He felt almost nervous, him, as powerful and influential as he was, was nervous because of a human, a sorcerer. It was so odd, but then again nothing about your relationship was normal. Still, he couldn’t leave now, he was in too deep at this point.

It was too late for him to question himself however when your eyes sleepily fluttered open, his hand slowly retracting back to his side as he let your awareness kick in.

He gazed into your eyes as they registered him, confused and groggy as you pulled the blanket down away from your mouth, looking up at him questioningly.

Your eyes ran over his face, observing the way his lips frowned and his eyes seemed almost pained, two red dots of light. Your eyes flickered between his in a blurry sleep hazed stare.

“Sukuna? Is something wrong?” You immediately thought the worst, your voice soft and raspy in that way he used to hear when you’d wake up beside him. He wanted those days back, his hand tensing at the sweet sound of you.

You moved the blanket off of you, goosebumps rising on your skin from the cool air. Your arm came up to rub at your eyes, still blurry, anything to help your vision adjust to the darkness (and the situation) around you.

Sukuna’s eyes were drawn to the lacy black tank top you wore, tracing over the curve of your breast from where it had slightly spilled out of the cup. His fist clenched some more, a heat stirring in his tummy that made his eyes darken as they looked back up at your face. It’s been too long since he’d seen them, seen any part of you besides your face and arms. He swore he wasn’t usually so easily affected.

Sukuna waited until you were looking at him again before he spoke, only you beat him to it once more as clarity started to fill your senses at what exactly was happening.

You put a cold hand on his forearm that made his muscle tense, “Is everything okay, why are you in here?” You furrowed your brows at him, voice still soft as it felt unnecessary to speak so loud when he was so close.

Sukuna stared back at you for a moment, hot and intense, a look that had you faltering as your eyes fell to his chin to keep from looking into his. You felt nervous now, way past your initial shock and worry as you were now exposed to him in the tank top you hadn’t intended for him to see.

He looked over your face, eyes noticing how you looked away from him in that shy way you always did. It made him eager to see them again, his need for you overpowering him so quickly he couldn’t think as his hands reached for you. They had missed you just as much.

His right hand gently grabbed your jaw as his left cushioned itself on your pillow and laid you down so he was on top of you, his legs still hanging off the edge of the bed but his larger frame now trapping you underneath him. His muscle was next to your head, his claws poking into your cheeks and you felt your heart stop and then pound frantically in the shell of your ears. You knew he could hear it too, his face hovering over yours as the smell of your body wash wafted into your nose.

Your eyes flickered between his, wide-eyed and in utter shock at the situation that had rapidly occurred. You couldn’t speak, stuttering over words for some kind of question that would formulate what you were thinking into existence. You felt hot and smothered, swallowing down nothing in your dry mouth.

Sukuna looked over your face as though he was inspecting you, eyes slanted and dark, an intensity hidden behind the red flakes of his irises so strong it only made the red seem brighter, burning. You couldn’t help the shakey breath you inhaled, wanting to look away but knowing you couldn’t.

“You love me, don’t you? You still love your King?” Sukuna growled gently, his voice deep and raspy with a very subtle hint of desperation for what your answer could be. His warm breath washed over your lips as he moved your head slightly so it was looking straight at him. You glanced down at his lips, stupidly of course as he noticed when you did it.

You didn’t fight him, a part of you not wanting to as this was a fantasy you’ve only been dreaming about every since you left him. But also because you were so surprised still, his question catching you off guard as you blinked at him stupidly.

What did he expect you to say to that? What did you expect you to say to that? Did you still love him, was he looking for a serious answer or was he just sleep walking? You knew it wasn’t the latter, his viridian eyes piercing into you like he could see the intricate makings of your own mind, hooded with slight purple bags under them. Your breathing was a little harsh, your skin tingling at his proximity as no one had touched you in a very long time and it was something your body (you) craved.

You wanted him to touch you more but wanted him to not touch you at all.

You didn’t know what to tell him and you weren’t sure how seriously you should take it. You didn’t want to say the wrong thing and make him angry, or better yet tell the truth and make him angry. You weren’t sure what would satisfy him, his eyes giving away nothing that could help you as they stared at you, growing irritated with your lack of response.

You don’t know how he expected you to focus when he was staring at you like that.

Do you still love your King? God… you swallowed at that as the phrase made your legs tighten, only slightly so he wouldn’t feel the movement under the blanket. It was completely inappropriate but so was this whole situation, and like you said, it really had been so long without him that your body yearned for him, practically jumping at how close he was to it. All that time away and yet your body had not trained itself to hate him.

You opted for the truth, knowing he could sense if you lied anyway (he always could no matter how hard you tried). You stared back at his eyes and gulped with a very subtle head nod, “I never really stopped…” You uttered, weak and spineless like a field mouse.

Sukuna released a tense breath, his head falling into your neck as he hummed against your skin, almost a purring nose that rattled his throat, his nose rubbing just behind your ear like a doting kitten. That answer seemed to satisfy him enough.

Your eyes closed at the feeling of him so close to you, letting out a stuttering breath. You wanted to reach up and wrap your arms around him, bring him closer to you until all of him laid on top of you. But you knew you shouldn’t interfere with whatever he was doing, you didn’t want to risk ruining whatever this was.

Your hands were tense at your sides as you didn’t know what to do with them, better yet you didn’t want to disturb him. You swallowed another bunch of nerves that fluttered in your belly, an ache forming under your skin as your breathing picked up from just his simple touches, his warm breath brushing over your neck. He was big and warm, laying his chest on top of you and sinking his head into your shoulder like he couldn’t get enough of you.

You wanted more of him too.

You couldn’t deny though that this felt very sudden and weird to you, how all of a sudden he was in your room and asking if you loved him. Did he get into one of your bottles of pain medication? Was he doped up? You couldn’t fathom any other explanation other than inebriety that would justify his uncharacteristic behavior.

Asking you if you loved him, You felt that was a more serious conversation that should be held over coffee in your living room, where both persons were sober and of sound mind, not nearly exposed and drunk on each other in the darkness of your bed with his body surrounding you. You swore his proximity was influencing your thoughts in some way, making them all muddled.

“Hmm, do you have any idea how much I’ve suffered since you left? How weak I felt, how powerless you made me?” He hissed into your neck like he loathed you for it, his hand tightening just a tad around your jaw. He smelt your skin, citrus and something sweet like dove soap that tickled his nose. He could hear your heart beating rapidly underneath your smooth skin, his eyes closed as he relished in your warmness, crazed with want for you but still managing to control himself. You’d be proud of him for not ripping your clothes off like he would’ve done in the past.

You felt his wet hair prickle your cheek as you leaned in just a little bit to him, unable to resist him despite you wanting to.

You frowned at his statement, eyes opening to look at the ceiling, unhappy with the fact that he was in pain but also glad it wasn’t just you.

“Well that’s your own fault, I’m not going to take all the blame. Besides, you weren’t the only one who was hurting, you know.” You scolded rather modestly; hurt didn’t even begin to cover the way he had made you feel even before you left him. He didn’t even know how alone you felt, how unimportant and small he had made you feel. He had no idea of the nights you cried and pleaded to some sort of god to help you make it all work. In the end your efforts were proved pointless when Sukuna never changed, and never even tried to.

You weren’t going to let him make you feel guilty for trying to find something better, you deserved better and you weren’t going to apologize for it. Sukuna may have made you dumber than normal but you weren’t that easy.

Sukuna grit his teeth at the truth lacing your statement, his hand releasing your jaw to slide down your throat, down to your chest, feeling the way your lungs moved and savoring the feel of your soft flesh under his hand. His nails scratched you delicately as he finally stopped and rested his palm right over your heart. It made your body shudder involuntarily, hands clenching at your sides at the warmth his palm resonated onto your beating heart. You swallowed again, eyes nervously flickering over to the back of his head like you could see his face.

“I didn’t want to hurt you, woman. I’m not like that anymore anyway, isn’t that obvious? Don’t you see how I’ve changed for you?” He grumbled against your hot skin, his arm that was on the pillow maneuvering over your head so his hand was by your hair — his fingers toyed with the strands until they were tangled in them. The hand above your heart dug in a little deeper like he wanted to pull it out and squeeze it himself, the rapid thumping vivid against his palm at the way he spoke into your body.

You eyes fluttered shut again, quickly becoming overwhelmed with all the sensations and revelations. Your scalp tingled from the way he gently played with your hair — something he always did with no knowledge of why to you, the sensation dancing down your neck and spine and making your stomach turn pleasurably.

It was starting to get incredibly warm around you, the air buzzing around your bodies and making it harder to breath. You were starting to feel smothered by him and the feelings he brought out of you, yet not completely suffocated by him like you so badly wanted to be.

He didn’t want to hurt you, but he did, he really did. You would say that he had changed somewhat yes, changed in the sense that he wasn’t so vulgar and chaotic as he once was, more silent and self-controlled as maturity usually does to people. But did complex minuscule human concepts such as maturity even affect him anyway? He wasn’t necessarily a human at the end of the day, he wasn’t technically a man with muscle and blood flowing through his own veins, just a passenger in the conduit of another man’s body.

Even if he could change and experience emotional evolution like humans do, how could you say he had when just tonight he was beaten by those same sorcerers he’d been so adamant on destroying a year and a half ago? That didn’t express change nor maturity. Some things do change but a persons motivation only gets stronger; their goals only become shorter. Some things may change but all things do not.

Sukuna took a moment to bring his legs up on the bed, the mattress shaking as he brought them up and laid them out on top of yours. One chiseled leg swung over your thighs and the other snuggled up next to yours, his abdomen throbbing at the movement but he didn’t so much as wince. His full weight was now pushing down on your smaller form, his hips digging into yours and you swore you could feel nothing on him but muscle.

You were glad the blanket separated you from him, you were sure your chest would explode if it was just you and him, skin on skin and heart to heart, breathing the same air and sharing the same space. You guessed you already were, but the blanket felt like some sort of protection from pure intimacy, and this was already plenty enough.

“I want you back with me, I need you with me, forever. Nothing will get between us again, Rosie. I’ll kill anything that tries.” He vowed into your ear with an almost angry growl at just the thought of it. The pet name you held so dear to you made your heart flutter, something he knew when he spoke it.

He lifted his head up again, just enough to look into your eyes but so much closer than he was before — your nose was almost bumping his as he looked at you with such a hungry fierceness you had to clench your fists to control your own self. It was intense, the red of his eyes almost brighter, a dark crimson that swirled like endless pools of blood. The color of love.

You felt this sick glimmer of hope run through you at his words, those damned words you’d wanted to hear for so so long. You looked between his eyes for any semblance of bullshit he might convey, your heart still fragile from heartbreak but just as eager to beat for him again. But then again if you’d listened to your heart you never wouldn’t left him in the first place, you’d still be with that immature curse who so easily threw you to the side when the word power was even mentioned. You had to ignore the ache in your chest for the betterment of your own sanity.

Had he changed from that? Was he really ready to put you first, above anything, above his one true love that you never could compete with? It hurt so much to leave him the first time, you still hadn’t recovered from it. You couldn’t imagine the pain that would come from leaving him a second time.

You were scared now, the silence of the room buzzing in your ears, the shadows reflecting the gentle snowfall from your window as you just stared at him, your reflection in his pupils. You wanted so badly to ignore the past and move on to the future, embrace a new chapter for the both of you, but lessons are learned from past mistakes and they shouldn’t be ignored when the same problem comes running back pleading for forgiveness. It would be foolish to do that.

You wanted him to love you, you wanted to be his everything, you wanted to be his priority but the promise of that seemed too easily spoken given the circumstance.

You shook your head at him, your eyes burning at the notion that this was all some sick lie for him to have you at his beck and call again. You couldn’t handle the heartbreak and humiliation if this was some twisted scheme.

“I want that, too…” You whispered to him, your voice cracking with a particular sadness you didn’t care to hide. You saw the way his eyes looked between yours, how they registered the glossiness of tears threatening to fall. Yes, he did hate it when you cried.

“…But how am I supposed to know you’re telling the truth? How am I supposed to trust you again after everything? I don’t want to say yes and then you’re back to being the same way you were before. I do love you, I love you so much…” You said shakily as you brought your hands up from under the blanket. You put them over his muscled arm that was still laid on your chest, one hand over his and the other grasping his wrist. You squeezed his arm for emphasis, his eyes flickering down to where you held onto him like you didn’t want him to leave (you didn’t).

“But I’m terrified to come back to you and be second to your crown like I always was. If I come back to you, then it needs to be me and you, nothing in between. I want you to love me as greatly as I love you, and as equally. I’m not going to be your second choice anymore, Sukuna, I can’t.” You felt tears slide down your cheeks from each eye and soak into your pillow, a broken whisper in your voice that sounded desperate and pleading, absolutely pitiful, your throat thick and earnest with emotion.

Sukuna felt his jaw clench as the tears rolled down your cheeks, a hatred for himself burning in his lungs at how he did this to you. He didn’t ever like hurting you, which was painfully ironic to him. He found himself not caring about anything other than you in this moment, feeling his own self get choked up at the pain he caused you.

He was hurting too but he could only imagine how much you’ve been hurting. It made him feel awful, so guilty, regret bubbling under his skin. He never wanted you to feel like this again, just the thought of power a small blip in his mind that got smaller the closer he got to you.

He brought his hand down from above your head, his eyes conveying such seriousness you’d never saw before in them, and brought it down to your cheek. It was a sweet gesture, a small one to make up for the tears he gave you. His thumb gently wiped away at the tear sliding down from the corner of your eye, claw tickling your cheekbone as he cupped the side of your face in his warm palm.

You stared up at him as he did, sniffling slightly, your eyes tired and so pathetically heart wrenching as you leaned into the comforting touch of his hand.

“Baby… You’re mine and you’re the only thing I want in this wretched world. If I don’t have you then I have nothing. I crave you… in ways power could never satisfy me. I crave you… in ways your mortal mind could never even imagine…” He rumbled deep and genuine, hungry and primal, his fangs poking out from behind his lips as he spoke. He meant it too, meant it more than you’d ever comprehend. He looked into your eyes as he leaned closer towards you, his nose bumping yours as a small smile graced your lips at his proclamation.

He craved you… not nearly as much as you did him.

Your thighs tightened under the blanket at the raspy, guttural voice of which he spoke, dangerously enticing and lustful in the worst of times. Still, you couldn’t hide your shame as you looked at his lips with that same desire swirling in your tummy at the way he looked at you. You couldn’t help it, he affected you so easily and he always did. Him and that voice, him and those eyes. You couldn’t handle it sometimes.

You wanted him now, wanted him badly, wanted him to bleed those words into you with desperate action. His response did nothing to tame your desire as your hands squeezed around his arm in anticipation, a gleeful feeling twinkling in your heart that made the smile glow on your face.

Sukuna stroked your cheek softly some more, admiringly, as he leaned his head closer to yours, the hand over your heart turning around to intertwine your fingers in his. He squeezed your hand. It was so wholesome and pure and it made your heart jump, your fingers tightening around his own in response as your free hand went up to his cheek.

You swallowed as you both stared at each other for a moment; you felt like you could melt. You grazed your thumb over his cheekbone, tracing the black marking under your hand lovingly.

Sukuna leaned closer to you, his breath warm on your lips. He leaned into your hand, cocking his head into it as he relished in the feeling of your skin on his warm cheek. His hair was still damp, your chest breathless as you waited for him to close the distance between his lips and yours like you wanted him to, knowing he was going to anyway with the way he looked between your lips and your eyes with equal longing.

“You’re my sweet Rosie.” He whispered deeply and sincerely into the night before finally pressing his lips to yours in a hot, heartfelt kiss that spared him the need to express himself over spoken word.

You closed your eyes and sunk under the mattress as he laid his full weight on you, collapsing into you as though you sucked the soul out of him, a moan sounding from your throat as another tear fell from your eye, only for a different reason entirely. Your hand that was on his cheek reached behind his head and crawled into his damp hair, grasping the pink locks and holding his lips against you so he couldn’t leave.

He growled lowly into your mouth at the sharp feeling, his skin lit ablaze as a pleasurable stir pulled at his lower stomach.

He wanted you, wanted you so bad, wanted to rip your clothes off and feel your tight pussy squeeze around his cock until it was gushing around him. He missed that feeling, craved it more than air. But even he could feel that tonight was different; he didn’t just want to fuck you. He wanted to show his love and appreciation to you in the best way he knew how. He wanted to feel every inch of your skin pulsing against his, feel your lips on him and your hand in his as the both of you chose to forget everything that happened before the moment he came inside you. He wanted to make love to you.

His hand that was intertwined with yours pulled them up to the top of your head so he could get closer to you, his other hand gliding down from your chest until it was at the rim of your black tank top — it was the black lacy one, another thing he’d bought for you and a detail he didn’t overlook.

He didn’t rip it off quite yet, sucking your tongue into his mouth as his sharp teeth ran against it, his hand squeezing yours from above your head. You couldn’t help the small moan that sounded at the painful, pleasurable tingle that had Sukuna pressing his hardening cock into you from over the blanket. He always loved your sounds, loved the way you cried his name and moaned out more, more, more.

Sukuna pulled himself away with his lips wet, already wanting to put them back on you. He panted against you hard and slow, fangs bared as his eyes roamed your face. The flush of your cheeks and your glimmering eyes, so gorgeous with your hair fanned out beneath you, all his once again. You looked back at him, your eyes hooded and your lips puffy and pink, glimmering with shared saliva.

“Take off your top or I’ll rip it off.” He breathed aggressively into your mouth, nose bumping into yours as his hand clutched the black fabric between his sharp nails.

You looked down at your top when he mentioned it, too distracted to really care about anything besides him and thought of what his lips felt like on yours. You were too far gone now, any remnants of sadness having melted away and just as quickly replaced with salacious want, wanting, needing him to just put his lips back on yours for another kiss that had been long overdue.

You looked back up at him with panting breaths, fingers clutching his hair as the space between you felt too long and cold without his mouth in the way of it. Your eyes met his again, the both of you greedy for more and each one of you as hopelessly devoted as the other. You had a feeling it would stay that way this time.

“Then rip it off…” You sighed wantonly, voice thick and raspy as you pushed his face back down to yours with no chance of a word between.

His hand squeezed your much smaller one, the tips of his nails prickling your skin as you swore you heard him snarl against your mouth. You groaned hotly as his tongue tangled with yours in that expert way only he knew you liked, your hips pushing up against his growing cock shamelessly.

The thick red duvet, which was once a form of protection for you just a few minutes ago, was now only an irritating nuisance keeping you and the object of your desires separated. You maneuvered your feet and sloppily kicked it down until it slid off your knees, the cold air hitting your bare legs as Sukuna’s leg pressed up into your inner thighs.

Sukuna gripped the rim of your top and quickly ripped it down the middle with barely any strength, the straps snapping off your shoulders as you inhaled sharply from the slight sting of it. You arched your back into him, lips still moving fervently against each others as he crumbled the frail material in his hands and tossed it somewhere; it slid off your skin smoothly.

Your bare chest and stomach were now exposed to him yet you felt no insecurity; you never did when it came to Sukuna, he always made you feel desired in his own way and that was enough to show you he loved you.

Sukuna kissed you one more time, bringing your bottom lip into his mouth and slowly sucking on it, his fangs piercing into your skin as he licked the sting away. You whined as he ensured to look at you while he did it, obsessed with the way your eyes fluttered and your hand tightened in his hair. He seperated from you finally after a moment, your lip popping back into place.

The erotica of it all made your core clench around nothing, a wetness filling your lower lips that made it almost wrongful that nothing was down there to fill it yet. Sukuna felt the effects of you as well, his cock pressing into your black shorts hard and eager. You were well aware of it but Sukuna was doing so good at distracting you from it, she was well aware of it.

Sukuna immediately brought his hands down to your breasts once they were freed, looking down at the way the soft globes of flesh molded into his hands and jiggled when he moved them. They were soft and smooth and spilled between his fingers so beautifully. He had missed them so fucking much, almost having forgotten what they felt like in his hands. He clenched his jaw and groaned, groaned, as he scooted down towards them, licking his lips as he squeezed them in his big hands.

“Nngh — that feels good, baby…” You sighed at the pleasurable sensation shooting through you as he played with your titties, your nipples sensitive as always, as he knew. His claws dug into your skin as he squeezed them harder, your hips jerking up instinctively as a shock ran through you. Your stomach was twisted, your pussy so needy and sobbing between your thighs as he nibbled on your collarbone.

“Yeah, feels good, pretty girl?” He rumbled into your skin, licking and mouthing at your chest as he rubbed your breasts in slow circles, applying pressure as he did. Your chest was covered in wet marks and pink circles, your hands somehow having found their way on top of Sukuna’s, holding his hands there as he rubbed them.

“I love these tits, they’re mine aren’t they? They always were.” He hissed, voice grumbling like fallen mountain rocks as he slid down your body a little more, his cock rubbing on the skin of your thigh and it was only now you realized he was naked. Had he come in your room that way? Who cares, you were just waiting for the moment you were too.

“Mmhmm, unghh — they always were.” You mumbled in a pleasure induced haze as you arched your back into him, your head thrown back into your silky red pillows and eyes closed as your thighs tightened around his leg. His hands slid down to your waist as yours found their way to his broad shoulders.

“That’s fucking right they were…” He kissed the valley of your breasts, licking your skin and grazing his fangs in a way that made your body flutter; you felt so good already, so good and weightless from his big hands and sharp lips alone. He was always so good at touching you, knowing every nerve and knowing how to pinpoint each one that made you a messy, needy puddle underneath him; he specialized in the art of your pleasure, an expert in the waves of your body in a way you weren’t even in tune with it.

Finally, finally, he slid his head over and licked a stripe up to your nipple, sucking it into his mouth like it wasn’t hard enough. You moaned rather loudly, your hands flying up to his hair and rubbing anything you touched in a mindless act of delicious satisfaction. He groaned into your skin at the way you clawed at his hair like a desperate slut, licking and sucking on your nipple as his hand went and rubbed the other one, fingertips and claws circling your other nipple that made sweet tingles pebble onto your hot skin.

His eyes flickered up to you, looking up at your parted lips and your eyes squeezed shut, feeling his cock throb with need to feel you around him already. He was hard, so painfully hard, stuffed between your thigh and his. He liked seeing you like this though, liked seeing the effect he had on you and hearing how you whined for him. He wanted to be buried inside you already, so deep you believed the tip of his cock was pressing into your guts. But he liked this better, a cruel part of him still wanting to tease your sweet pussy just a little longer until you were so needy for him he could see it staining your shorts.

He wasn’t going to wait too long though, it had been too long since he was balls deep in that tight pussy; even a man (thing) as strong as Sukuna had his limits, already bursting at the seams.

His hand eagerly slid down your stomach, pushing past your shorts as your legs widened for him. You bit your lip, hips chasing his hand as he crawled his way down… down… down…

You moaned shamelessly and sweetly as his long, lithe middle finger split down the middle of your lower lips, your wetness leaking down his finger and dripping down to his palm as the smell of your arousal hit his sharp nose. He clenched his jaw, lips twisting into a primal growl at the sweet smell of it. God, it was better than anything on this earth, and he couldn’t believe he was almost going to live a lifetime without it.

“Oh my god! Oh my god…” You panted, voice high pitched and pathetically whiney as you desperately grasped at his chiseled shoulders with rapacious hands.

He picked his head up, fingers sliding out of your shorts and leaving a stick white trail up to your waist. His eyes glowed a deep red in the darkness, now looking up at your face, your breasts covered in purple stains and teeth marks.

“Not god, Rosie. Me, only me. I missed this pussy baby… so wet for me like I knew you’d be… my pretty girl… you’re mine forever, I’ll kill anything that tries to take you from me.” He exclaimed possessively, his voice thick with love and a burning hunger that scratched at his throat. He was full of danger and promise, your hands scratching at his shoulders as his exclamation only seemed to make you wetter for him.

“I only wanna be yours anyway…” You mumbled back wistfully, any thought crossing your mind carelessly said out loud as you gazed down at his eyes. You had mentioned he made your thoughts all muddle together. Your skin buzzed with electricity like the workings of a light bulb, your heart pumping in your ears and your skin pasty with sweat already.

You couldn’t stop moving your fingers across Sukuna’s skin — he shivered at the feeling, any muscle you could touch that could’ve been carved from a dotiing gods chisel as far as you knew. You were too alive to keep still, bursting with love and unabashed lechery that had your pussy aching for him.

You both shared a tender look, your hand coming around and grazing his cheek delicately as you gazed drunkenly into his eyes. He cocked his head into your palm, reaching up and laying a sweet kiss on your chin, his pink hair tickling your lips. You smiled at that, putting a finger under his chin and jolting his mouth up so you could give him a peck.

He licked his lips after you did, his eyes staring at your mouth before giving you another sweet kiss that lasted a few short seconds before he was looking into your eyes again.

“I love you, pretty.” He said so quietly anybody else would’ve never heard him.

You could hear the earnestness in his baritone voice, your hands coming up to cup both his cheeks. You were so proud of him for being so uncharacteristically open, vulnerable. You knew how hard it was for him to be that way, which only made it all the more special to you that he was. It was a small detail that convinced you he loved you. You felt your heart swell with a gorge of emotion for him. He felt the same. You admired the black markings on his face, his lower set of eyes closed as you ran your thumbs over his cheekbones.

“I love you too, stupid.” You responded wholeheartedly, a faint whisper shared between you for his ears only. You gave him one last kiss before he slid back down and starting mouthing at your jaw.

You sunk further into the pillows as you sighed pleasurably at the way he kissed your body, hands ruffled in his hair once more as he trailed further and further down until he was licking down your stomach. You didn’t wait for him as you brought your hands down and hooked your thumbs into the edges of your shorts, wiggling out of them so he didn’t have to do it for you. You kicked them off your feet, the soft plop of them hitting the floor falling on deaf ears as you were finally, truly exposed to him now.

Sukuna glanced up at you before sliding all the way down, his abdomen dully throbbing at the way he was bent over the edge of the bed. He groaned hungrily at the sight of your pussy, glistening with white, sticky strings of arousal that even shined on your inner thighs.

His dick throbbed at the sight of it, his mind already filled with ideas of how good you were going to feel wrapped around him.

He brought his hand down from your hip, shamelessly running it over your wet lips as his claw grazed the hood of your clit. Your thighs jolted at that as you panted above him, releasing soft, airy moans as you waited for him to do something, anything to you.

“So perfect…” He growled, his index finger joining his middle as he scissored your lips open, a wet sticky sound separating them as he gazed upon your clenching, glistening hole and puffy, pretty clit. It was even more beautiful than he remembered, his two fingers sliding down your insides and messily spreading your wetness around.

It was a sickly wet sound that sounded in the room, your cheeks a bashful pink as your hands grasped the sheets.

Sukuna’s mouth watered, rubbing your wetness around some more as his claw circled your tight hole. He watched as a glob of wetness dripped out to the crack of your ass, staining the sheet below. Your legs jerked as you whined, “Sukuna…”

He took his hand off of you, your stomach painfully twisted like a rubber band bound to break at any fragile moment as you slumped in disappointment at the loss of his hands on you. He brought his two fingers into his mouth and tasted you again after a year and a half of being starved. He groaned quietly at the taste, sweet and bitter as he licked your arousal off his fingers. Usually he’d finger you, but his nails were too sharp and too long for that now. He’d have to remember to cut them off later on.

“Taste so good, Rosie.” He uttered gutturally, a crazed man almost as his hands rubbed at your inner thighs and spread you open just bit more for him.

You gulped down a dry throat, your hands pulling at his pink hair again as he licked and nibbled at your thighs, his thumb massaging the other one his mouth wasn’t able to be on. Your pussy was practically screaming at this point, begging for his mouth, his lips, his tongue, his cock, anything to just relieve the pain throbbing through your whole lower area. You’d never felt this needy before, broken down to a wailing, horny mess that needed to be filled more than anything.

“Please, please, I want it already…” You babbled nonsensically, hands grabbing at the strands of his hair and pulling his head closer to your pussy so he’d get the hint. It was shameless and desperate but you didn’t care, you needed him.

He smiled wickedly at that, the sting on his scalp making his spine tingle. He was pleased with the way you begged for it without him even having to ask, not that he’d make you do it this time, he wanted this just as much as you did.

He glanced up at your twisted face, ruined with pleasure he was giving you, before he looked back down at your slick womanhood. The moon barely shined down on its full glory, he thought, gladly anticipating the moment he’d see it in the day. He slid his hands up your thighs and hooked his thumbs onto your lips, spreading them wide open so he could see your insides clearly.

You bit your lip, thighs helplessly tightening around his arms as he stared it, entranced, for a few short moments. He salivated at the sight like a starved man looking at a four course meal. You were tastier than that.

He moved forward and licked a confidant stripe up the expanse of your spread pussy, tasting your arousal on his tongue as it dripped down the corners of his lips. He moaned into you at the taste, licking up and down with a broad tongue for a few moments before he had to pull away and taste you again.

You squealed, keening and shaking, arching your back and digging your heels into the bed at the way your core pulsed waves of indescribable pleasure through your legs. You felt breathless and dizzy, clenching around air as his spit dribbled down your opening.

Sukuna leaned his head back, licking his lips as he swallowed the mix of saliva and wetness pooled on his tongue. His eyes closed in ecstasy, already thirsty for more as he growled, shoving his head back into your pussy and sucking on your clit, the slick sounds of you loud in your ears; you were almost embarrassed at how wet he had made you.

Your thighs closed around his head when the sensations became too much, squeezing around his ears as your mouth opened in querulous gasps and cries. His hands had wrapped themselves around your legs at some point or another, his veins throbbing and muscles flexing as he relatively tried to keep your bucking hips pinned down.

You wished you could see how could he looked from between your legs, but you couldn’t focus on one single thing, your mind a scrambled mess. Your thighs shook uncontrollably, an orgasm already chipping away at your tummy from how sensitive you were.

“Oh! Ahh, baby!” You yelled in a high pitch, both of your hands gripping the sheets so hard your knuckles were white. You heard the snap of the sheet flying off the corner of the bed, curling in itself as another corner popped off. Your stomach tensed as he licked down again, his tongue thrusting into your hole until your wetness was glistening over his cheeks. He groaned into you, the vibrations shaking your soul as his nose rubbed against your wet clit.

It had been so so long since you’ve had this, you missed it and you missed him.

It was vulgar and nasty, just the way he liked it as his spit mixed with your glossy wetness, sliding down until the sheets were soaked in a dark patch of saliva and arousal. You tasted so good he couldn’t even describe it, his eyes closed still as he relished in the taste of you smeared over his tongue, sliding down his chin and dripping onto the bed as he made an absolute mess out of you.

You couldn’t breath, throat dry as cracked moans left parted lips. You were panting as your stomach tightened and tightened and tightened… and with a few more eager licks you felt it snap, a long moan drowning out his lustful groan as a flood of wetness gushed into his mouth and splashed on his cheeks.

Your thighs shook horribly, your skin beating off and on like a flashing light as your heart pounded in your head, sweat beading at your hairline. You came much quicker than you usually would have, but it’d been so long without Sukuna that your arousal had no where to go during this past year, building up inside you, waiting for the day he would come back and shatter the wall holding it all together.

You breathed heavily, the room hot and stuffy as your body slumped down into the mattress like the life had been drained from your veins. Your hands released their tight grip on the sheet as your body patiently calmed itself down.

Your orgasm dripped down Sukuna’s chin as he took his mouth off you, looking up at your tired face with heavy eyes and slow breaths. His eyes ran over your face and body, covered in his teeth marks and hickies he’d littered over your skin. Yes, you were his and he had proven it, a small, adoring smirk quirking on his mouth.

He licked the remnants of your orgasm off his lips, unhooking his arms from around your thighs and wiping his mouth off with the back of his hand. He kissed your thighs one last time before crawling up your body, your skin glowing with happiness and sweat. He took his time to kiss your skin as he went, savoring the feeling of it under his lips. Your legs jolted unevenly in the aftershock, your mind so hazy and jumbled you felt disconnected from reality altogether, barely conscious to the way he dotted loving kisses up your body.

Sukuna kissed his way up your stomach, up your chest, careful not to do too much that could frazzle you anymore as he let you find yourself again. He nuzzled his face into your neck once he worked himself all the way up your body, his hands tenderly gliding up your sides until they were grabbing at your midsection.

The same hands he’d used to kill thousands of men now holding you between them yet you knew you were in no real danger. He massaged the skin under his palms, feeling your heart beat rapidly under his head as he couldn’t care less about the sweat clinging to your skin.

“You’re all right, pretty…” He uttered into your neck, kissing your damp skin dotingly as you took deep breaths to steady yourself.

You brought a hand up and clumsily tangled it in his hair, grounding yourself to him as you lightly rubbed his head in an effort to comfort yourself — his pink locks now dry but his scalp damp with sweat. You inhaled deeply, exhaling just as focused as your heart began to slow once more and your legs stopped twitching.

You both waited a few moments in amorous silence, his hands softly stroking your sides as he rested his head on your shoulder, patiently waiting for you to come back to him again.

You hummed when you felt calm enough, his fingers sparking tingles up and down your body that had your pussy clenching once more. You turned your head towards him and kissed his hair to grab his attention, needy once more and not too proud to beg.

Sukuna perked his head up at the action, his hand trailing up your body and coming up to your face, looking as a strand of hair fell out of place and dusted over your eyelash. He didn’t hesitate to move it out the way with his nail, tucking it behind your ear in a corny romantic way that made your heart flutter. His gaze was heavy and warm-hearted as he looked back into your eyes, your other hand coming up and loosely grabbing his wrist as his hand settled on the crook of your jaw.

You leaned closer to him and he didn’t shy away, eyes looking all over your face before settling on the ravenous look in your dazzling eyes; it was subtle, swirling behind your love for him but like he said he knew you better than you knew yourself. It made his lip quirk at how quickly you seemed to recover from your orgasm already.

“I want you...” You mumbled piteously with an adorable pout on your lips as you pressed them almost against his. Your hand clutched a little tighter in his hair, leg nudging into his as you turned towards him with a new fervor striking through your loins. It had been too long without him and your body knew it, your pussy knowing how close he was to finally giving her the one thing she’d wanted for so long.

His eyes glistened with gluttonous understanding and recognition at your tone, his eyes hooded and slanted and dark. It was a piercing gaze, all consuming and vigorous at the realization that you wanted just what he wanted, just a much.

He hummed sensually at that, “oh yeah? What else you want?” He grumbled lustfully, his eyes flickering between the way you looked at him and your lips, still swollen from all the times he nibbled them just minutes ago. You didn’t fight when he pushed you down to hover over you again, a hand cupping your cheek as his sharp thumb nail ran over the plushness of your lips.

You sighed sweetly, looking at his mouth, “I want you to fuck me already.”

He clenched his jaw at your words, his cock so so so painfully hard as it stood up against his abdomen, leaking out a bead of pre cum that dribbled down the length of him.

You noticed the way his eyes almost rolled to the back of his head at your dirty words, biting your lip as you slowly stroked your hand down his broad chest, down to his abs where you were careful to avoid the bandage there, then trickling down to where the head of his cock was. You didn’t touch it yet, just felt his body shudder at the way you ran your nail against his skin like an innocent vixen.

He looked at you, shattered, like he could crack at any second as his hands clenched into the pillow under each side of your head. He wanted to see what you’d do; he’d always liked when you got cocky like this, your confidence a huge turn on for the otherwise dominant man. You batted your eyelashes at him cutely, finger softly swirling random shapes into his skin just above his leaking tip.

“I want you to make me yours again…” You sighed, daring to look into his eyes as you moved your hand down and ran the tip of your finger up the underside of his hard cock, tracing the familiar vein there.

Sukuna groaned then, a mix of a hot moan and a powerless rumble, almost collapsing on top of you as the strength in his arms faltered. Sparks ran through his cock, sharp and pleasurable and needing more.

You smiled at him as his eyes flashed to you, the fury burning in them the last thing you saw before he was kissing you desperately, messy and hot, his breath hitting your tongue and his teeth clashing against yours as his big arms fell around you, his larger body swallowing you whole.

You mewled into him, arms swinging around his neck as you wrapped your legs around his thighs, hips pushing up into him, so eager and wet already.

“You want my cock, huh? How badly do you want it?” He hissed into your mouth, his hand going down and resting on your tummy, feeling the warmth of your skin on his palm.

You whined, “so bad… I want it so bad.” You were way past trying to seem cute, now a mess, a mess he made you that ached for him so bad it physically hurt. You didn’t have the patience anymore, you wanted him deep inside you, so deep it hurt your insides but you’d still beg for more like the good girl you were for him.

He moaned heavily at that, moaned, the sound making a wave of arousal gush out of you as your legs tightened around him. He brought the hand down that was on your tummy and wrapped it around his throbbing cock, sighing at the slight relief it brought him as he sloppily grabbed it and positioned it between your legs.

He felt eager and greedy as he messily ran his thick tip through your soaking wet folds a few times, gathering your wetness on him as he used his hand to spread it all along his length. You and him both stared down at him, your pussy clenching as you dug your nails into his forearms, impatiently watching for him to push it in already.

A year and half without him, a year and half without his perfect, pretty cock, a year and half of waiting for this exact moment and now it was finally here. It was almost surreal, your eyes blinking as you bit your lip, trying to muff the moan that wanted to sound at just the sight of his dick you’d missed so fucking much. It was just as big and long as you remembered, smothered with white strings of your shared arousal.

Sukuna looked back up at you, gripping his cock in his hand with his eyes dark and primal. You whimpered, nails digging into his skin.

“Kiss me.” He ordered huskily. You did, pushing his head down to you and slipping your tongue in his mouth.

During the kiss, Sukuna positioned his cock head at your entrance, pushing past your slick until he was prodding at your hole. You whined, legs tightening around him to push him inside you further. He groaned into your mouth, hot and needy, as he pushed it inside you and stretched out your hole to fit his size. You both moaned together at the indescribable feeling of him slowly pushing his full length into you, of him filling you up and of you squeezing him into your tight heat.

“Fuck… you’re so tight, baby. This pussy’s hungry for me, isn’t she? She missed her King just as much as you, didn’t she?” He snarled against your lips, absolutely feral as your tightness squeezed him, so warm and hot and taking him in so smoothly. He had missed this feeling so fucking much, spent so many nights with his dick in his fist at the memory of your sweet pussy.

You gasped against his mouth, your arms swinging around his back and digging into the muscle there. You felt so full, your toes curling already as you threw your head back on your pillow. Pleasure, pure pleasure in a form you only ever experienced with him pulsed through your body as deep as your bone marrow.

Sukuna slid halfway out, the friction you caused making him hiss between his teeth as he thrusted back in. He wasn’t quick, savoring in the feeling of you around him as your wetness gushed out from around him and wet his thighs.

“Ahh, oh my god, I’ve wanted this for so long!” You gasped breathlessly, voice broken as you moaned against his lips, blood bubbling around your fingernails from how hard they dug into him.

He stared down at you with his lips twisted in pleasure, watching your face closely as he slid in and out, the light smacking sound your wetness made every time he thrusted back in only motivating him to fuck you a bit faster.

Your titties bounced softly from the movement, muscles tensing as your lips parted open and tears prickled at your eyes. Sukuna couldn’t talk, couldn’t even think straight besides the fact you felt so fucking good, his legs tight with every push back in he struggled to make because of your tightness. He hadn’t fucked you in so long your pussy wasn’t quite used to him yet. Don’t fret, he was going to enjoy stretching it back out to accustom him again.

He was soft and sweet against you as you both just let yourselves embrace this long overdue moment, careful not to squeeze too hard as his hands found their place on your waist again. He wasn’t squeezing so hard it’d hurt, just hard enough you could feel his longing for you thrumming under his fingertips; oceans of his love connecting you and him through subtle currents of yearning touches and soft kisses.

This was so unfamiliar to you — unfamiliar but very much welcomed. You felt smothered and sweaty, fingers digging into his back muscles and lips locked with his as he pressed himself against you. But it still wasn’t enough; you pressed him harder against you, begging for more, more, more.

Sukuna was supposed to be evil and terrible; he broke your heart once and he just might do it again but who were you to judge him when you enabled him? Who were you to hate him when you brought this on yourself? All you could do was trust him as he was all you had, all you wanted. He just might break your heart again but you’d let him if it meant he’d come back like this every time to put you two back together. Without him you were nothing, you weren’t whole, and without you he wasn’t anything either.

You moaned against his lips at a particularly deep thrust inside you, his hands on yours thighs now as his claws dug into your skin so painfully good you knew you would wake up with the bruised marks of his love carved into you.

“Ahh, Rosie. My Rosie…” He breathed into your neck deep and husky, sinking his fangs into your shoulder with his own stomach in hopeless knots at the way you so snugly wrapped him. He couldn’t believe he ever let this pussy leave him, how he functioned so long without it, but he supposed he didn’t really function, he was just good at pretending.

He felt you gush around his cock again with a sweet moan on his ear, his hands moving up your body and gliding up your back. He wrapped his arms around yours, holding your face to his so he could hear every little gasp and whimper that left your pretty lips for him.

You moaned into his neck, relishing in the closeness he gave you. He felt so good and deep, buried in your guts as your tits rocked against his chest with every movement.

His wounds were sore, so sore and painful, but god he couldn’t stop and he wouldn’t, he needed more of you, all of you. He wasn’t going to stop until you were creaming around his cock like you used to.

He was a greedy man, never denied that fact nor questioned it. He was greedy and selfish, wanted you or nothing at all, wanted everything you’d give him and he’d happily take it like the greedy creature he was.

If loving Sukuna made you selfish so be it, if loving him made you foolish so be it. You’d be foolish and selfish if it meant he’d never let you go again. You’d take that risk, you’d risk your sanity if it meant he’d stay inside you forever, bonded with you and stuck to you; I’m yours as long as you are mine.

And as he came inside you with a hefty groan into your neck as he squeezed you into him, it only confirmed that fact as you came around him just a short moment after; I’m yours as long as you are mine… maybe I’ll always be yours anyway.

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sophsstarsxm · 5 months ago

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I wrote to you

1950s AU you father forced you to leave Ellie. Now a month before your wedding you stand at her door step.

Content: Homophobia, use of Y/n, story takes place a little after ww2, lmk if i missed anything!!

so inspired by the notebook.

wc: 681

Masterlist here!!!

It had been two years since you’ve seen Ellie. Ever since your father found out that you and Ellie had been more than just “best friends” he sent you away to the Hamptons and made you spend every day volunteering at the local church for three months, that was until you met Dan. Daniel had served time in the war and was persistent on taking you out to dinner. You liked Dan but something was missing, he wasn’t her. Your father was more than pleased to hear about Daniel and even more pleased to hear about his inheritance you and him will be getting once he marries. Now you’re laying in bed, in the middle of the night. It’s a month before the big wedding but you just can’t shake the awful feeling you have. You should be happy, I mean your father is getting what he wants and will finally look you in the eyes again, and you do love Dan so what’s up? what is keeping you from being completely happy? It’s Ellie. it’s always been Ellie. As you lay awake you wonder how she’s doing now, how Joel is, if she still works as a millworker. Somehow, you remembering ellie at 12am, a month before your wedding has led you to drive back down to South Carolina the next morning, and right to Ellie’s front porch. You stood there frozen, not knowing whether to knock or just cower back to your car and drive back to the Hamptons to marry your fiancé. You didn’t have to make a choice as you heard a familiar voice behind you. “y/n?” you spin around to see Ellie covered in dirt wearing a white wife beater and jeans with those boots that used to trail mud everywhere and drive you crazy. “Ellie.” you said, unsure of how to explain why you’re at her door. “This was stupid, i shouldn’t have come” you panicked, stomping your pink little heels down the porch steps and to your car. “hold on now, wait a minute.” Ellie stepped in front of you. “You mean to say you drove all the way down here to say this was stupid and leave?” you stood there, dumbfounded. You weren’t sure how to respond so you just stood there, tail between your legs. Ellie took a few steps towards you “i don’t hear from you for two years and you just come down here out of the blue?” Ellie says. You furrow your brows “I didn’t write to you because you didn’t write to me, Ellie” You said, voice strong but your eyes said something different by the way tears were threatening to spill from them. “i wrote to you, everyday, for a year” Ellie said, holding eye contact. She wrote to you? You had checked your mailbox every morning, even on Sundays when the post office was closed and still nothing. Ellie had noticed your fragile state and asked you to sit down on the porch steps to talk, and you did. you talked about how mad your father was when he found out, how you had to leave without saying goodbye. You talked about Daniel and showed Ellie the shinny large diamond on your left hand. But most of all, you told her why you came back, and why she’s been plaguing you the most these past nights. “Wow you, uh, you really got your life planned out huh?” Ellie said. The corner of your lips twist up but not at her comment rather more on hearing her speak “Yeah, i do” Ellie stared at you for a moment, her hand playing with her pinky finger like she usually does when she’s nervous. Suddenly she dropped her fingers and pulled you in for a hug. “i’m proud” was all she said. Her touch brought a sense of familiarity and clarity that dug inside you, woven deep into your heart and the skin of your soul. You didn’t know it then that she would consume your every waking hour again and you’ll let her.

#ellie tlou #books #my fic #fic writing #fluff #1950s #tlou #tlou2 #ellie the last of us #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie williams #ellie x y/n

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miss-oranje-disco-dancer · 10 months ago

Text

heart-shaped pancakes

pairing: chris redfield x reader

cw: dd/lg, age gap, p in v, oral, alcohol, breeding kink, daddy kink

a/n: i'm sorry i couldn't do sweet sex like i did w leon (chris does something to me). anyway, i imagine this as re8 chris, but also maybe a lil bit of di/vendetta chris.

wc: 4.1k

Chris shouldn’t be as surprised as he is when you broach the subject to him. He’s pushing 50 and you’re barely 21. Daddy issues. Neither of you grew up with present fathers, and maybe that’s what makes you the perfect match. He can be the man his father never was, he can be the man your father never was, Chris can be your daddy.

You’re tipsy off Ciroc and lemonade - you can order top-shelf liquor since you drink on Chris’dime. Chris tries not to drink too much because he has to supervise you. He practically carries you out of the bar when he decides you’ve had enough. You can pout and cross your arms at him all you want, but he won’t budge. He struggles not to laugh at you because you look silly when you’re being stubborn. Other patrons probably already think he’s your father.

When you get into the car, he buckles you in while you babble all your complaints. “You’re so strict. I was just having fun.”

“I’m trying to protect you,” he says, hand on the gearshift because he’s taking you home despite your protests.

“Okay, dad.” You roll your eyes. Chris can hear it, even though his eyes are on the road. “Sorry, I mean, Daddy,” you say, half-laughing because you’re half-joking. Only half. You’re half entirely fucking serious. Chris almost crashes the car on the way out of the parking lot.

“Think you’re funny, don’t you?” He’s amused, not aroused according to his brain wherein his better judgment lies. His brain’s not the only organ in his body responsible for his decision making. Blame all the bad decisions on his dick.

“No, I think you like it,” You taunt. He can feel your eyes studying him. You’re oddly perceptive. It almost disturbs him sometimes. “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy,” you say, all sing-songy - thank God it wasn’t karaoke night. “Daddy’s making me go home because I’m his baby girl, and baby girls can’t stay up past bedtime.”

It’s the voice that really gets him. All breathy and light. Sharp inhale, long exhale. Do not play her games. He needs it tattooed on him Memento-style.

“Don’t distract Daddy while he’s driving.” It shuts you up. Neither of you are sure how committed he is to playing the part. His voice is stern - and not quite in the ‘Daddy’s going to spank you’ way. He’s being serious. Either way, you’ve written the word ‘Daddy’ in every corner of his mind in bold Sharpie lettering. He can’t get away from it.

Chris deposits the car keys on the counter and flops down onto the couch with a sigh. You stand there, waiting, looking lost in your own home. Chris raises his eyebrows at you and pats his lap. “Come here,” he says, looking smug now that he’s gained the upper hand.

You scurry across the room and sit in his lap awkwardly like you’re taking a picture with Santa Claus and telling him what you want.

“Do you think we need to have a talk about what you said back there in the car?”

You try to squirm away, but he has a firm grip on your hips. His voice in your ear is still mocking, but his lips are sweet from your cherry-flavored chapstick. From when? Memories blend together when you're lost in the smell of his cologne.

“I was just trying to provoke you.”

“Provoke me to do what?” Yeah, exactly. You’re caught, sweet cheeks. “Did you accidentally reveal a little secret about yourself?” His face is nuzzled into your neck now and he places a kiss to the nape. It’s so unfair, he already has you in his grasp, now all he needs is a confession.

“And what if I did? Would you be mad at me?” You want so badly to be a tease - you already look the part, wearing a skirt that's dangerously short - but your shyness makes you sound defensive.

“Mad at you? For what?” Your pink cheeks melt his stoic facade so easily.

“I don’t know.” You look down at your hands, you’re fidgeting. “It’s weird, right? I mean, I feel weird that I wanna call you ‘Daddy’.”

“It’s a little weird-”

“See? I knew you wouldn’t like it.”

“-but it’s not weirder than anything else you do.”

“Huh?”

“You've got a bed filled with... those whatever you call ‘em… marshmallows?”

“Squishmallows,” you correct him.

“Thank you. Your squishmallows hog the bed until you wanna have sex, and then they can’t be there because ‘you don’t want them to see anything inappropriate’.”

“Baby Yoda’s too young to see things like that.”

“Baby Yoda’s not real, honey.”

You frown.

“I’m sorry. He’s real, you’re right,” he concedes when he hears a sniffle come from you.

“You can apologize to him, not me.”

“Remind me when we go to bed, okay?”

You turn yourself sideways in his lap, so you can snuggle up to him. “So you wanna be my daddy?” You’re quick to adopt your role. He tries to think of a way to tell you he’s not sure, he’ll think about it, but his cock twitches and the decision is made. “I think I already am your daddy, baby girl.”

“Mm yeah,” you mumble and nod. With your head pressed into him like this, you’re rubbing your cheek against his chest like a cat does with its owner - affectionate and adorable, though you end up leaving glittery eyeshadow on his good shirt. “Can we go to sleep?”

“Yep. It’s way past your bedtime.” A bedtime which has yet to be set.

You wrap your arms around his neck, knowing he’s going to pick you up and carry you.

When you’re drunk, Chris usually has to help you put your pajamas on. This isn’t anything new. It’s new when he has to help you into your clothes the next morning, when you’re sober. Tonight, your tank top and shorts are a soft cotton, covered in pink flowers. You fall asleep only after your face has been scrubbed of makeup - Daddy's orders.

You make a face when the damp towelette touches your skin.

“I know you don’t like it, but you’re gonna be mad if you get makeup all over your pillowcase,” Chris reminds you. (You suck it up for the sake of the pillowcase.)

Before transporting you to bed, he pinches your freshly-washed cheeks. Your skin is soft and the apples of your cheeks are round when you smile. “You’re so cute,” he says. The truest words he's ever spoken.

“Love you, Daddy,” you mumble as you fall asleep. It’s so sincere and delicate, it sounds adorable when you say it. He could get used to hearing it.

It’s a good thing Chris is used to lack of sleep because you toss and turn, moving him around like he’s a ragdoll. You push him onto his back and splay yourself across him like a dead starfish, then you turn onto your side so you can hug one of your squishmallows that’s half the size of your body, and you grab Chris’ arm, pulling him with you, so he can be the big spoon.

You’re a heavy sleeper until he tries to move. If he flips over, so do you. You’re stuck to him, like a sea urchin. He told you that once and you cried. “No, I didn’t mean it like that, baby. You’d be a cute little sea urchin,” he said.

You wake up bright and early without a hangover. At Chris’ age, you always wake up feeling kind of hungover - achy body, foggy brain, a vague sense of regret. It’s Saturday, which means that Chris is supposed to be able to sleep in for a couple extra hours. His alarm goes off in the form of your mouth on his dick.

He sits halfway up, balancing himself on his elbows and sees your head peeking out from under the covers. You lock eyes with him, and he squints like he’s trying to read small print.

“Good morning, Daddy,” you chime. Oh yeah, guess that whole ‘Daddy’ thing wasn’t a dream.

“Daddy’s trying to sleep,” he says in between yawns.

“I wanna play,” you say. Your pink lips are dripping with your own drool which you haven’t bothered to wipe off. Does Daddy have to buy you a bib?

“Have at it,” he says and pats your cheek, giving you the tiniest smile before lying back down.

For a little girl, you really know how to suck cock, he thinks. You take him as far as you can down your throat. You almost choke. Chris’ eyes open again to see tears in your waterline.

“C’mere” he says, hoisting you up, so that you’re lying on his chest. He wipes the tears from your eyes before they can fall.

“Was it not good enough?” His heart breaks hearing your faltering tone.

“No, no, you were doing so well, baby, but you’re gonna hurt yourself if you keep doing it like that.”

Daddy knows best. He never wants to impose rules on you, he can’t be strict with you. He doesn’t control your screen time or force you to eat dinner before dessert. Despite your feisty attitude and tendency to be naughty, you’re a good girl. Though, maybe he does need to limit your daily intake of dick since you continue to push the limits of your windpipe.

“Kisses?” You look like you’re going to cry if he denies you - not that he would ever do such a thing.

“Always,” he says before giving you a soft kiss on the lips. It doesn’t take long for an innocent kiss to turn into a full-blown make out session.

The growl of your stomach interrupts the moment.

“Are you hungry?”

“No,” you lie.

“It’s not nice to lie to Daddy.”

Too bad sucking cock is a reward not a punishment. You get a lot of rewards.

“Get up,” he says, giving you a light slap on the ass.

Your smile dares him to do it again. When he does, it only encourages your bad behavior.

He convinces you to get out of bed with the promise of pancakes. You sit at the kitchen counter, kicking your feet, waiting impatiently.

“Can you make them into shapes, Daddy?”

“A circle is a shape, honey.”

“I want heart-shaped pancakes.”

He sighs, ignoring your complaints. “Syrup?”

“Yeah,” you say, a little bit disappointed at the fact that your pancakes will not have an extravagant presentation. Your frown is quick to disappear when your pancakes arrive. They’re on a frog-shaped plate. The two pockets at the top (the eyes of the frog) hold syrup and blueberries.

“Can you cut them up?” You hold out your fork and knife. Oh, he forgot, babies can’t have knives.

Chris walks over silently and does as you ask. He feels more like a butler than a Daddy.

“Thank you. I love you, Daddy,” you say as he turns to walk away.

It takes very little to make him smile - at least, when it comes to you. “Love you, too, cutie,” he says. He gives you a peck on the lips and an extra kiss on the forehead, for good luck.

Chris likes being your Daddy, and you catch on fast.

Daddy. The word becomes a weapon.

Chris tries not to let you see how much it affects him when you say it, especially in public. You got an earful for saying it within earshot of the cashier once. He already looks old enough to be your father, and he really doesn’t want anyone thinking that’s the case, especially when you’re so handsy - you’ve gotten in trouble for that too. You cannot grope Daddy in a crowded park in broad daylight.

You’re in line at the pharmacy, getting the essentials: condoms, nicotine gum, and apparently, a giant bag of starbursts.

“Mm-mm.” Chris shakes his head.

You pout and thrust the bag at him.

“I’ve already put on weight. I’m too old to eat all that candy.” It's not like anyone's forcing him to eat it, but he knows himself by now - he will eat the entire bag.

“But, Daddy, please,” you whine and look up at him with your big dewy eyes.

And that’s it. That’s all you have to say. The last time you said that you were begging to blow him. It’s all he can see now. The blood rushes downwards and he knows arguing with you is pointless. He snatches the bag from you and buys it without another word.

You reach for the plastic shopping bag so you can have a snack on the drive home, but Chris puts them out of your reach.

“Bad girls don’t get candy,” he says.

“I’m sorry, Daddy.” Bullshit.

“You’re lucky it’s day time because I’d park the car on the side of the road and tell you to prove to me how sorry you are.”

You perk up at that, it seems like you’d like getting on your knees in public. Better take back that threat.

He lets you off the hook because you have him wrapped around your finger. He’s ‘Daddy’ in name only, you wear the pants in the relationship.

The protector role he takes on as Daddy comes naturally. He’s lost almost everyone he’s ever loved. The fact that you like him watching over you and keeping you safe makes his life easier. It makes him less paranoid. Now he only has to worry about all of his other loved ones. He makes Claire text him once a day to let him know she’s alive. The one time she forgot - had a very fun night out with her own man - he almost had a heart attack. Jill negotiated her contract down to once a week minimum.

You effortlessly play the part of baby girl. You were already cute, the only difference is you pretend to be innocent now - you’re awful at acting, but it makes you even cuter when you try. Your favorite activities are coloring, watching cartoons, and taking dick. You’re allowed to watch one episode of whatever show you want before bed on weeknights. Daddy is only strict about bedtime because Chris is exhausted. He nods off while you’re sitting in his lap unless you’re constantly chatting or trying to get in his pants.

“Daddy, you’re not paying attention,” you say, tugging at his sleeve.

“We’ve already seen this episode. I don’t need to pay attention.”

“You fell asleep last time. That’s why we’re watching it again.”

He tries desperately to keep his eyes open. The fact that you constantly “readjust your sitting position” and your ass - which peeks out of your pajama shorts - rubs against his dick. You have to keep him hard to keep him awake.

But, Daddy needs a cat nap on the couch so he can prepare for what becomes the typical bedtime routine: a story.

“Tell me a story.”

“About what?”

“You.”

“You already know everything about me.”

“Nuh-uh. What about a long time ago? Before I knew you.”

“When? I’ve been alive a long time.”

“When you were my age. What were you like?”

That was over 20 years ago. You were born 21 years ago. He feels ancient when he thinks about it like that. He sighs. “Do you want to hear about my time in S.T.A.R.S. or the Air Force?”

“Both of those sound kind of boring.”

“You asked for a story about me, not an interesting story.”

“What about any escapades? Tell me a story about a rendezvous from the olden days?”

Whoa there, Baby Einstein, you’ve got quite the vocabulary for a little lady like yourself. Chris considers pulling up a dictionary on his phone and reading you that since you wanna be a smart girl it seems. Maybe he can recite the preamble to the Constitution, that’ll put you to sleep.

“The olden days?” He’s almost offended at your remark, “I’m not that old.” There’s a pause. “Fine. I’m old and I need a minute to come up with something.” Oh God, his memory might be going. Daddy’s early onset dementia is showing.

You wait patiently.

“When I was around your age,” Jesus Christ. He sounds like a father. “I had more than a few hook ups in the back of a cop car.”

“As a cop or a criminal?”

“A cop, dumbass.”

“Did you fuck criminals?”

“Not that I know of. I wasn’t one of those corrupt cops.”

“Yeah, you were! You were having sex on duty.”

“Yeah? I’ll remind you of that the next time you call me at work, begging me to come home and fuck you.”

“Fuck is a bad word.”

“Then why’d you say it?”

“You said it first.”

“What do you want me to call it? Intercourse? Making love? ‘Getting it on’?”

“Practicing making a baby,” you suggest.

“Oh? Is that right? You wanna make a baby?”

Bedtime has been thrown out the window. Chris has you pinned - literally, caged in by his body. He forces you to meet his eyes.He doesn’t give you a chance to run from the implication. Tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you.

“What if we just pretend? For practice," you say.

“Sure, practice.” He’s all sardonic about it, but he’s dying to put his dick in you. “Swear you’ve been taking those pills?”

“Pinky swear. Girl Scouts honor.”

It’s rare that you’re able to break his composure, but he has to stifle a laugh. You’re quick to make the transition from being shy to impatient, squirming when you don’t get what you want. Chris moves his hands from your wrists to interlock his fingers with yours.

“Can you be a good girl?” He asks.

“Yes, Daddy” you say, but your coy grin and shifty eyes betray you. Obedience is boring. You’ll push the envelope until you get fucked face down into the mattress.

Chris scoffs and rolls his eyes - you’re a liar, and he’ll still fulfill every wish of yours. You moan into his mouth when he kisses you and lift your hips, trying to get any friction. Being greedy only gets you further from your goal.

He takes off your top and leaves your shorts on. When you pout, he mimics your expression and starts sucking on your tits until the pouty lips are parted and your eyes are screwed shut - he teases you until he’s too hard to think straight.

Maybe you don’t wear the pants in the relationship. At least, not for long. He yanks your shorts down like a warning for how rough he’s willing to be with you. And you love it. Daddy’s little girl can take dick like a champ. You don’t need practice ‘making a baby’.

You’re wet. No, that’s an understatement - you’re soaked. It’s okay, though, because Chris planned on ruining your panties anyway. He’ll feel less guilty, knowing that you made a mess of them first. He pulls the fabric to the side and pumps two fingers in and out. You moan and he retracts them.

“You’re so mean,” you whine.

“You’ve been naughty for the past week, and I’m still rewarding you. I’m not mean.”

You scowl, and he leans in and whispers in your ear, “And, I know you like it.”

You can’t argue with that.

You’re practically salivating watching him get undressed. The way he pulls his shirt over his head is one thing, but the sound of his belt buckle, the button pop, the zipper pulled down, you could get off on that alone.

Chris’ underwear comes off and your fingers travel to the hem of yours in response. He gently takes your hands away. “Nope.”

At first, you think he’s going to tease you. Maybe he won’t even fuck you tonight. Maybe it’s a punishment disguised as a reward. No, you realize, he’s going to fuck you with your panties still on. He drags the tip of his dick along your folds and you moan pathetically. It’s cute, really.

As wet as you are, it takes you a moment to adjust to the size of him. You grab hold of your flannel sheets - (your favorite ones, with snowmen on them despite the fact that winter is long gone) - bracing yourself for the stretch. “Being loose” is definitely a myth because you’re tight every time. Your lip quivers, but your pussy flutters.

You are being good. Until you get greedy. Daddy fucks you slow and deep, the way he likes. You’re needy, still young enough to want a quickie, especially when you’ve got multiple rounds in you. It’s easy when you’re not the one doing most of the work.

“More, Daddy,” you whine. You get what you want - sort of, it’s always ‘more, more, more’ until it’s ‘too much, Daddy’.

“Shh… thought you were gonna be a good girl for Daddy. You’re gonna get us in trouble again.”

“I promise I’ll be good.”

“I don’t believe you. Remember how loud you were last time?”

“I won’t do it again.”

“Oh really?”

You nod, pouting.

He sighs. He can’t even punish you because you get off on that, too.

“I’ll make a deal with you,” he says, halting his thrusts. You try to force him to keep going with your legs around his hips. “Ah-ah,” he chides you, “pay attention.”

Reluctantly, you do as he says.

“If you can’t behave, I’ll pull out.” That's the only thing he can threaten you with.

You’ve forced his hand. “No…” you say meekly.

“Yes, and you know what,” he says, moving your legs so that you no longer have a grip on his hips, “I’m gonna give you more, but you’re gonna flip over for me.”

He pulls out and for once you obey, flipping yourself onto your stomach. You point to the pillow you want. He grabs it and slides it under your hips. He lifts your hips and slides his cock inside you. You feel the intense pressure of being stretched out and you whimper into the pillow.

“Aw, baby can’t take it? Thought you wanted this?” Chris doesn’t slow the pace of his thrusts.

You shake your head, and he swears he can hear a muffled “I can, I can”, but your voice gets lost in the sounds of skin slapping against skin. Regardless of your sobs, you don’t use your safe word.

“What is it, baby?” He leans down and whispers into your ear with mock-sympathy, “Crying ‘cause you like when Daddy fucks you like this?”

“Uh-huh,” you moan as you clutch the pillow under your head. You’re getting wetter by the second, your walls clench as you struggle against the pleasure. “Daddy,” you cry, lifting your head a bit to make sure he can hear you.

“Gonna cum? I know you can. Just let go, I’ve got you.” His tone is gentle, despite the frantic pace of his hips, pounding into yours. You’re holding back on purpose, waiting for a promise.

“Daddy’s gonna put a baby in you. That’s what you wanna hear? ‘Cause it’s true. Gonna cum inside you, gonna get you pregnant.”

You gush around him. That sent you over the edge. His words were for your pleasure. Or so he thought.

But you’re coming down from your high and he can’t help but tell you about how he needs to get you knocked up. His thrusts get erratic and his grip on your hips tightens. He cums deep inside of you. A reward for your good behavior. Yeah, sure.

Chris’ real reward comes the next morning when he impresses you with his culinary skills.

Chris eventually learns how to shape your pancakes into hearts. He swears he can do more with a spatula now than with a gun. He deposits your plate - this one is shaped like a pig - in front of you, and you look at him like he’s performed a miracle.

“Daddy,” you say, “you did it.”

You hop down and run to the bedroom. “Be right back,” you holler as you fly by him.

You’re on a mission. You have amassed a large collection of stickers. You insist on decorating everything down to the knobs on the kitchen cabinets with glittery rainbows and Care Bears. When you return, you stick a gold star to Chris’ chest, patting it down to make sure it stays.

“Good job, Daddy!”

It should feel stupid, maybe patronizing, but you’re strict about your stickers - where they go, who can have one, which ones can and can’t be touched. When he receives your approval in the form of a star-shaped sticker, it makes him melt. It also makes him a little bit hard. Or maybe it’s the way your lips redden as you eat strawberries and the way you wipe off excess juice that falls from your mouth and lick it from your fingertips.

“What do you wanna do this morning?” He asks, leaning his elbow on the counter casually, pretending not to have an end goal.

“I wanna play with Daddy,” you say with a smile.

He's unsure what your angle is - until you wink and run towards the bedroom. It’s his turn for breakfast. Pussy is on the menu.

#chris redfield #chris redfield x reader #chris redfield smut #miss oranje fics

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jhoneybees · 9 months ago

Note

Hi. May I request a late 70s Elvis in which he and female reader had an argument and she gives him the silent treatment. Thanks

Sorry for the long wait! I Love this idea, it was a bit of a challenge to think of a reason for the argument but anyways I hope you like it!☺️💕

Mad & Upset

Characters: Late 70s!Elvis X Reader

Warnings/triggers: Neglect, argument, footplay??? I think??

_____________________________________________

You really shouldn’t be upset, it’s expected when you’re dating Elvis Presley, his schedule is crazy all the time that he barely has enough time to sleep.

You get it

But when there was some free time on his tour, he could’ve spent it with you instead of his entourage.

“You seem real quiet, didn’t sleep well?” he questions, you respond with a dull hum, crossing your arms and lifting one leg over the other. Keeping your eyes on something outside the car window.

“What’s mm? Use your words, Honey” Elvis nonchalantly chuckles as he looks at you, placing his large calloused hand on your knee.

Letting out a sigh, you mumble “During the whole tour, you didn’t spend any quality time with me” your lips forming into a pout as his sultry voice answers “Doll…You know how tours go, performing in one place then performing in the next place the following day..You know what I mean, don’t ya?” huffing out a breath, you nod “I understand that, Elvis…it’s just- why did you choose to be with the guys when you could’ve been with me? Am I annoying to you or something? You can just tell me”

Elvis doesn’t answer and looks at you blankly, looking down to the tip of your white heels making you click your tongue in annoyance and as the limo comes to a stop, you quickly climb out after the door opens.

“Doll, c’mon-”

Rolling your eyes, you walk up the airstair into the private jet. Nodding at the flight attendants with a small smile on the way past the entrance, your heels thudding along the aisle.

Elvis following closely behind you “Honey, don’t be like that I-I got distracted ‘s all” he stutters as he sits himself down in the opposite seat in front of you, reaching a hand out to gently rub his thumb against your knee “C’mon, ‘m sorry, you wanted to be with me darlin’, didn’t ya? Missed my cuddles, hm?”

Moving your knee to get his hand off, you look out the small window, letting out a sigh through your nose as you cross your arms again. You hear him lean back in his seat, seeing him look out the window through your peripheral vision.

Now you’re probably just being petty but the more you think about it, the more you think it’s unfair on your part. You wanted to spend time with him and be affectionate with him, you even got yourself all dolled up one night, in your pink silk slip dress and your hair done up just the way he likes it only for him to call you to say he’s going to hang out with the guys.

It’s mean and unfair.

As you stand up from your seat to go to the restroom, Elvis’ head turns and looks up at you with his blue eyes hidden behind his sunglasses “Where you goin’, Honey?” his voice softening, you glare down at him and brush off his hand that was clinging to the edge of your skirt before making your way to the restroom.

You know Elvis is a man and yes, he's just gonna be like any other in this world but it still disappoints you.

Walking back to your seat, you take a quick glance at Elvis, with his head lowered and discreetly looking through his eyelashes as he scans your body up and down.

The slightest bit of guilt sipping into you.

After a while of you staying silent in your seat and Elvis glancing towards your direction now and again, you feel a hand on your ankle. Looking through the corner of your eye, you see him lifting your heel to rest on his lap “I didn’t give you any attention, did I Baby? You have all the reasons to be upset with me…” his hands smoothing along your leg as his full, plush, kissable lips form into a small pout.

You watch him as he holds the bottom of your white heel, bringing it up close to his face. Putting his sunglasses to the side before giving you those puppy eyes of his then softly pecking the bridge of your foot.

You really can’t be mad at him for long.

#elvis presley #elvis #elvis fans #70s elvis #elvis imagine #i love him #elvis presley x reader #elvis fandom #elvis x reader #elvis fanfiction #elvis fic

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yoon-kooks · 2 years ago

Text

paw prints & presents | jjk

⛓️pairing: hotnerd!jungkook x popular!reader

⛓️genre: smut, fluff, college!au

⛓️summary: You and Jungkook never discussed Valentine’s Day plans, but that doesn’t mean the night won’t include corny Valentine’s cards and you getting down on your hands and knees in pretty pink lingerie for him.

⛓️word count: 2.1k

⛓️warnings:��catdilf!jk, dom!jk, sub!reader, daddy/kitten undertones, praise kink, dirty talk, oc is a horny lil brat, dry humping, sex on the couch, handjob, blowjob, face fucking, cumshot, she swallows, oc makes another ignorant comment about earl grey tea lol

⛓️p&p masterlist⛓️

a/n: here's a lil smutty drabble i wrote up for valentine's day! (you don't have to read the other p&p fics before reading this one)💖

You’ve been acting a little weird lately. Ever since February came around, you’ve been asking Jungkook about random shit like his favorite flower (lavender), his favorite romcom (none), his favorite day of the year (nonexistent), and his go-to boba order (you called him grandaddy for saying earl grey again). The most recent question was about his taste in lingerie (doesn’t matter because you’re hot regardless).

But whenever he asks why you need to know these things, you just shrug your shoulders and pretend like you’re too busy playing with the cat to answer him. The way you always shush the kitten as soon as he enters the room leads him to believe the two of you are up to no good.

It’s driving him mad.

At one point, he thought you might be sweetening him up for when you go behind his back and adopt another cat because “Lucy needs a friend” and “there’s a cute cow cat at the local shelter.” But something tells him you’ll save the cow cat shenanigans for another time.

The thing is, he’s not completely clueless here. As much as he doesn’t want to think about it, he’s well aware that Valentine’s Day is around the corner. It’s not a day he typically celebrates, but he also doesn’t know how you feel about it yet. If it’s a big deal to you, he’d want to do something thoughtful to live up to whatever the fuck you’re secretly plotting. At the same time, the two of you still haven’t made it official, so perhaps you aren’t scheming anything related to the most romantic day of the year. Perhaps he’s just overthinking it…

…Or not.

A few days before Valentine’s Day, Jungkook comes home from class early and sees something he shouldn’t have seen. Your laptop is out in the open on his bed, but you’re nowhere to be seen—probably in the bathroom or something. He’s always been the kind of guy to respectfully look away from what’s on other people’s computers or phone screens. But it’s kind of hard to ignore the pink lingerie set you apparently just ordered. The lingerie you normally wear is a sexy black or a sophisticated neutral. But this baby pink one, with the tiny red hearts and bows, is way cuter than what he’s used to seeing you in. It’s giving submissive vibes, for sure.

The thought of you wearing that tiny thing on Valentine’s Day would automatically make February 14th Jeon Jungkook’s new favorite day of the year. And that alone is something to celebrate.

But how exactly is he supposed to celebrate? It seems you have your mind made up on surprising him with pretty pink lingerie, but what can he provide in return without being too cheesy? He’s terrible at shit like this. In fact, one of his exes broke up with him specifically because he wasn’t romantic enough. She wasn’t wrong, but it’s not like he’s going to rewire his entire brain to be romantic enough for someone else’s liking. Maybe that’s fucked up of him. Maybe a good partner would make sacrifices and force themself to change for the sake of the relationship if they truly cared.

You’re different, though. With you, nothing feels forced. Rather, he gets an urge to do something nice for you, even if it goes against his natural tendencies. And right now, he wants to also surprise you with a little something on Valentine’s Day.

On the big day, he waits for you to leave for your afternoon class. That’ll give him plenty of time to put together the surprise. All he needs is some pink cardstock, markers, paint, ribbon, and a kitten.

As much as he hates cheesy Valentine’s cards, Jungkook finds himself pondering over what to write on the cardstock. Knowing you, it’s safe to go with something silly and funny. Thankfully, you’re an easy one when it comes to humor.

“Have a paw-esome Valentine’s Day, Mommy,” he writes in bold marker. You’ve been hesitant to call yourself the kitten’s mother despite raising her right alongside Jungkook. But it’s clear that you’re doing a good job. “Love, Lucy.”

He picks up the sleepy kitten, dips her paw pads into safe non-toxic paint, and adds her paw print to the bottom of the card like a signature. As the paint dries, he gives the kitty her first bath, blowdries her fur, and ties a pink little ribbon to her collar.

When the sun goes down, Jungkook rolls up the note and attaches it to the kitty’s ribbon like she’s some messenger pigeon. And then the two of them wait on the couch together, kitten loafing in the boy’s lap, for the door to open.

Five long minutes later, your keys jingle around as you unlock the front door.

“Go hide,” he whispers to the kitten who runs off into his room with a frisky tail in the air. She probably thinks he’s playing hide and seek with her like they normally do. Poor thing.

Jungkook makes himself comfortable on the couch again and pulls out his phone to look natural. Totally normal.

“Hi?” you say as soon as you open the door and see him sitting in the dark living room, his floating face illuminated by his phone screen. You hit the light switch as you kick your shoes off and look around for possible booby traps or jumpscares. It seems you’re very aware that the potential for a surprise is at an all-time high today. Then your eyes fall back on him. “Why do you look like that?”

“Like what?” He scratches the back of his head.

“Like this.” You do the awkward pose thing people do when they’re very clearly failing to act natural. How do you manage to make even the most awkward poses look cute? Maybe your little black dress has something to do with it. You weren’t wearing that earlier when you left for class.

“What do you mean? I’m just here, sitting on the couch with my phone.” Damn, is it really that obvious?

“Ah, so you were here waiting for me to get back from class like a dog?” you tease as you climb into his lap and set his phone aside. Your new perfume is a sensual lavender (no wonder you asked him about his favorite flower). And your dress is so short all he can feel is skin when he grabs hold of your ass. “Don’t worry, I missed you too.”

You snake your hands around the back of his neck and devour his lips, his tongue, his taste. He’ll never get over the moans you make just from kissing him like he’s the finest dessert you’ve ever tasted. Or the way your tongue just laps him up like a kitten—

“Wait,” he says after forcing himself to pull back from your lips. The urge to put his lips right back where they belong is incredible.

“No, Jungkook, I don’t have any homework that needs to get done before we…” Your words trail off as you kiss him some more and roll your hips against his crotch. You’ll never let it go that he’s “the biggest nerd in the world” for always making you finish your homework before sex. Thank god you don’t have any tonight. Because his hard cock is already past the point of no return.

The secret Valentine’s card still needs to be delivered, though. And the poor kitten is still waiting for her daddy to come find her.

“No seriously, wait a sec,” he chuckles, lifting you off of him before walking into his room to scoop up the kitten hiding behind the clothes hanging in his closet. When he rejoins you on the couch, he passes the fluffball to you.

“Ooh, did daddy give you a bath? You look so cute,” You sniff her orange fur and find the rolled-up note tied to her pink ribbon.

Your face quickly goes from curious to smiley as you unroll the note and read the silly message. Jungkook reads it right alongside you as if he wasn’t the one who wrote it.

“Congratulations, it seems Lucy has accepted you as her mother figure,” he says in the straightest face ever.

“Paw-esome?? Mommy??” you giggle, turning to the boy whilst cupping his chin. “Is that what you think of me?”

“It wasn’t me, it was Lucy,” he shrugs. “Right, Lucy?” She meows in agreement.

Then he pins you down against the couch cushions and leans in to whisper, “You’re my baby girl, remember?”

Your face is flushed with color as you nod up at him. You grab a handful of his t-shirt and pull him in. He finds your neck and leaves a trail of little marks as your body heats up beneath him.

“I love the card, by the way,” you manage to get out between breaths. “Thank you, Jungkook.”

“Like I said, it wasn’t from me.” His gives you a few more kisses while running his hands along your dress. As hot as you are in that dress, he’d love to get his hands on everything hiding beneath it. “I didn’t even know today was Valentine’s Day.”

“Liar. You suck, you know that.” You pout for half a second before your horny eyes are showing again. “Guess you don’t want to see the surprise I have for you.”

“What is it?” he asks a little too quickly. He must sound like such a simp.

You sit up, leaning your tits against his chest, and say, “Undress me.”

Jungkook lifts the dress up and over your head to reveal the same lingerie set he saw on your computer screen the other day. Except now it’s on your body. And boy does it look good on you. It doesn’t matter that he already had a sneak peek at it and plenty of time to mentally prepare himself for this. He still can’t take his eyes off of his baby girl looking all pretty in pink. And he forgets to speak.

“What do you think?” You drop to your knees on the carpet and situate yourself between his legs.

“Hot,” is all he can say before you unzip him and get your hands on his hard cock.

“Good.” You wet your lips with a sly tongue. Your hands start stroking his length up and down as you eye his tip. “It was an impulse buy the other day when I was feeling so horny for your cock.”

“Do you need my cock that badly?” he asks, his breath getting rougher.

You nod, licking your lips again. He’d normally make you wait a little longer before letting you give head, but fuck it. It’s Valentine’s Day, and his cock is his gift to you. You’re always begging to suck it anyway.

With a firm hand, he angles your chin up until his erection is staring you in the face. You wrap your lips around him and take him in until he hits the back of your throat. Your cute little gag doesn’t stop you from going right back in, bobbing your head back and forth, up and down his length. He decides to help by thrusting in and out of your throat.

When you stop to catch your breath, his glaze runs down your mouth. You make sure he’s watching when you lick it up and swallow before sucking him more. One of your hands grips his cock while the other travels down into your thong. He watches the way you rub between your legs and rock your body back and forth to pleasure yourself and him at the same time.

You savor each and every drop of him as if it’s the last. Your lips glisten and swell with pleasure as you’re hard at work with his cock. There’s no way anyone else can look this good while doing what you do to him.

“Fuck,” Jungkook groans, fucking your face faster. You moan something that sounds like his name, although it’s kind of hard to understand with a fat cock in your mouth.

At his breaking point, he pulls out and strokes his length until (most of) his cum sprays right into your mouth. You swallow it up while shooting him an awfully innocent smile. After catching his breath, he wipes up the bit of lust on your cheek and lets you suck it off his fingers. You’re such a good girl for him.

“You were so good, baby,” he praises you. You definitely need to be rewarded. “Should we watch one of those romcoms?”

“I thought you said you didn’t like romcoms.” You tilt your head. “We can find something else that we can watch togeth—”

“Pick your favorite romcom.” He shakes your suggestion off and lays you down on the couch so that you’re facing the TV. He hooks a finger on the strap of your thong and tears it off. With his lips just a kiss away from your wet pussy, he says, “I won’t be watching anyway.”

#bts smut #jungkook smut #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #bts fluff #bts college au #nerd jungkook

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jaikoyaki · 2 months ago

Text

Stop staring, Kang Haerin!

CHAPTER 2:

Study Session Tension

SYPNOSIS:Haerin, the vice president of the debate club, always seemed to give you cold, dismissive looks—or at least, that's what you thought. Convinced she couldn’t stand you, you never expected to have anything to do with her. You assumed she just hated you. But when the club loses a key member before an important competition, you—known for your academic excellence—are the obvious choice to step in.

Prev - Masterlist - Next

Words:1.4k

The next day, Danielle, the debate club president, announced your pairing with Haerin. You felt a twinge of suspicion the moment she said it. Out of all the people, why would she pair you with Haerin? Especially after yesterday’s tense interaction. And the way Danielle delivered the news—her overly cheerful tone, the way her lips twitched as if she was holding back a smile—it was suspicious.

You caught her sneaking a glance at Hanni, who was sitting nearby, trying (and failing) to look innocent. Something was definitely up. What made it worse was Haerin’s reaction—or lack of it. She didn’t protest, didn’t suggest a different partner like you half expected. She just nodded and… squinted her eyes at Danielle? Was that irritation in her eyes? Did she not like the pairing either? Great, she’s probably mad about being stuck with you.

But you had no choice, so here you were, sitting in the school library with Haerin, books scattered between you. The sound of pages flipping or the occasional scratch of your pen broke the thick silence.

You tried focusing on the research in front of you, but your mind kept wandering. Every time you sneaked a glance at Haerin, she seemed to already be looking at you. Her sharp, feline eyes would dart away as soon as you turned your head, making your heart race for reasons you didn’t want to think about.

'what's her deal?' you wondered 'do i have something on m-'

Before you could spiral deeper into your thoughts, your phone buzzed on the table, sending you back to reality. You glanced down and saw a notification from Hanni.

Your brow furrowed.

You quickly typed back, fingers flying over the screen.

Your mouth dropped open in shock as you stared at the screen. Danielle was in on this? A wave of betrayal washed over you. You had been suspicious, but confirming it was still a shock. Of course, you shouldn’t have been surprised—Hanni and Danielle were close friends. But to think they’d both conspired to pair you with Haerin for… whatever this was? You couldn’t even begin to know why.

Frustrated, you locked your phone and placed it back down on the table, letting out a silent groan. So that’s why everything felt suspicious.

Stealing a glance at Haerin, you noticed she was still focused on her book, her expression as neutral as ever. You tried to shake the thoughts from your head and return to the research, but you couldn’t help but wonder if Haerin had any clue about their scheme—or if she even cared.

“Is this what you normally do for research?” Haerin’s voice sliced through the silence, startling you. It wasn’t harsh, but it wasn’t warm either—more neutral than anything, yet it sent a shiver down your spine.

“Uh… yeah,” you stammered, unsure of how to respond. You glanced up at her briefly, only to find her focused on the book in front of her. “I like starting with the key arguments and building around them.”

“Not bad,” she replied, her eyes flicking back to her notes.

Silence descended again, thick and uncomfortable.

You started flipping through a textbook, hoping the tension would dissipate. Just as you reached for a book in front of you, Haerin reached for it too. Your fingers brushed against hers, and for a moment, an electrifying spark shot through you.

You quickly pulled your hand back, heat rushing to your cheeks as you muttered an apology. But Haerin remained still, her fingers lingering on the book for a heartbeat longer before she picked it up. Her expression remained unreadable, though a faint pink dusted her cheeks.

Did she feel it too?

“Sorry,” she muttered, her voice flat as she quickly turned back to her book. You noticed how she lowered her head, as if trying to hide her face behind the pages. But you noticed something—her hand trembled just a little as she gripped the pages.

You blinked. Did you irritate her?

The study session dragged on in awkward silence. You could feel Haerin’s gaze on you more than usual, and each time you glanced up, she was staring at you—more intently than before, or maybe you were just imagining it.

Suddenly, the sharp ring of the school bell echoed through the quiet library, snapping you out of your daze. You flinched, realizing how absorbed you'd become in both the research and your spiraling thoughts. Haerin, however, remained focused on her book, seemingly unfazed by the passage of time, though you noticed she hadn’t written much in her notes.

Danielle’s voice rang out from behind the library shelves. "Alright, guys, time's up! Let’s wrap it up for today."

You let out a quiet sigh of relief, grateful for the excuse to leave the tension behind. Quickly gathering your notes and books, you glanced at Haerin, who was still calmly organizing her things, as if the awkwardness didn’t bother her at all.

Haerin turned to you, opening her mouth as if to say something, then closed it just as quickly, her lips pressing into a thin line. She fidgeted with the edge of her notebook, gripping it a little too tightly, as though whatever she was about to say was stuck on the tip of her tongue.

You hesitated, sensing the subtle tension in her posture. “Do you... wanna say something?” you asked, your voice soft but curious.

Haerin blinked, her eyes darting to yours for a split second before looking away. “Sorry,” she muttered, her tone quiet, almost uncertain.

She didn’t respond right away, shifting her weight awkwardly as if she didn’t know how to continue. Just as you thought she might explain, she shook her head slightly. “Never mind.”

You nodded, even though it didn’t make sense, and stood up, grabbing your bag.

“Okay... I’ll see you later—I mean tomorrow then,” you mumbled, heading toward the exit, eager to escape the library.

As you walked away, you glanced back, catching Haerin shaking Danielle's shoulder, her frustration evident. “Why did you do that?” she whined, her voice low but intense. “You know that I—” The words trailed off, muffled by distance as you moved down the hall, but the sight of her in such a rare, vulnerable moment struck you. You had never seen Haerin like this before. Meanwhile, Danielle wore a teasing smile, clearly enjoying Haerin's distress.

Stepping into the hallway, the late afternoon sun streamed through the windows, casting long shadows on the floor. The sounds of students chattering filled the air, some heading to their clubs, others preparing to go home. The familiar noise helped ground you, pulling you out of your own head.

You glanced at your phone again, tempted to text Hanni and demand answers, but hesitated. Was there really a point in knowing why they set you up with Haerin? And besides, why were you getting so worked up about it? It’s just debate research.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sight of the debate club bulletin board across the hall. You hadn’t really paid attention to it before, but now you found yourself studying it carefully. Flyers from past competitions, old photos of winning teams, schedules for the upcoming season... and smack in the center, a candid photo of the current team. You spotted Haerin in the back, her usual neutral expression in place, and beside her, Danielle and Hanni, both smiling brightly. They looked so... comfortable with each other.

Your steps slowed as the weight of your situation sank in. It wasn’t just about fitting in anymore—it was about not letting them down. The debate club had lost a key member before a major competition, and the fact that they’d turned to you, meant they were counting on you to step up. The club's reputation was on the line, and the more you thought about it, the more your stomach twisted.

You couldn’t afford to mess this up.

The thought echoed in your head like a warning bell. Danielle, Hanni, Haerin, and the rest—they were all veterans, a tight-knit group that had seen victory before. You were the wildcard, the unknown factor that could either push them forward or drag them down.

You glanced back at the debate club bulletin board. Those flyers, those wins... they were proof of what the team had achieved without you. And now, the club was trusting you to help keep that momentum going.

You won’t fail them.

You are Y/N L/N, one of the top students, if not the smartest, at Seongnam High School. Right?

Failure wasn’t an option.

With each step, the pressure mounted. You didn’t just need to fit in—you needed to deliver.

————

A/n: not liking this so far😔

Taglist: @secretcessy @sixflame438 @gayforalll @idkwhatim-doinghere101

@saysirhc

#newjeans x reader #newjeans #haerin x reader #kang haerin x reader #haerin #kang haerin #haerin x fem reader #kang haerin x fem reader

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pervspace · 1 year ago

Note

This is my last Leon req i swear!! Perverted Leon who cannot get enough of m!readers thighss!! He can't help but dream of squishing them and fuckin in between them. It's not as good as the real deal tho ♡

warnings: nsfw, m.reader, pervert!leon, he’s like a desperate puppy :((, somnophila, kinda cliffhanger ending cause i lowkey wanna make a pt2 cause i love this sm aaaaa

word count: 797

note: aaaa i loved writing this please keep sending requests!!!

—

he felt ashamed of himself, he really was just a pervert. you and leon have been friends for years, you two shared a home, shared a bed, shared practically everything. you two were just friends though, that’s what was driving him almost mad. how was he supposed to act normal when his cock was threatening to jump out of his jeans whenever he saw your thighs, the way they would expand whenever you sat down, how they jiggled when you walked, how they would spill over the fabric of your thigh highs. he even got to take a picture of you where your thighs were clear and visible, he’s found himself doing perverted stuff when thinking to your thighs.

constantly fucking into any object that reminded him of your thighs, he felt so ashamed fucking into one of your pillows like a dog in heat. humping the soft fabric until his cock started to hurt, he was overstimulating himself before he even came. he couldn’t help it, it was your fault! how could you walk around in such slutty shorts and not expect him to get hard? you had to be doing it on purpose is what he tried to tell himself, it had to be you teasing him on purpose. he was driving himself insane, his cock was begging for him to stop the relentless abuse but he just couldn’t. he came onto every polaroid of you, the bottom of his shirt stuffed into his mouth to prevent the whimpers and moans that spilled from his pretty pink lips. he decided he was going to take a step up tonight, he was going to try something new.

“leon…get it together, this is so fucked.” he was absolutely right, he shouldn’t be in your room at 2am watching you sleep, he shouldn’t be gently taking the covers off your sleeping frame to see your body. his cock jumped at the sight of your sleeping body, the way you looked so peaceful and beautiful like this. “fuck…can’t help it m’sorry…it hurts if i don’t touch it…” he pulled your thighs together and just stared like a deer in headlights, tugging his sweatpants down he palmed his cock through his boxers. he had already soaked through the fabric with his pre cum, it was a pathetic sight to see…him desperately pumping into his hands while staring at your thighs, he even stole a pair of your boxers to shove in his mouth to keep him quiet.

he was suffocated in your scent, you lingered in every one of his senses. he brushed his palm against his angry red tip and let out a choked out moan, he really should stop. you could wake up at any minute and catch him being a filthy perv! he couldn’t stop his hips from moving up to meet his hand, his eyes were wet and glossy with tears. everything felt so good when it was influenced by you, he had never felt this good touching himself when he was just watching porn. it was you, all he wanted was you, but there’s no way you would have him. not after the sinful acts he’s committing in your room at the moment, you would definitely move out and never speak to him.

“m’sorry…’m such a bad boy…please fo-forgive me.”he was begging for you, he wasn’t quite sure what he was begging for but he needed it. his balance was unsteady as he fucked his hand faster, his palm twtisting all around his tip. he felt the knot in his stomach tighten uncomfortably, he wanted to cum on you, but he knows he couldn’t.

cum on his thighs, you can clean it up later.

n-no that’s not-

you deserve it, you’ve worked hard and you’ve held back from bending him over and fucking him raw.

don’t wanna it-its bad if i-

you’ll never get this opportunity again, just cum.

he tried to hold back, he really did. he just couldn’t behave himself around you, he was just a gross pervert. “m’sorrysorrysorry…pleaaasseee forgive me baby i-i’m gonna cu-cum…!” he let out a final drawn out whine before cumming all over your thighs, he pumped himself through his orgasm. his body was ruined with aftershocks of his sinful actions, his cum was spread so beautifully across your thighs. he was a bad boy, the absolute worst boy ever. how could he do something like that? he quickly left the room out of pure embarrassment. he came on his best friend's thighs while he was sleeping, he laid in his own bed thinking over and over about what he just did.

he was woken up by the bright sun peaking through his blinds and a warm wet breath against his ear, “what a pervert you are, kennedy.”

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x male reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x male reader #resident evil #smut #kennedyslvr #leon x reader

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five-rivers · 7 months ago

Text

Cracked Clay Cup Chapter 13

@greatbigolhampuckjustforme

“Okay,” said Danny rubbing his hands together. “I’m going to do the big group next.”

“Group number four?”

“Yeah, them. Why’re there three of them, anyway?”

“You’ll have to ask them that,” said Clockwork. “Au jus?”

“Yes, please,” said Danny, reaching for the small bowl of sauce. “Your sandwiches are always really good.”

“Thank you,” said Clockwork. “Will you be leaving after lunch, then?”

“Yeah, I think that’ll be best.” Danny sighed. “No offense, but I’m kind of going a little bit stir-crazy, being inside all the time. I didn’t really realize until Pandora said something, but she was right.”

“That’s quite reasonable,” said Clockwork. “The trial has lasted for nearly a month and a half.”

“Really? I think I’ve only been with each person for about a week, and there’ve only been four people. Five, if you count the Observants.”

“Yes, but you’ve spent a good amount of time here as well. Those in-between days add up.”

“Huh. I guess so.” Danny took a bite of his sandwich. “I guess it sort of snuck up on me. A month and a half… So two weeks here.”

“Yes, but please chew with your mouth closed.”

“Oops,” said Danny, covering his mouth. “Sorry.”

Clockwork nodded and patted Danny absently on the head before making a small sandwich for himself. They ate together quietly.

“Three of them, though,” said Danny. “Are they all together, or something?”

“You will–”

“Have to meet them and find out. I know, I know. Should I brush my teeth first?”

Clockwork raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, you’re right,” said Danny. “That’s probably too much effort. But I should put in some effort, shouldn’t I?” He nodded. “Yeah. Toothbrushing. Toothbrush. One minute.”

Danny had been in a lot of places over the last month and a half. A cute little house, two mansions possessed by people with questionable understandings of humanity, a warren of ice caves, an ancient Greek palace, and, of course, Clockwork’s purple place. He’d imagined a lot of others. Like open skies, broad fields, mountains, islands… horrible mad science labs…

However, he hadn’t imagined a place like this.

“Um,” he said, looking around the… stage? Rats' nests of cables were strewn about in every direction, and next to the curtains hunting trophies were hung. Heads, horns, antlers… hair? A tail? Whatever, this was weird, and there didn’t seem to be anyone around. “Hi?” He stepped forward over a tangle of cables. “Hello? Anyone–”

“BEHOLD! I, TECHNUS, MASTER OF ALL TECHNOLOGY–”

Danny leaped backwards, to hover over the seating area, startled by the ghost rising out of the cables. The stage lights came on, spotlights centering on the ghost. He had long white hair, green skin, sunglasses built into his face, and a tattered lab coat.

Music blasted out of speakers, rock and roll, screaming guitars, thundering drums and cymbals. A young, gray-skinned woman with fiery blue hair rose up from under the stage. She held a guitar painted with blue and pink flames.

“HEYA, BABYPOP!” she shouted into a microphone that appeared in a burst of fire. “WELCOME HOME TO MAMA EMBER, YEAH!”

“Hey!” whined the first ghost. “You said I could do the introductions!”

“I never said that. You said that. I was always going to do the intros. You think I’m going to leave it to you, when you just drone on and on and on and on and–”

“As if you’re any better!”

“I come with a sound track, audio jack,” said Ember.

“My god, you two are so loud, and you didn’t even bother to introduce me,” said a deep, slightly hollow voice. Danny startled again, twisting to see a ghost completely covered with silvery armor.

“I thought you didn’t care about introductions,” said Ember. She played a quick few chords on her guitars, then continued to use her music to punctuate her words. “Because big, bad, baddie, bad, hunky, hottie, hunter Skulker doesn’t need an introduction.” She leaned forward over the guitar. “His name speaks for him!” She started laughing so hard she floated up off the stage. Music continued to blare from the speakers.

“I, TECHNUS, MASTER OF ALL TECHNOLOGY, CAN TAKE YOUR SO-CALLED MUSIC OFF THE AIR!”

“We’re not even on the air!”

“I can’t believe I’m associated with these two idiots,” said Skulker.

“I’d like to know how you’re associated with me,” said Danny, trying to smooth down his fur.

“Isn’t it obvious, babypop?” asked Ember. “We’re you’re parents! Yeah!”

“Uh,” said Danny, looking at the very strange trio. “I don’t know about the other two, but aren’t you a little… young for that?” She couldn’t be all that much older than Jazz.

“I’m dead, kiddo. Son. Boy. Little man. I was a teen mom and all that. Totally radical rockstar living.”

“With, um,” said Danny. His eyes slid back and forth between Ember and Skulker.

“Skulker, duh,” said Ember. “Techy here is Skulker’s boyfriend or whatever.”

“It’s not whatever. I am his trusted–”

“Yeah, whatever.”

“We’re all dating, except when we’re broken up,” said Skulker, bored.

“Okay,” said Danny. “So… you’re both…” He shrugged at them.

“What does this–” Technus also shrugged, “--mean?”

“I don’t know,” said Danny. “You tell me.”

“Hm, the amnesia did not do favors for his intelligence! I liked him much better before! Do you want to see the lab?”

“The lab?” repeated Danny, backing away from Technus a little more.

“It really didn’t help your intelligence. Sad! Perhaps some electroshock therapy might help?”

“Hey!” said Ember, kicking Technus’s tail. “What did we say about electrocuting the flesh baby? What did that narc say? The tall purple one?”

“I know you know that Clockwork isn’t a narc,” said Skulker.

The three of them started to bicker. Danny watched in mixed fascination and horror.

White hair on Technus. Green eyes on Skulker and Ember. Human-like appearances. A mad science lab. Jazz’s belief that Danny would buy the absurdly youthful mother story. Frostbite’s conviction that his parents were abusive. Heck, Danny could even see them meeting Vlad in college, if he fudged the ages a little. He didn’t have any idea how old Vlad was, after all.

Were these his actual parents? Like, his actual, biological parents?

“Anyway, babypop,” said Ember, throwing a hand around Danny’s shoulder, “we heard about your predicament through the grapevine–”

“Through the grapevine? Weren’t you just saying you were my mother?”

“Yeah, but I was on tour, Skulker was hunting, and Technus was… Being Technus. We were, like, estranged. Separated. Because of the whole alive thing. Fell out of touch.” She waved a lazy hand. “Anyway, we heard about the Observants putting you through hell, and we were like, that’s not cool. So, we put our names in the hat, all that stuff, babypop, ‘cause we love you, y’know? And we’re going to have so much fun. I’ll turn you into a proper rocker yet. You’ve got a great set of pipes, kid, and you’ve got to use that.”

“But first!” shouted Technus, at only a slightly lower volume than before. “The GRAND TOUR!”

Danny took back that thought about the volume being lower.

“TO THE LAB!”

Danny cringed away from Technus. This was going to be a pain.

“Okay,” said Danny, floating a few feet over the floor to avoid the wires. “We’ve seen the stage, the sound room, the… conservatory?”

“Never say that I don’t have taste, babypop. You’ve got to have a good piano in a house.”

“Yeah, then workshop, and the server room, and the lab.” Which had, frankly, been horrifying. Just a massive mess of electronics. The sense of electricity in the room made his hair all stand on end. “And the weapon room. Then the… hunting. Place. And. Um. Zoo.” Which was also horrifying, but for different reasons.

“Yes,” said Skulker, “our space may be limited, but you will soon know the joy of the hunt.”

“... right,” said Danny. “But, like, is there a… kitchen?”

“Kitchen?” asked Ember, blankly.

“We don’t,” said Skulker.

“We mostly order out, when the great hunter here can’t catch anything!”

“Can anyone… get in to order out?”

Ember, Skulker, and Technus stared at each other.

“Crap,” said Ember, finally. “Crap.”

“What?” said Technus. “It’s not like we have to eat.”

“I kind of do.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I do. Everyone else has been feeding me.”

“Yeah, no, we’re ghosts, even you,” said Technus. “We don’t need to eat.”

“I can kill off some of the game I’ve already caught,” said Skulker, “if we really need to. I’d like you to hunt for them, though. A little extra incentive!”

“Right. Sure. Whatever. Bedroom?” asked Danny.

“We don’t need to sleep, either,” said Technus.

Fine. Danny wasn’t touching that. “Bathroom?” he tried.

“Gross,” said Ember. “Who’s spending their afterlife peeing?”

“Uh. Me?”

“Ew. You’ve got to quit that.”

Danny didn’t think that was a thing he could actually quit. He made a face. “You’re not actually my parents, are you?”

“Of course we are,” said Skulker, mechanically.

“Okay, well, that right there, that’s a lie,” said Danny. “That’s definitely a lie.”

“It’s not,” said Technus, stridently.

“Look, maybe some fighting would knock him out of his funk,” said Skulker. “Knock him right out.”

“Yeah, some of that misplaced aggression kind of thing he’s always on about,” said Ember.

Danny had no idea what he was talking about. “You guys do know that if I can’t have a place to go to the bathroom, I’m going to leave, right?”

“Maybe even a good hunt,” said Skulker. “For old times’ sake. Give him a good chase, get rid of some of that anxiety.”

Danny really hoped he wasn’t related to these three. He grabbed the pocketwatch.

“Wait, ghost child!”

“Okay, yeah, that’s not something you call your kids,” said Danny, pointing at Technus.

“Oh, yeah, yeah, you caught us,” said Technus. “Real sharp of you, ghost child! Real sharp and groovy.”

“Oh my god, you don’t know what any of those words mean,” said Ember. “Stop using them.”

“BUT!” shrieked Technus. “What you don’t know is that we’re your RIVALS!”

Danny grimaced. “What?”

“We fought you, like, a bunch of times,” said Ember.

“And… now you want to adopt me?”

“Better us than some of the nutjobs that want you. We’d just let you do your own thing, hang out, fight a bit when you get touchy about your stupid city, or too wound up about school, all that stuff.”

“But we’d NEVER make you go to SCHOOL!” said Technus. “I could teach you in the lab!”

“Wow, that’s, uh. Touching,” said Danny. “But the bathroom thing is, in this case, a dealbreaker.”

“Aw, come on,” said Ember. “At least have a good fight with us, first. Skulker’s been practically moping since you’ve been out of commission.”

“My latest hunts have been… flavorless,” said Skulker. Danny sighed. “Fine. But I’m going right after.”

#danny phantom #phic phight #phic

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parrythisucasual · 1 year ago

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Could you do a jax x fem cathumanoid that loves all types of arts singing,acting,drawing and more. Where jax where jax falls in love with her singing and just here in general?

THREE DAYS WORK ALL FOR YOU <3

Jax x Fem! Cathumanoid! Artsy! Reader

Jax watched from around a corner as the girls (and Zooble), especially you, chatted together. His arms crossed, he watched as you laughed, something Ragatha had said must’ve been funny. He couldn’t understand what it was about you that made him want to be around you. He was fine with Zooble or Gangle, but he couldn’t possibly be more jealous of Pomni and Ragatha.

Why did they get to talk to you so easily? Why were they the ones you’d choose to hang around all day? Hell, you’d even draw pictures for them. You were best friends. The jealousy was eating away at him and he couldn’t comprehend, for the life of him, why.

To him, you were perfect. From the way you smile to the way you walk, act, anything. Jax had never felt anything quite like it. It was both amazingly exhilarating and entirely frustrating at the same time.

He perked up when you motioned to Ragatha that you had to go. You turned away after the two nodded, heading for the second floor, most likely your bedroom. Jax watched your tail flick around the corner. He paused a moment longer, at war with himself. Should he follow? Would that be weird? You haven’t talked to him at all today, shouldn’t he say hi? But would you want him to say hi?

Before consciously making the choice, he was already off, following you. By the time he rounded the corner, however, you were already up the stairs. He picked up speed, hoping to reach you before you got into your bedroom, but no luck. The moment he stepped foot into the living quarters hall, your door clicked shut, a sense of finality about it.

Feeling rather stupid, Jax remained standing in the hall. Turning around now would mean admitting defeat. Besides, if he reappeared near the others, they'd think something was weird, and he really didn’t feel like being stared at. They’d know why he came back. Resigning to go to his room, he froze. A soft melody, rather pretty, caught his attention.

It was faint, very faint, but he knew immediately you were singing. He was too far to make out the words, so he quietly crept up the hall. The closer he got, the more beautiful the melody became. He quickly realized that it was, in fact, a love song you were singing.

He stopped outside the door. He recognized the song, he wasn’t sure how. But it was a duet. His cheeks flushed a bit as you sang, and before he knew it it was the man’s part of the song. He didn’t hesitate, knowing full well he would probably regret it, and sang along.

The silence on the other side of the door was resounding, for a moment, but your voice responded. Softer, more hesitant, but just as beautiful. With each line he sang he felt his embarrassment grow, but he refused to stop because with each line you sang he could hear your confidence grow.

All too soon, however, the song was over, and the two of you were bathed in a heavy, meaningful silence. The doorknob clicked and he took a quick step back. The door creaked open and there you stood, eyes wide and curious as you looked up at him. Your pointed ears perked forward, as if expecting something.

“Sorry-” Jax couldn’t do it, he turned away in his attempt to flee the embarrassment, but you caught him by the crook of his elbow. He glanced at you, face blooming bright pink. You frowned, “Where are you going? You can’t seriously think I’m just gonna let that go.”

“I was sort of-” “Hoping I would?” you interrupt him with a grin, “no way, Bunny.” You twist his arm at the right angle to force him to face you once again, “You can’t just sing that with me and walk off, scot-free.” He grinned nervously, “You mad about it, or something?” he chuckled, trying and failing to display his usual annoying demeanor.

You raise a brow, “Tell me, Bun,” you ignore his question, “why’d you join? You like me or something?” The look on his face was answer enough, but you sat and waited. He had to get off his high horse and confess eventually, right?

“I came by to say hi, y’know,” he started, trying to sound confident but coming off mostly as awkward, “and, uh, that song’s a duet. Singing it all alone would make you sound stupid or whatever.” You snort, throwing Jax off once again. You were radiating confidence, only making him more flustered.

“Sure, bug guy. Hey, what would you say to grabbing some lunch and heading down to the digital lake?” Jax nodded eagerly at the offer, “Sure why not? Don’t got anything better to do.” “Then you can get the food ready. I have to get ready, after all.” You let him go, slipping back into your room.

“It's a date.”

#the amazing digital circus #tadc #jax #tadc jax #tadc x reader #jax x reader #tadc jax x reader #the amazing digital circus jax

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1-imaginary-girl · 1 year ago

Text

I’ll Take Care of You Pt. 2

Eggsy Unwin x Reader

Summary: You and Eggsy have continued seeing each other after the incident. The only problem is, Eggsy only sees you when he's injured. Will he find the courage to tell you how he really feels? Reader uses she/her pronouns.

Warnings: Talk about minor injuries, but overall fluff again.

Word Count: 3824

Part 1

A/N: The second part is finally here! I rewatched "Robin Hood" recently and it got me back into the Taron Egerton headspace. God I love that man. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Eggsy is walking out of a Kingsman meeting and he can feel the fatigue settling into his bones. Without having a mission to focus on, spy work can be rather boring. Especially during meetings like those. He's trudging down the hall when suddenly, he feels a buzz from his phone. He takes it out and instantly a smile appears on his face.

He received a text message from you saying: Did your meeting kill you with boredom? :P

He laughs to himself before responding: It was fucking dreadful, but thankfully I will live to see another day.

Ever since that fateful night where Eggsy got hit by your car, the two of you have stayed in touch. He thinks he’s actually found a friend in you. It feels nice to have someone to talk to about being a spy, other than his fellow Kingsman agents. Maybe Eggsy shouldn’t be telling you the information he does, but he can’t help it. There’s something about you that makes him want to tell you everything and he knows he can trust you. And you already knew he was a spy, so he figured what’s a few more secrets to spill?

Eggsy loves having you in his life. The only thing he doesn’t love is that the two of you don’t really hang out other than when he gets hurt. Yes, Eggsy has continued to visit you, his favourite nurse, whenever he gets injured in the field. Once, he even paid you a visit after fighting practice with Roxy resulted in a nasty black eye. You didn’t appear mad at him for wasting your time, since all you could really do is offer him an ice pack. You just tended to him as you often did and the two of you talked the night away.

It isn’t even a conscious decision anymore to go to you. He just always finds himself making the journey to your place with a new injury. The first time it happened after the car accident, it was because he had gotten injured near your place and thought it would be easier than returning to base or even going home. But after a few visits, he found himself just wanting to be with you, injured or not.

After this realization, he began to feel bad about selfishly wanting you to be the one who fixes him. After all, you already spend all day tending to patients. So he told you:

“Are you sure you don’t mind fixing me up all the time? I’m starting to feel bad for inconveniencing you.”

But instead of agreeing, you smiled at him and said, “Eggsy Unwin, you could never be an inconvenience. Don’t tell anyone, but out of all of my patients, you’re my favourite.”

His heart sped up at that, so he cracked a joke. “I’m sure that’s what you tell all your patients.”

“Only the handsome ones,” you replied with a wink that caused a shade of pink to bloom on his cheeks, but luckily you had returned to your work and didn’t seem to notice.

It was after that encounter that Eggsy had realized he was developing feelings for you that evolved past friendship. He had tried to chalk his feelings up to being platonic, but who was he kidding? He was falling for you, and falling hard. He thought about confessing to you, wondering if you felt the same, but it was too risky. Eggsy didn’t want to ruin one of the best friendships he had over feelings that are most likely one-sided.

“Is that Y/N?” A voice sounds from beside him, causing Eggsy to jump and almost drop his phone. So much for his spy training. “Tell her I say hi.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, tucking his phone away and out of Roxy’s nosy stare. She scoffs and rolls her eyes, now walking beside him.

“Cut the shit, Unwin, I saw you smiling down at your phone with that goofy lovestruck smile that is reserved only for Y/N,” she says. Eggsy had never planned on sharing Y/N with Roxy, not wanting to risk you getting into trouble, but unfortunately for him, Roxy and Merlin are no good busybodies. The next day at work after the car accident, Roxy immediately bombarded him with questions about you. Apparently, when Eggsy informed Merlin that he was going to a random civilian’s house, the news was too interesting not to tell Roxy.

He also never planned on giving Roxy your name but having a friend that’s a spy is not convenient when keeping secrets. She had spied on him when Eggsy was texting you, the two of you having exchanged information that fateful day, and saw your contact name before he could stop her.

“I was not smiling, and I do not have a goofy lovestruck smile only for Y/N,” Eggsy tells her, but as soon as he says that, he wonders if he does. If his feelings are really that obvious.

“God, for a spy you really are obvious.” Sometimes he wonders why he’s even friends with Roxy.

“And for the last time, Rox, I am not in love with her,” he insists.

“Is that why you won’t let me meet her? You’re afraid I’ll tell her? Because I can assure you, unlike yourself, I am quite excellent at keeping secrets.”

“For the record, I won’t let the two of you meet because I’m afraid you’ll scare her off,” he says, but he’s also afraid that Roxy might steal you away. Maybe you’d prefer a female spy friend over him. He doesn’t think you’re the type of person to do that, but his insecurities continue to hold him back, just in case.

Roxy lets out an exaggerated sigh. “Come on, Unwin, just admit that you love her! I already know, and you won’t convince me otherwise.” Eggsy realizes how true that is when he looks over to see his friend’s dead serious expression. Fuck it.

“It’s not love, quite yet,” he admits, and Roxy giddily celebrates. Eggsy looks up and down the hall to make sure no one sees her. “What was that about being too obvious?”

But Roxy doesn’t hear him. “I knew it. I can’t believe I got you to confess, I thought I’d have to bug you at least a few more times about it,” she says with a smile on her face. He rolls his eyes.

“Well, now you know. Satisfied?”

She stays quiet for a moment before asking, “Why don’t you tell her again?”

“It’s not that simple,” he says, shaking his head. He doesn’t know how to explain himself without making him seem like a miserable sod. “She’s my friend. A good friend, and I don’t…” He sighs and stops walking. Roxy stops beside him. “I don’t want to screw this up.”

“Eggsy Unwin,” Roxy says, and when he looks her she has a serious arms-crossed look that makes Eggsy want to keep walking. “You’re not going to screw this up.”

“But what if she doesn’t feel the same?” he confesses and then realizes they should have chosen a more private location to be having this conversation. Luckily, there appear to be no other agents around.

“By the looks of your messages, I can almost guarantee she feels the same. On top of that, I’m your best friend and even I would get annoyed at having to fix you up after every fight,” she says.

“Sorry, exactly when did you see such messages?”

“Never mind that,” she says, brushing the topic aside. “The point is, I think she feels the same way. And even if she doesn’t, based on the limited knowledge of her, she sounds like the type of person to handle that well. You don’t have to worry about your friendship.”

What she said makes sense, yet Eggsy can’t shake the queasy feeling in his stomach at the thought of having to confess to you.

“It’s up to you what you do,” Roxy continues. “But would you at least consider it?”

He stares at her unyielding gaze, and relents. “I suppose.”

“Thank god. I don’t know how much more pining I can take,” she says and resumes walking.

“I do not pine!” he says, picking up his pace to catch up with her.

†††

A week later, Eggsy finds himself sitting in one of the Kingsman jets heading back to base after a long, but successful, mission. He’s lounging in one of the chairs, feeling proud that the mission had gone off without a hitch.

His mission had been to retrieve some confidential information that had gone missing, but the retrieval ended up being fairly easy. The people who had stolen the information got lulled into a sense of calm and had lowered their security. Thanks to that, Eggsy had been able to be in and out of the compound, only having to take out a few people along the way.

Eggsy feels the pride and relief he normally would but now he’s also filled with excitement. Typically, at the end of his more recent missions, Eggsy will have acquired a few wounds that need tending to and would drop by your place (if you were available, which most of the time you were.) Only, as Eggsy relaxes into the jet’s seat, his excitement suddenly dwindles. He lifts up his arms and examines his body to check, but this time Eggsy finds himself in perfect condition. No injury to be found. He slumps back into the chair.

This should be a good thing, as Eggsy isn’t always as careful as he should be, but he finds he’s disappointed. After all, now he didn’t have a reason to see you. He bites his lip and gazes out the window. He was really excited to see you and now there is a hole of dissatisfaction left behind.

He continues thinking about you, about what you’re doing right now, and before he knows what he’s doing, he’s dialling your number. He only wants to hear the sound of your voice, even if he got your voicemail he would be satisfied.

On the third ring, you pick up. “How’s my favourite spy doing?” you ask as a greeting. He’s almost embarrassed at the butterflies that flutter in his stomach at your voice, and you calling him that.

“I don’t know, how is Bond?” He hears you giggle, brightening his already wide smile.

“Oh hush, no need to be jealous over a fictional character. And you were right, he is a bit posh for my taste.”

It’s his turn to laugh. “Well, your real favourite spy is feeling pretty fucking good right about now.”

“I take it the mission went well?” He had been texting you throughout the mission when he got bored. Merlin used to give him shit for it, but now he’s begrudgingly resigned to it, knowing that Eggsy had no intentions of stopping. As long as it’s only you.

“It went great! Everything went according to plan.”

“Sounds a bit boring.” He laughs, as he silently agrees with you. “Speaking as your nurse, however, I suppose this is good news.”

“What a lovely nurse I have. How did I get so lucky?”

Another laugh. “Right place, right time, right car I suppose.” He laughs. It took a while before you were able to laugh about hitting him with your car, as you still felt extremely guilty. But after reassuring you that he was over it, and constantly teasing you about it, you found the humour in it. “Seriously, I’m happy for you Eggs. You must feel great.”

“I do,” he says, despite the disappointment that lingered due to not seeing you. “Want me to tell you about it?”

“Duh!”

“Could you please try to leave out the classified bits?” Another voice sounds from the jet. Eggsy looks up to see Merlin passing by. He gives Eggsy a tired, worried expression. Eggsy smiles up at him.

“You can count on me, Merlin,” he says with a cheeky smile and a wink. Merlin simply rubs the bridge of his nose where his glasses sit.

“Is that Merlin? Tell him I say hi!”

“Y/N says hi,” Eggsy relays to him. Merlin’s face softens.

“Hello dear,” he says. Despite the nagging and scolding, Eggsy thinks Merlin likes you. The two of you have never met, but Eggsy suspects the older man believes you’re a good influence on him. Truthfully, it’s because you make Eggsy happy.

“He says hi back.”

“When are you going to introduce me to your spy family? Or is that against the rules?”

“I think it’s a little late to be considering the rules.” You laugh.

“Fair enough. Then what is it? Do you just want to keep me all to yourself?” Eggsy’s breath catches as you jokingly hit the nail on the head. He knows it’s selfish, but he can’t help the feeling of wanting to be yours. To remain your favourite spy.

“You caught me,” he says with a laugh to avoid the truthfulness from leaking through his tone.

“You can’t keep anything from me, my dear boy.” Again, his heart hammers in his chest. “Now enough chit chat, tell me about your mission.”

†††

Later that night, Eggsy is sitting on his couch, your phone call from earlier echoing in his mind. Even after hearing your voice, it didn’t quite satisfy his need to see you. He considers slightly nicking his hand with a knife when he catches himself. What is he doing? There’s nothing stopping him from going to see you right now except his own nerves. But if the two of you really are friends, then there’s nothing wrong with it, right?

“Fuck it,” he mutters to himself. Summoning up courage he doesn’t have, he stands up from his couch. What’s the worst that can happen? A deep breath, and he’s making his way to the door when suddenly he hears a knock. He pauses, wondering who it could be. It’s the middle of the night.

Eggsy cautiously walks to his front door and opens it, only to stop in shock. There, on his doorstep, is you. You’re here, at his place. Once that registers, concern overwhelms him as he takes in your state.

You’re leaning against his doorframe with a hand pressed against your left side. You also brand a gash on your chin and a split lip. Despite all of this, a smile graces your lips. “Well isn’t this ironic?” you say as way of greeting. Eggsy’s still having a hard time believing he didn’t fall asleep and dreamt this. But your voice shocks him out of his frozen state.

“Y/N, what the bloody hell happened to you?” he asks, opening his door. Shock is slowly giving way to worry as he watches you slowly make your way into his place, taking in the view.

“It’s actually a funny story,” you say. You make your way to his couch but pause to examine his living room. “Nice place you have here.”

Eggsy’s mind is going a mile a minute. He didn’t know what to do, but then he remembers that you’re injured. “I-I’ll go see if I have anything to patch you up with.” Before you can argue, Eggsy starts scrambling around his place trying to find what he thinks he would need. He ends up bringing a wet cloth, a bag of frozen peas, a package of bandaids, and some disinfectant cream that you had given him.

He returns to find you sitting on his couch, a pained expression on your face as you take deep breaths. As soon as you see him however, your face hides any trace of pain. He furrows his eyebrows but doesn’t say anything. He dumps the stuff on his coffee table.

“Whoa,” you say, taking in his collection. He becomes self-conscious since you’re an expert in medicine.

“I-It’s not much, I know, but it’ll do for now,” he says reassuringly. He takes a seat on the couch beside you. He knows about the injuries on your face but not your stomach. He eyes your side and you know what he’s thinking. “Could you lift up your shirt?”

“How forward of you,” you say with a smirk and he’s acutely aware that your roles have truly changed. He gives you a stern look, and you drop the smirk. You pull your shirt up to reveal your side and Eggsy sucks in a sharp breath.

“Jesus Y/N,” he mutters, examining the massive bruise.

“I’m lucky it’s just a bruise,” you say, a wince on your face. Eggsy looks at you and forces your gaze to meet his own.

“What happened?” he says sternly. He knows you’ve been dodging around the subject since you got here. You blush, realizing that he’s caught onto your game. To distract you, Eggsy begins fixing you up. He gently places the frozen peas on the bruise and you gasp in pain, causing his heart to squeeze.

“I don’t know how you spy types do it,” you comment. He thinks about asking how you medical professionals do it, as seeing you in pain breaks his heart. But Eggsy won’t let you dance around the subject any longer. You let out a sigh as you hold onto the bag while Eggsy examines your other injuries. “So, it’s actually rather embarrassing, but…I was actually on my way to see you.”

His eyes widen. You wanted to see him too? He tries to catch your eye but your gaze is directed at anywhere but him. A deep red is encroaching on your cheeks. You clear your throat. “So anyway, I got in my car and drove over. I…I was a bit rushed so when I got out of my car I wasn’t paying much attention. That’s when this biker rounds the corner and rides right into me.” Eggsy finishes dabbing the wet cloth on your chin and begins to apply the disinfectant, causing a hiss to escape your lips.

“Sorry,” he says. He finally meets your eyes and it feels like he got the wind kicked out of him.

“It’s fine,” you whisper, not breaking away from the stare. A moment passes before you look away and continue your story. “Anyway, he knocked me over and my left side hit the curb while my chin hit the pavement.” Eggsy winces for you.

“Did the wanker at least apologize?” His voice is clipped, withholding his anger for your sake. Tending to you is all that’s keeping him from tracking down this man and inflicting the same pain he forced upon you.

"It wasn’t his fault, Eggs, I wasn’t looking." He nods but still isn’t satisfied. Accident or no, this man hurt you which stirred unpleasant emotions in his head. “He ended up falling over as well, but he had a helmet so ultimately both he and the bike were fine. We both apologized to each other, me for not looking and him for not steering away or stopping quick enough. He was actually really nice about it.”

To distract from the illogical flare of jealousy that rose within him, Eggsy decides to joke around. “Is this a habit of yours? Getting into accidents with nice men? You know, there are other ways of gaining a man’s attention.” His comments make you break out into a smile that instantly winces due to the split lip.

“First of all, shut up,” you say, causing him to laugh. “And second of all, I’ll have you know that I had a clean record before I met you. Perhaps you’ve begun to corrupt me.”

“Perhaps I have.” The two of you smirk and the flirtatious energy soon leaves a sharp tension in the room. Eggsy applies a large enough bandage onto your chin and now begins to dab on the cut on your lip. You’re close enough for your breaths to tangle. But before Eggsy makes a complete ass of himself, he has to know. “Why were you coming to see me?”

This question wipes the smirk from your face and reheats your cheeks. “O-oh, that,” you say, trying to find the words, it seems. “Well, the thing is…okay, after your mission, I know it sounds ridiculous, but I was expecting to get a call from you saying you needed to be patched up. I-I had gotten used to it, so I was expecting to see you. But then the mission went fine.”

Eggsy can’t believe what he’s hearing. His heart begins picking up speed as he eagerly waits for you to continue.

“And I know I should have been happy to hear that—I was, I mean I hate seeing you hurt and I’m always the one telling you to be more careful.” You begin to ramble on and in your ramblings, Eggsy’s confidence grows. “I selfishly wanted an excuse to see you, but then I decided fuck it, and made my way over here. I-I just wanted to see you.”

You will no longer look at him. Your flirtatious confidence is gone as you let the unspoken words hang in the air. Looking at you, processing what you said, Eggsy realizes that there’s a chance. There’s a chance that you feel the same way, a strong one. And if there’s a chance, Eggsy’s going to take it.

“Y/N,” he whispers. His continued silence forces you to look at him and he hears you gasp softly at his proximity. He’s looking at you, flicking his gaze down to your lips and back up to your eyes. His eyes hold a question and you glance quickly at his lips before nodding.

Eggsy gently takes your face into his hands and crashes his lips down onto yours. You hiss and he breaks apart, feeling guilty for forgetting your cut, but you grab his collar and force his lips back on yours.

Eggsy sinks into the kiss, letting the passion take over and melt his body. He can’t think of anything else other than your lips, moving together, sweeter than his imagination could have predicted. When the two of you break apart, gasping for air, he breaks into a smile. You giggle, making him want to kiss you all over again to swallow the sound and live off it.

After a moment, you say, “If I’d known this is what it would take for you to finally make a move, I would have got hit by a bike ages ago.” You both laugh before Eggsy can’t hold himself back any longer and captures your lips again. You hungrily accept.

You kiss until you pull back, wincing in pain. “Totally worth it,” you whispers. He sighs as the cut on your lip reopens.

“What am I going to do with you?” he says, shaking his head as he reapplies the cloth.

“Nurse me back to health?” you say with a smile. He smiles back.

“Don’t you worry love, I’ll take care of you.”

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